A dream about barbed wire is an omen of entrapped feelings in your life. You may be unable to express yourself or communicate properly in everyday situations. lf you see barbed wire in your dream and it is oppressive or harmful, it means that it is time to let go of whatever makes you feel trapped in your waking life.
The dream was scattered, but the image of my dog Ruby running out of the corner of a yard through a black hole, that did not exist moments before, and then reappearing moments later with three dogs on the other side, the three of them facing barbed wire and getting tangled and barbed in it was painful to witness. Ruby eluded the barrier, as she does most things in life. She found her way.
The dream began and end ended in senselessness. I awoke from it to my dog, Cocoa, telling me she needed to go out. It was about 1 a.m. and I unsuccessfully tried to fall back to sleep.
The image of barbed wire stuck with me. I thought about it on my morning walk with the dogs. As soon as I sat down on the train, I looked up its definition. It didn’t surprise me, I do feel trapped, by the grief of a divorce, by the home that we once shared, by the responsibilities of being a mother, a bread winner, etc.
I think December makes me acutely aware of that from which I feel trapped. Its place in the evolution of the calendar year nudges us to look back and forward. Both directions bear weight.
There’s a yin and yang to December, more than it’s sibling months. Because it’s at the end, there’s an expectation of completion. Other words that come to mind include release, achieve, commence, exit. If we exit and we end, do we leave something behind?
I want to let the grief go. I want to live without anger. I want to live without feeling defeated. But two years after a failed intervention that immediately prompted his exit, I have yet to fully accept what I’ve gained. I’m stuck on what was lost. And that’s the barbed wire. It’s pinching me, barbing me, cutting me, preventing me from moving on. It’s only wire but it feels like a solid wall.
On this Thursday morning, sleep deprived and dream sick, I’m scared that I’ll become content being stuck. That January, with it’s promise of newness, will never come. That I’m one of the three dogs in the dream, not Ruby, who always finds a way out.