The other day a fellow student was telling me about a dream she’d had. She was heavily pregnant, despite not being pregnant the day before, but that’s dream logic for you. She visited the hospital for a check up, and coincidentally one of her friends was also due to give birth, yet she was experiencing problems with her pregnancy, so everyone was concerned for her well-being.
Upon being informed of the good health of the baby, the first girl was assured that she had plenty of time before the birth, so she left the hospital and went to buy a magazine. However, once she had left the shop, copy of Mother & Baby in hand, she suddenly went into labour in the street and gave birth within minutes to a screaming infant, presumably as morning commuters tutted at her for blocking a ‘red route’.
Now, I’m no psychologist but… No wait, I am supposed to be a psychologist in-training…. Okay, so in my (inexperienced) opinion, it’s quite clear what this dream symbolises, even though I’m certainly no expert on pregnancy, seeing as the closest that I’ve ever come to giving birth was the day after eating a particularly spicy chicken curry.
To me it seems likely that my fellow student is channelling her MSc-related fears into her night-time thoughts. She’s concerned about making the grades and worried about the prospects of her friends. You and me both.
Whilst I have yet to experience a nightmare in which I’m plummeting to the ground, seemingly doomed, before suddenly finding myself bouncing back up from the rather springy couch of a dreamlike Sigmund Freud, I have found myself waking in a cold sweat to thoughts of content analysis. Not a pleasant start to a day.
And as I’ve watched a slightly deranged train passenger yelling that he “… used to ROB PEOPLE” and was “RUTHLESS”, I couldn’t stop myself from thinking what were the antecedents for this behaviour and what treatments would benefit this troubled man?
I guess that it’s an inevitable consequence of studying a masters course. It’s so mentally taxing that it pervades our lives. It’s not easy to switch off completely as we try to unwind in our hectic social lives or part-time jobs.
It’s almost like we’re expected to, well… master our subject. Who’d a funk it? Whilst it’s too early to be congratulating anyone, I would like to offer my sincerest best wishes for the expected births in a few months time, when those of us that have lasted the course will see an end to nine months labour, and out will pop a fully formed (but hopefully not too slimy) dissertation, for us to proudly hold before ourselves. At this point it will feel that all the suffering has been worth it. It wasn’t so bad! What next?