Kane Kaiman is a graduate of Cedarburg High School. There, he scored a 5 on his AP Psychology test, giving him the authority to interpret the dreams of all humans and some of the earth’s more intelligent mammals. He has founded numerous charitable organizations, including the Night Terror Relief Fund and Dreams For Insomniacs.
This week’s dream:
“I keep having dreams about centipedes. Normally, I’m in my house and the centipedes will come out from under the couch, but they’re never realistic looking. A lot of times they’re unbelievably long, like earthworm length. Twice that I can remember, something came out from under the couch that was half centipede, half rodent. This thing wasn’t a soft, house centipede that I normally dream of, it was like the ones you see outside with segments and armor. It had a hard outer shell, but underneath it was furry. It had typical centipede legs, but a muskrat face with red eyes and buck teeth. It was huge—around a foot long. I remember squashing it with my hand, and it had orange blood.”
—Stephen Barlow, freshman
One hundred percent accurate interpretation:
The only good centipede is a dead centipede. Put that on my gravestone; I hate those guys.
Nightmares like these are completely understandable. Centipedes are freaky. They can scurry up to 1.3 feet per second, so good luck finding a napkin to crush them with before they make it to the AC vent. To make matters worse, they can shed limbs to escape from predators. So, on that rare occasion when you actually have a napkin ready, make sure to aim center mass.
Around 20 percent of my clients come to me with dreams about these creepy crawlies.
One patient dreamed the centipedes in his house were conspiring against him, planning a coordinated attack from their headquarters within the walls. He told me it was just a matter of time before they swarmed him in his sleep and laid eggs in his brain!
There’s no doubt in my mind he would’ve ended up in a straitjacket without my help. And that would’ve been the worst-case scenario—you can’t fend off an army of imaginary centipedes without the use of your hands.
In his case, exposure treatment was the only viable option. I took him to the local gymnastics academy for what he thought was going to be “some physical therapy,” and when we arrived, I abruptly pushed him into a foam pit filled with hundreds of thousands of live centipedes. He was cured, and I’m happy to report his initial thrashing cost many centipedes their lives.
Anyway, I don’t think you have it as bad as that guy.
Here’s what’s happening: While you sleep, your subconscious is trying to help you cope with your fears by subjecting you to the most horrific images it can generate—impossibly long centipedes and rodent/arthropod hybrids. It’s your own, self-induced exposure therapy.
Unfortunately, I doubt it’s alleviating your fears. What you need is the real thing.
I’ve compiled a few treatment options I think would be effective in your case:
— Eat a centipede.
Scoop one up off the floor and bite right into it. Not only is this the ultimate way to face your fears, but it comes with the added bonus of sending a message to the other centipedes in the house.
— Put your hand in a bag full of centipedes.
Focus on the sensation of hundreds of centipedes wriggling between your fingers. Then try to stand still as they emerge from the bag and crawl up your arm.
— Dress up as a centipede.
Be the centipede. Crawl around on the floor for a little while. Then, let go of your fears when you shed the costume.
— Make a centipede your pet.
Watch the centipede hatch from its egg, give it a name (Crazy Legs?) and nurture it through all six larval stages. How can you fear a creature you’ve learned to love?
Follow through on these strategies and you should be able to overcome your fears and avoid recurring nightmares.
These options will work with most house pests—but not silver fish. Horrifying creatures with five separate antennae require a much more extreme regimen of exposure therapy.
*Special thanks to Katie Roebken of the Hillsdale Gymnastics Academy. We never did round up all those centipedes, did we?
Do you have a dream you want Kane to interpret for you or someone you know? Email Kane at kaiman@wisc.edu for his absolutely 100 percent factually accurate advice.
