Last night I had a dream that I was in a very down-at-heel place; an open concrete building like a car park with graffiti on the walls and rubbish everywhere. I was attacked by a gang of thugs. The leader of the pack, and the only one who spoke to me, was a very stereotypical street hoodlum: a black teenager with a hoodie and baseball cap. He slashed my arms, face and chest with a flick-knife, demanding something from me which I can’t recall; probably cash or my mobile phone. It was very vivid; I could see the wounds made very clearly and it hurt a lot. After I woke up I could still feel the pain and even checked the sites for scars.
It makes initial sense to categorize this dream as a nightmare, but was it? You see, I never gave my attackers what they wanted. I stood up to them and refused despite their violence. So maybe it was really a good dream, signifying personal empowerment and freedom from fear.