A few interesting things happened yesterday
Three to be exact, but I procrastinated writing them down, telling myself they weren't that important, and ended up forgetting one. But I still remember the other two, and I've come to the conclusion that they are worth writing down... errr typing up.
Yesterday morning while I was still sleeping, I had a dream that I went to a summer camp that was all about "individuality." I feel inclined to say that the camp, although not a performing arts camp, had a theatre-esque air. I don't recall the dream as sharply as yesterday, so... I could be totally wrong about that detail. Anyway the important part is that what the camp advertised as its central goal was encouraging individuality. ...But there was something wrong about the camp. It felt like one of the summer camps R.L. Stine wrote about in the Goosebumps series. I can't recall now if when I awoke yesterday I had actually figured out what was wrong with it or not (Yes, I totally should have written about this yesterday. Ever notice how the rate at which you forget dreams seems to be based on an exponential function?), but it ended (my dream, which coincided with the end of the summer session) with all of us (the campers) lying on beach towels around the camp lake, which was more like a creepy swamp, in various states of consciousness; most people were pretty dazed and some totally comatose. And the parents came and dragged (quite literally for many since the majority of the campers could barely walk) off their sons and daughters to their station wagons -- this detail I remember very well; these were very All-American early-90s families. I vaguely remember thinking that the camp's secret was that they drained the campers of their individuality and youth, but that's too obvious. I'm certain that even if that was part of what was wrong with the camp, there was still something larger, more sinister and more complex wrong with it. When I woke up, I didn't wake up terrified as if from a nightmare, but just thoroughly unsettled a little bit creeped out (but only a little). There was just something that compelled me to think that this dream was important, that it meant something. And the thing is that right as I was going to bed the night before, I thought half-annoyed/half-amused, "Oh great, I'm probably going to have a nightmare about this now." But I can't remember what "THIS" was!
The second thing: At the end of the session with my therapist yesterday evening, I showed her the friendship bracelet/choker/bookmark/thing I had mentioned I was working on the week before (Yes, this is the same one I mentioned a couple posts ago.) because she had asked me to bring it in. I was sitting in the chair diagonally from her's, the one furthest from her; I intentionally sit in this chair for this reason every week. I held up the bracelet for her to see, and she got up, walked across the room (not that it's a large room or anything) and sat down in the chair right next to mine [to get a better look at the bracelet]. And -- I didn't show this outwardly -- I almost jumped out of my chair, exclaiming "WOAH! TOO CLOSE!" I didn't say or do anything that even slightly suggested that I felt uncomfortable, but it really felt like she was much too close. I like her. But it felt like a violation of the You In Your Chair, Me In The Chair Farthest From You way that each and every one of our sessions has been conducted so far. I even surprised myself with how much I disliked her proximity. Yes, I should have just told her; she is my therapist after all, but... I was MUCH too stunned to do anything except just show her the bracelet and a few others I'd made and get out of there as fast as possible.
Yesterday morning while I was still sleeping, I had a dream that I went to a summer camp that was all about "individuality." I feel inclined to say that the camp, although not a performing arts camp, had a theatre-esque air. I don't recall the dream as sharply as yesterday, so... I could be totally wrong about that detail. Anyway the important part is that what the camp advertised as its central goal was encouraging individuality. ...But there was something wrong about the camp. It felt like one of the summer camps R.L. Stine wrote about in the Goosebumps series. I can't recall now if when I awoke yesterday I had actually figured out what was wrong with it or not (Yes, I totally should have written about this yesterday. Ever notice how the rate at which you forget dreams seems to be based on an exponential function?), but it ended (my dream, which coincided with the end of the summer session) with all of us (the campers) lying on beach towels around the camp lake, which was more like a creepy swamp, in various states of consciousness; most people were pretty dazed and some totally comatose. And the parents came and dragged (quite literally for many since the majority of the campers could barely walk) off their sons and daughters to their station wagons -- this detail I remember very well; these were very All-American early-90s families. I vaguely remember thinking that the camp's secret was that they drained the campers of their individuality and youth, but that's too obvious. I'm certain that even if that was part of what was wrong with the camp, there was still something larger, more sinister and more complex wrong with it. When I woke up, I didn't wake up terrified as if from a nightmare, but just thoroughly unsettled a little bit creeped out (but only a little). There was just something that compelled me to think that this dream was important, that it meant something. And the thing is that right as I was going to bed the night before, I thought half-annoyed/half-amused, "Oh great, I'm probably going to have a nightmare about this now." But I can't remember what "THIS" was!
The second thing: At the end of the session with my therapist yesterday evening, I showed her the friendship bracelet/choker/bookmark/thing I had mentioned I was working on the week before (Yes, this is the same one I mentioned a couple posts ago.) because she had asked me to bring it in. I was sitting in the chair diagonally from her's, the one furthest from her; I intentionally sit in this chair for this reason every week. I held up the bracelet for her to see, and she got up, walked across the room (not that it's a large room or anything) and sat down in the chair right next to mine [to get a better look at the bracelet]. And -- I didn't show this outwardly -- I almost jumped out of my chair, exclaiming "WOAH! TOO CLOSE!" I didn't say or do anything that even slightly suggested that I felt uncomfortable, but it really felt like she was much too close. I like her. But it felt like a violation of the You In Your Chair, Me In The Chair Farthest From You way that each and every one of our sessions has been conducted so far. I even surprised myself with how much I disliked her proximity. Yes, I should have just told her; she is my therapist after all, but... I was MUCH too stunned to do anything except just show her the bracelet and a few others I'd made and get out of there as fast as possible.