So last night, I had a nightmare...
...that my dead died in a traffic accident, while visiting the United States with his wife and my brother, Anton.
But that wasn't even the worst part. The worst part was that the dream kept going. I had to notify everyone about what happen. And deal with grief-striken Aunt Natasha (that's what I've always called my dad's wife) and my brother, even as I tried to deal with the sheer shock of loss.
At one point in my dream, Vlad and Anton met, and I remembered thinking how utterly wrong it was that they had to meet like this, my two brothers who are not related to each other at all, and who have really no connection to each other except through their relation to me.
In my dream, my mom was more upset then she would probably have been in real life. And she was not all that sympathetic to what I was going through. As a rule, I try not to analyses the psychological underpinnings of my dreams (because my dreams can occasionally go on very weird tangents), but stuff like this makes me wonder.
And I remember that, at one point, the weight of all the relatives that died hit me - Petya, Grandma Valya, Grandma Kima, and now this. And I thought that it would only get worst from there.
The dream ended... kind of oddly. We were all gathered in my mom's husband's apartment (which isn't in Chicago, or even in United States, but hey - dream logic). And then annanov walked in and said that she got word from the hospital. My dad wasn't dead. He was gravely injured, but he was going to make it.
And, even as a wave of relief washed over me, I saw everybody in the room arguing and glaring at me.
And that's when I woke up.
Writing this now, almost five hours later, I am pretty calm. But when I woke up, there was this... Not exactly a lump in my throat. More like a pit of cold terror in my stomach, just like what I felt when I first got word that Grandma Kima died.
It didn't go away for almost half an hour.
But that wasn't even the worst part. The worst part was that the dream kept going. I had to notify everyone about what happen. And deal with grief-striken Aunt Natasha (that's what I've always called my dad's wife) and my brother, even as I tried to deal with the sheer shock of loss.
At one point in my dream, Vlad and Anton met, and I remembered thinking how utterly wrong it was that they had to meet like this, my two brothers who are not related to each other at all, and who have really no connection to each other except through their relation to me.
In my dream, my mom was more upset then she would probably have been in real life. And she was not all that sympathetic to what I was going through. As a rule, I try not to analyses the psychological underpinnings of my dreams (because my dreams can occasionally go on very weird tangents), but stuff like this makes me wonder.
And I remember that, at one point, the weight of all the relatives that died hit me - Petya, Grandma Valya, Grandma Kima, and now this. And I thought that it would only get worst from there.
The dream ended... kind of oddly. We were all gathered in my mom's husband's apartment (which isn't in Chicago, or even in United States, but hey - dream logic). And then annanov walked in and said that she got word from the hospital. My dad wasn't dead. He was gravely injured, but he was going to make it.
And, even as a wave of relief washed over me, I saw everybody in the room arguing and glaring at me.
And that's when I woke up.
Writing this now, almost five hours later, I am pretty calm. But when I woke up, there was this... Not exactly a lump in my throat. More like a pit of cold terror in my stomach, just like what I felt when I first got word that Grandma Kima died.
It didn't go away for almost half an hour.