Dreams, Dreams, Dreams
Had some interesting dreams this week!
I had a cathartic conversation with my half-brother Dan, to whom I told "I don't hate you, but I don't like you anymore either." This was, by extension, a mental processing of the fact that I no longer want any of my half-siblings in my life, even though I used to really look up to two of them (Dan and Charles) when I was a kiddo. But they never wanted me, and never did anything to reach out. I was mulling it over to myself when I woke up, and realized my subconscious was completely in the right. What am I supposed to do? That ship sailed a long time ago. Also notable in this dream is that it took place in a three-story mansion version of the final house where my parents lived in California. Despite being huge, the place was trashy and filthy, and I struggled to find a place where I was comfortable setting down my coat before talking with Dan. Oh, and that line above in quotation marks, I actually said, verbatim. His reply was the final line of the dream, and it dissolved into incoherence as I was waking up, but it was something to the effect of "You're not in command..." Pretty clear message: Most of my stressors involve me feeling powerless about something invasive, intrusive, or disruptive. I had given Dan quite a little speech, which I sadly don't recall. It was all coherent. And it fascinated me, after I woke up, to reflect on the fact that not only did my speech have no effect on him, but he didn't even register it. It was never in the cards that he might change his mind. He was only interested in changing mine, or, more precisely, in alerting me to the great inconvenience my existence was causing him.
In another dream on another day, I had an adventure with my friend Amanda. She'd gotten exquisitely fat, but called me for help because she was in a financial crisis, so I went out there, and joined her and her (dream construct) boyfriend as they tried to hydroplane a stolen car into a bay by night. Inevitably it caught on the water and sank, so we and a bunch of other people from a ferry fled into a partially abandoned subterranean museum to escape the police. The setting was extremely cool: lots of cavelike 'mites and 'tites blended together with cavernous spaces and cylindrical tunnels housing various museum wings. All underground! We gradually lost all the other people, and her boyfriend ditched us because he wanted to escape by climbing a mountain that Amanda wasn't fit enough for, so it was just me and her through the last few wings of the museum. The abandoned parts of the museum were still fully operational...just devoid of people! (Except a few police.) It was super weird and fun. At one point there was like the dream version of "the other side of an escalator," which was just a tiny little curving escalator that didn't go anywhere. Very liminal stuff! We actually made it out successfully into a curving path in a park or something under a sunny sky, and the dream came to a natural stopping point before I woke up. Always a pleasure.
There was also a dream involving me talking to someone from LRR (don't remember whom; maybe Paul) in a more satisfying, collaborative way than the sense of exclusion that they usually represent for me.
And a few other dreams of variable quality and pleasantness. I didn't write them down soon enough and thus don't remember the details.
Not bad, overall!
I had a cathartic conversation with my half-brother Dan, to whom I told "I don't hate you, but I don't like you anymore either." This was, by extension, a mental processing of the fact that I no longer want any of my half-siblings in my life, even though I used to really look up to two of them (Dan and Charles) when I was a kiddo. But they never wanted me, and never did anything to reach out. I was mulling it over to myself when I woke up, and realized my subconscious was completely in the right. What am I supposed to do? That ship sailed a long time ago. Also notable in this dream is that it took place in a three-story mansion version of the final house where my parents lived in California. Despite being huge, the place was trashy and filthy, and I struggled to find a place where I was comfortable setting down my coat before talking with Dan. Oh, and that line above in quotation marks, I actually said, verbatim. His reply was the final line of the dream, and it dissolved into incoherence as I was waking up, but it was something to the effect of "You're not in command..." Pretty clear message: Most of my stressors involve me feeling powerless about something invasive, intrusive, or disruptive. I had given Dan quite a little speech, which I sadly don't recall. It was all coherent. And it fascinated me, after I woke up, to reflect on the fact that not only did my speech have no effect on him, but he didn't even register it. It was never in the cards that he might change his mind. He was only interested in changing mine, or, more precisely, in alerting me to the great inconvenience my existence was causing him.
In another dream on another day, I had an adventure with my friend Amanda. She'd gotten exquisitely fat, but called me for help because she was in a financial crisis, so I went out there, and joined her and her (dream construct) boyfriend as they tried to hydroplane a stolen car into a bay by night. Inevitably it caught on the water and sank, so we and a bunch of other people from a ferry fled into a partially abandoned subterranean museum to escape the police. The setting was extremely cool: lots of cavelike 'mites and 'tites blended together with cavernous spaces and cylindrical tunnels housing various museum wings. All underground! We gradually lost all the other people, and her boyfriend ditched us because he wanted to escape by climbing a mountain that Amanda wasn't fit enough for, so it was just me and her through the last few wings of the museum. The abandoned parts of the museum were still fully operational...just devoid of people! (Except a few police.) It was super weird and fun. At one point there was like the dream version of "the other side of an escalator," which was just a tiny little curving escalator that didn't go anywhere. Very liminal stuff! We actually made it out successfully into a curving path in a park or something under a sunny sky, and the dream came to a natural stopping point before I woke up. Always a pleasure.
There was also a dream involving me talking to someone from LRR (don't remember whom; maybe Paul) in a more satisfying, collaborative way than the sense of exclusion that they usually represent for me.
And a few other dreams of variable quality and pleasantness. I didn't write them down soon enough and thus don't remember the details.
Not bad, overall!