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Creepy dream night
Aug. 4th, 2016 10:57 amI have recurring dreams which I really wish would go away. In them I'm back living with my mother, as a child or teenager, but with memories of later life. So I'm stuck in her house, in the room I had there, desperately trying to figure out why I'm not in my house, or what happened to my house, and why can't I think clearly?
When I was a child, I'd be given presents I really didn't like, such as dolls in little knitted outfits. They sat on my shelves staring outwards and I'd keep them tidy and get rid of the dust, because I was that sort of a kid. I couldn't get rid of them because that would hurt the feelings of Whoever. [I did later try the outfits on my guinea pigs and that was sort of fun].
I remember a stupid little dresser/desk sort of setup I had to have, with a circular mirror positioned on the wall just where I'd have to look at my own face when I was doing homework or trying to type on the manual typewriter I stole from M. Why didn't I get rid of that mirror? Why didn't I build a bonfire of the stupid dolls? M made me get rid of my china horses as a teen because she decided I was too old for them, and the books about horse breeds. That was okay, because anything I had chosen for myself couldn't matter.
These are the thoughts which the dreams wake. They seem mild but they give me the shivers and it's still taking me a while to shake the latest dream this morning.
I guess my headspace is not terrific.
When I was a child, I'd be given presents I really didn't like, such as dolls in little knitted outfits. They sat on my shelves staring outwards and I'd keep them tidy and get rid of the dust, because I was that sort of a kid. I couldn't get rid of them because that would hurt the feelings of Whoever. [I did later try the outfits on my guinea pigs and that was sort of fun].
I remember a stupid little dresser/desk sort of setup I had to have, with a circular mirror positioned on the wall just where I'd have to look at my own face when I was doing homework or trying to type on the manual typewriter I stole from M. Why didn't I get rid of that mirror? Why didn't I build a bonfire of the stupid dolls? M made me get rid of my china horses as a teen because she decided I was too old for them, and the books about horse breeds. That was okay, because anything I had chosen for myself couldn't matter.
These are the thoughts which the dreams wake. They seem mild but they give me the shivers and it's still taking me a while to shake the latest dream this morning.
I guess my headspace is not terrific.