I know being around Jorge's family is triggering my family issues. Hence the following dream.
It was one of those dreams that won't let go of you, even when you stir awake to avoid it. I'd go back to sleep and it'd pick me up where it had left off. It was persistant, to say the least.
I dreamed that my parents woo'd me and my brothers and sister back to the fold with a new double-wide mobile home. Odd in itself. All us kids were all grown up. It was my father's effort to bring the family back together. (in real life, both my brothers are dead). I was the focus of attention, since I was the one blamed for tearing us apart by telling the big, bad secret of childhood sexual abuse.
The wonder of this mobile home was never-ending. All our childhood wants were fulfilled, bedrooms of our own, a trampoline for each of us, toys galore. But we were all grown-up. It was obvious to us kids that he was "buying us off".
As I write this, I'm trying VERY hard to hang on to the memory of the dream. I have an amazing ability to forget this unpleasantness, and I can feel it ebbing away even as I'm typing this.
Since I have spent most of my adult life without parents, and realizing that with the MS that I'm going to be a bit more dependent on other people, I, much to my awake shame... in this dream was soaking up being bought off by my father. He owed me, I figure. And I was hoping he'd changed.
But I was always on edge, in the dream, much like I was in real life, during my teen years. I spent my teenage years "on guard" in my own home. Listening for his footsteps. I became "hypervigilant" always watching out. It took alot of energy, energy that should have been spent growing up, doing normal teenage things... like maturing, for instance.
In the dream, he called for a group hug. Instantly I kept an eye out for my sister, making sure he didn't try any of his nasty hugging, touching, comments. In real life, he'd done the same thing after my brother's funeral. He spoke words, crying, hoping we'd hang together tight. When he hugged me, he nibbled on my ear.
In the dream, I was torn between wanting a real family, believing in the pretty picture they were painting for us kids, but knowing he still gave me a creeped out feeling. Knowing the kids wanted it too, but they were following my lead. Plus the fact that my brothers were alive! I WANTED this family to work. But sure enough, when he hugged me, he touched me wrong, and I looked over at my mom, hoping she hadn't seen him.
I'd been waking up on and off several times, on guard, at age 47, feeling dirty and angry. When I fell back asleep, the dream resumed with even more fabulous enticements to live in the brand new double-wide mobile home. The enticements had changed into more grown-up themes, wrapped up and labeled in decorated boxes. Money, new appliances, even a house for each of us. In the way of dreams, of course it made perfert sense that'd we'd live in this fabulous mobile home with our parents, AND our own houses.
There were also presents, wrapped in beautiful paper, labeled "Support". Another labeled "Unconditional Love". Another labeled "Babysitting". Etc. All the things that would have been nice while I was raising my son, going to doctor visits, losing Jacob, getting diagnosed with MS. I moved from room to room, watching my brothers and sisters fall for the happy dream.
All nite long, I kept dreaming and waking up, wanting to throw up, wanting to get away from him.
Just damn. Still.
I dreamed that my parents woo'd me and my brothers and sister back to the fold with a new double-wide mobile home. Odd in itself. All us kids were all grown up. It was my father's effort to bring the family back together. (in real life, both my brothers are dead). I was the focus of attention, since I was the one blamed for tearing us apart by telling the big, bad secret of childhood sexual abuse.
The wonder of this mobile home was never-ending. All our childhood wants were fulfilled, bedrooms of our own, a trampoline for each of us, toys galore. But we were all grown-up. It was obvious to us kids that he was "buying us off".
As I write this, I'm trying VERY hard to hang on to the memory of the dream. I have an amazing ability to forget this unpleasantness, and I can feel it ebbing away even as I'm typing this.
Since I have spent most of my adult life without parents, and realizing that with the MS that I'm going to be a bit more dependent on other people, I, much to my awake shame... in this dream was soaking up being bought off by my father. He owed me, I figure. And I was hoping he'd changed.
But I was always on edge, in the dream, much like I was in real life, during my teen years. I spent my teenage years "on guard" in my own home. Listening for his footsteps. I became "hypervigilant" always watching out. It took alot of energy, energy that should have been spent growing up, doing normal teenage things... like maturing, for instance.
In the dream, he called for a group hug. Instantly I kept an eye out for my sister, making sure he didn't try any of his nasty hugging, touching, comments. In real life, he'd done the same thing after my brother's funeral. He spoke words, crying, hoping we'd hang together tight. When he hugged me, he nibbled on my ear.
In the dream, I was torn between wanting a real family, believing in the pretty picture they were painting for us kids, but knowing he still gave me a creeped out feeling. Knowing the kids wanted it too, but they were following my lead. Plus the fact that my brothers were alive! I WANTED this family to work. But sure enough, when he hugged me, he touched me wrong, and I looked over at my mom, hoping she hadn't seen him.
I'd been waking up on and off several times, on guard, at age 47, feeling dirty and angry. When I fell back asleep, the dream resumed with even more fabulous enticements to live in the brand new double-wide mobile home. The enticements had changed into more grown-up themes, wrapped up and labeled in decorated boxes. Money, new appliances, even a house for each of us. In the way of dreams, of course it made perfert sense that'd we'd live in this fabulous mobile home with our parents, AND our own houses.
There were also presents, wrapped in beautiful paper, labeled "Support". Another labeled "Unconditional Love". Another labeled "Babysitting". Etc. All the things that would have been nice while I was raising my son, going to doctor visits, losing Jacob, getting diagnosed with MS. I moved from room to room, watching my brothers and sisters fall for the happy dream.
All nite long, I kept dreaming and waking up, wanting to throw up, wanting to get away from him.
Just damn. Still.
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Jacob Poems
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