Saturday, September 10, 2005


Moth, the transformations of night. Photo by Mary Stebbins Posted by Picasa

Lost and confused, Dreams from 9-10-05

Saturday, September 10, 2005; 07:44
Dreams:
My mother has disappeared. My father is alive and we have looked for her in vain. I am taking a shower in an old bathroom with a claw-foot tub with added curtains when my mother appears, staggering out from behind the shower curtains and tub in a narrow passageway between the tub and the wall. She has gotten lost and trapped in the passageway for a long time. She walks out in a thin wet nightgown looking disheveled and confused. I am worried about my mother. She seems very confused and not entirely herself.
Toward the mountains
I am trying and trying to reach the mountains but I am never getting there because of interruptions and problems. The mountains are distant and beautiful across a wide desert-like plain. I really want to be in the mountains.
Graham is taken by a man on a horse who says, “wait there,” out on a desert with distant mountains, at a crossroads of narrow horse trails with a wooden signpost. I am concerned not only about Graham’s safely and well-being, but also about how long I will have to wait here with nothing to eat or drink and no shelter etc. The man did not say when he’ll be back or what will happen then. There is a sense of threat and danger, but it is all very matter of fact and though I am worried, I do not seem to be as worried as the situation might call for—there is also a sense that everything might work out OK.
Problems in College
Forgotten Homework:
I suddenly discover or remember that I have homework. The homework consists of a handout with a dark blue background and white animal shapes. We have to color in the animals. I do it fairly quickly with fine-point colored markers, a zebra, a giraffe, a leopard etc. I study it, and am reasonably happy, but not entirely. I see things I could have done better if I had taken more time.
When I have finished and heading out, another student discovers or remembers the homework. I tell her that I have also just remembered and that I just did it really quickly. She says there isn’t enough time, I say I did it very fast, and though it isn’t perfect, it’s OK. I feel both concerned about the imperfections and sort of smug about how fast I did it.
I have apparently forgotten that I need not only lunch but also dinner, because I have an evening class or meeting and I don’t have time to home between classes. A female friend asking me for or about it, as if perhaps I had offered to share it and I have to apologize that I’d forgotten.
I hop in bed with a man who seems to be “Nick Alfonsetti,” and place his hand on my breast (over my clothes)—he gets all excited and worked up and I hop back out of bed to head to my next class or meeting (without undressing or continuing). This seems rather of matter of fact in the dream but I am grossed out when I wake up and remember it.
I lose my shoes, or they are stolen. I must travel between buildings and it is raining. I run down the sidewalk in the rain in my socks. The college is an urban college, reminiscent of MCA but with more buildings.
I am trying to find my way back into my next class building, but go too far and have to go back up. I am having trouble finding the door. There are many green signs about ESF on the wall of this lower building, and I notice it but it seems clear that I am no longer studying at ESF but looking for the door to a different college. All these events appear to take place in the same short break between classes.

Here are the most obvious concerns from these dreams:

I am worried about my mother and her health and well-being, and her/my lucidity and related issues of being human and losing parts of herself/myself. One basic question is, “Who am I?” and what makes me who I am and how much of myself I can lose and still be me. This is part of why I always note such things as her continuing sense of humor—as a sort of evidence that she is still in there. I am afraid for her and for myself, afraid of death (though she says she is not) and also of a death before death, a sort of disappearing piece by piece into dementia.
I worry about Graham and his safety and well-being.
I want to get to and be in the mountains, both literally and figuratively. I worry that now that I have chosen to be with Keith, this won’t happen.
I want to continue learning and take more classes. I worry about this happening under my current circumstances, and whether those circumstances will change any time soon.
I worry about being left unprotected and without my needs being met.
The piece about losing my shoes was probably stimulated by Keith’s remarks last night about not wanting Graham to be running around in his socks, but it harks back to the time the dykes in jail stole my shoes and that whole ordeal of my having to go to court in my stocking feet with the parking tickets I didn’t get (but Peter did). I think this is something I need to revisit at some time. Keith’s lack of concern about parking tickets and even speeding tickets makes me very nervous and upset. It violates my own personal fears about tickets stemming from my bad experiences and makes me scared. (This reminds me that I also want to write to Keith about the Niagara thing because I don’t think he understands yet or knows I am serious.) Fear, embarrassment, violation, betrayal, vulnerability. Yikes. Lots of issues and emotions in that event.
I am concerned about finding the right balance of time and effort in a creative piece (or homework). I am fearful of both insufficient time and too much time. Insufficient time results in a poor quality piece or product, and too much time results in never finishing the work. Unfortunately, I tend toward one or the other extreme and have a hard time finding that happy middle ground. This is embarrassing and causes defensiveness—“why haven’t you finished that novel yet, etc.” Of course, the lack of balance between rush to completion and perfectionism is not the only issue in completing my work—my “ADD” (distractedness) and all the competing issues and problems also contribute.
There is a recurring theme of “lostness” in these dreams. I feel a sort of lostness, a lost purpose in my life because I have been unable to write or do any serious creative work due to computer problems, moving etc. Being lost and confused and unable to reach my goals is an issue that causes me concern and worry. I also don’t want to lose myself in my new life or in dementia etc. I want to be able to “Move on” in my life and get where I am going without losing myself in the process. How can I continue to be “me” and feel like me and be Keith’s partner, Graham’s mother, Mom’s daughter etc? How can I be the me that requires the “mountains” when I have fibromyalgia, sleep apnea, Keith and Graham (and all their restrictions on travel due to work and school), lack of funds and all this moving ordeal? I think I need another trip to “the mountains” in the near future, somehow.