The People Behind My Eyes

The dream started off with me walking single file with a group of people my age (36) down the dark auditorium of my second grade school. We passed two other single file lines, one of which my brother was in. In the dream he was 15 years old. I didn’t even know him then but in the dream he was 15. He caught sight of me and called me by my birth name. I corrected him which caused an argument. He got in my face and demanded to know why it was so important to change my name. I told him he didn’t require an answer, compliance would do. He didn’t like my answer but I didn’t like how he got up in my face angry and demanding. Some kid beside him asked why he was making such a big deal out of it. That’s when my brother held up a sign written like a child which mocked me. As my line moved out of the dark auditorium he sing song-like called out my birth name.

In the second dream I was also an adult as was my sister. In this dream I had to go to the hospital for some reason. I ended up in the waiting room with a doctor that had really radical mood changes, even his body size and hair colour changed with his moods. At one point he was about the size of a Ken doll only with black hair. A colleague of his picked him up, shook him and told him to get his act together. He was immediately the size of a human man and again with curly blond hair. Through out the dream he kept changing, right down to the end where he told me it was my fault, I was causing him to lose focus. He said I would cause him to lose his career if I didn’t allow him to focus. At one point in my interaction with him he took a female patient, carried her over to me and spread her legs in my face. His colleague rushed over once again to tell him to stop.

After that experience I refused to be treated by him and told his colleague I wanted to see another doctor. I needed surgery but I wasn’t going under the knife with that guy. He said no one else was available to help but that they could give me shots in my knees. I told them I’m a torture survivor having had experiences with needles and that I’d need some sort of sedation. He said it would be fine. The other doctor flipped out and refused the adivan. I walked out of the room just in time to see my mother walking down the hall. She said my sister had been rushed in and needed attention. In the room with my sister was odd. It wasn’t a regular 2 bed room it was a dark linoleum room with a round table where 4 people stood playing cards by a window with the curtains drawn. My mother and I stood on the opposite side of the room. I never saw her face the entire dream. As she and I chatted a doctor came in to take my sister to shave her head. When she came back she was upset because they shaved off her bangs. The mother tried to tell her it was okay that they’d grow back. She was also upset because the people at the table laughed at how only the top of her hair had been shaved and they left just a few strands of her bangs. She turned and said, “They’re making fun of me.” The mother told her she was okay and to let it go. She turned to play cards again. The doctor came in, put her on a gurney and began wheeling her to surgery.

As the mother and I walked down the hall to leave the hospital and leave the sister alone for brain surgery she told me exactly what was wrong with her. She said there had been some bleeding in the brain and the doctor’s needed to stop it. I was immediately grieved over this and started crying, holding my head, “No, no. Why didn’t you tell me that before.” I don’t recall her reply. She and I left the hospital and crossed the campus to go wherever we were going. As we walked a huge flock of ducks flew over us and rained down duck droppings on our head. There were hundreds of mallards flying over head plopping on us. I had sufficient cover for my face but the mother did not. As we ran I noticed all the parked cars were being made white and gray. I thought it was funny that we’d be attacked by ducks. She found no humor in it. After the duck attack she seemed to turn into an older white guy on a John Deer riding lawn mower. I helped wash the mower of all the duck poo. The dream ended there.

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Dream Therapy: Needs Not Met
Thursday, February 28, 2008, 10:38 am