The People Behind My Eyes

Significant pieces in the dream:
The age of the brother, being mocked by him, having him singsong my birth name, the grade school we were in, the white guy gardener she turned into, the sister’s possible death on the surgery table.
Of interest:
The flock of mallard ducks raining down poo on our heads.

Commentary:
I like the flock of ducks thing. As a child my room was always decorated with mallards. Of course it’s known they called me Little Duck all my life or just Duckie (with an ie not a y). So it was like a whole flock of me flying over head saying this whole situation was bullshit. Some of it I brought on myself but others I didn’t but it was all bullshit. The mother delaying medical attention for the sister is exactly what happened when she fell and cracked her head on the cement around age 30. She kept telling her not to go to the hospital. When she finally did it was because the pain in her head was so horrible she was in tears. It took weeks before she went to the hospital with the mother’s approval.

In high school the sister fell off her bike while she and I were riding. She broke her wrist. I ran to the nearest house to have them call 911. When they got there she and I panicked and told them not to take us to the hospital but to call the mother. They did. The woman showed up about an hour later. She had taken a shower, got herself dressed and drove to the scene. She told the ambulance people she’d drive my sister to the hospital. First she drove us home but on the way berated us for putting her in that situation. The sister was crying because it seemed like the mother hit every pot hole possible. They left me at home while they went to the hospital. I went to bed. The next morning she was patched up. The delay of medical care was a common theme with the mother. We had good insurance through GM, no delay was necessary.

The man she turned into isn’t out of place because he’s the gardener from the second grade where we use to live. She use to ask me if he ever molested me. She asked me that all the time. He never touched me but she sure kept asking. No, he never did, it was her which may be why she turned into the gardener. It’s interesting that I helped clean off the duck poo from the John Deer. Almost as if there was guilt for calling “bullshit” on the situation and I needed to help clean up the mess I’d made by seeing things as they were and bringing that insight forward.

It appears that since I’ve been talking more about my sister in therapy that dreams of her demise might be a regular occurrence. Lord help me if they are.

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