First dream out of hospital
I had a session with my wonderful therapist today and he alwys wants to interpret my dreams: Not in a silly way, but he has taught me how to associate what I dream with how I feel. He also says that every event, item or person represents some aspect of you yorself . He said these ones were so rich he made me type them out for him to read and study. He's the only person I've ever found who seems to always understand the way I think. He inspired me to type that penguin post community.livejournal.com/the_purg/
These are my recent dreams - maybe you can interpret them the same way he did:
Mum and dad were in the front of his green little car. Dad calmly driving slowly and steadily, but mum stressing about the snow/icy conditions.
I was sat in the back.
We got stuck in the snow outside a row of parked cars next to a battered old brown car with a distressed old lady inside. She shouted through the windows to dad that - she was stuck outside her own house because she’d lost her keys I was SO frustrated because I was in the back and couldn’t hear what she was saying. (Her voice was messed up, she could only whisper having just come out of hospital as in my (Real Life (IRL). ) Dad leaned out so he could hear her, mum wasn’t trying to hear. Dad took the time to explain to me what she had said and I SO wanted to help her because she seemed such a nice old lady, and so did dad.
So we all got out and helped her into her house – somehow? Dad and I helped her inside and straight upstairs. Mum followed reluctantly and want straight to sit down in the kitchen.
As the 3 of us went upstairs to bed because she needed to rest . Her house turned into my IRL house. We took her first to our front bedroom (Mums bedroom) – but the room was filled with penguins! All types – big/small/cuddly toys/antique ornaments/paintings etc. We couldn’t put her on that bed because there were too many penguins on it.
So dad and I took her to the back bedroom (where mum and dad used to sleep when he lived here)
She was wearing the same old red dressing gown as the old lady (IRL) had been wearing in the hospital bed next to me who I had tried to comfort and help by holding her hand when she was shouting but I couldn’t help and she held my hand with a such a grip that I couldn’t pull my hand away - I was stuck, trying to release myself from the grip of just one old lady’s hand and I really couldn’t – the grip was so tight. In the end she nurse had to come and set me free and calm her down. I hadn’t helped at all, only got a bruised hand)
Dad and I put her to bed sat with her because she was so scared and shaken up by the whole experience and I felt so sorry for her I needed to help in some way. I was thinking kindly of dad for staying but wondered why mum was still downstairs in the kitchen. In the bedroom, the phone rang. Dad answered because (IRL)I have a phone phobia and in my mind they always bring bad news.
It was the Police! The nice old lady was a murderer – she had accidentally knocked down her son in the road, hit-and-run’ . She’d killed him. I felt shocked and sad when I heard the news but not scared of her. It was an accident and she was such a nice lady I was just sorry for her. She did not deny her crime and got straight out of bed to dress. I was surprised that when she took off her night clothes she stood naked in front of us!!! Before putting her clothes on preparing to be arrested.
Dad changed into a policeman (all of sudden) helmet and uniform, too. –And he read her her ‘rights’ – arresting her. He left to complete some paperwork. I was left alone with her sat on the bed. She was so scared saying ‘I cant go to prison, I just can’t go to prison’ I felt so bad for her and said ‘I’ve done things like that in the past – Things I never thought I could do, but I did them. You can do anything if you try. They might not send you to prison anyway. You could do ‘community service’ and be doing something useful. I felt that this would be better for her.
She was still so frightened that I wanted to do SOMETHING to help. I asked if I could get her a sandwich or something. She said’ I’d like a cup of coffee, lots of. No sugar’. I went down to her kitchen (It was now my (IRL) Banstead kitchen. Mum was still sitting, looking very bored and gloomy. She was sitting right next to the kettle, so I asked her to make the coffee. She didn’t move but sat and stared at me for AGES. I wondered why she was sitting and staring. THEN I knew it was a dream because in IRL there was NO way she’d refuse to make me coffee.
This IS a dream – WOKE UP.
Next Night – 2nd night out of hospital
Mum and I were walking in the snow. She said ‘you really need a haircut’ (IRL – I do. I wanted my fringe cut. Mum wants me to get a proper bobbed/layered haircut – thinks it would make me look better and feel better about myself). Happily enough I agreed.
We were walking past a row of scruffy terraced houses and co-incidentally say a sign on one door saying ‘ Hairdresser – please knock and apply within’ - when she appeared at the door I felt so sorry for her – I knew she was a single mother, struggling and trying to make a bit of extra money working from home. Mum didn’t care about this aspect, she just wanted me to have a haircut. But I knew I needed one anyway, so we knocked and the hairdresser (a rather thin, sad looking blonde woman) let us in.
I had my haircut, then she roughly braided it into a plat. I was a bit suspicious. Was this to hide a bad job, but I wasn’t too worried. I had suspicions, though so I took the plat out to let it hang loose. She’d done next to nothing!! She hadn’t cut my fringe ALL (IRL what I wanted) and she’d just cut a few inches of the bottom of my hair (IRL – mum wants my hair short and styled). Mum (looking on) was fuming with rage. I wasn’t too bothered, but I was disappointed about my fringe) I thought she’s obviously a con-woman – not a proper hairdresser, but I still wanted to pay her and asked for the bill: £999.99. No Way – I told her I couldn’t and wouldn’t pay that much for a rubbish haircut. I was shocked and angry – suspecting she was a con-woman anyway, but Mum felt the same way. She was much angrier than I was. I still felt so sorry for her and her situation that I still wanted to give her something and asked if she could give a reduction.
Her ‘Legal Agent’ suddenly appeared (a rather plump, jolly lady with a pretty, short haircut. ) – to read the ‘Hairdressers legal code’
Conditions for reduction; - to £729.30
1. The customer of the hairdresser was born premature (IRL, I was)
2. The customer of the hairdresser was born as a result of a boxing match (I pictured (IRL) that tiny boxer beating that huge heavyweight)
3. The customer is a relative of a rabbit (I pictured in my mind (IRL a miserable-looking cat being dressed up in these new pet-outfits by some silly person. The owner had stuck a large pink hat over this poor cat’s head with large rabbit-ears sticking up) (IRL) – if you trace history back far enough all species are related to each other – But I thought later, I DO feel like a relative of our cats sometimes. I’m an only child and yet mum seems to give just as much outward affection and concern to them as she does to me.
Mum paid – SO SO angry. We all left the house. Agent and hairdresser drove off in a big black car. Mum and I sat on the bonnet of OUR car(lovely espensive red sport’s car) laughing about the stupidity of the rules. We both found it so funny. Then the hairdresser came back and I was surprised at how sorry she was. She said how much she was struggling and that it was late in the day and she was tired and not concentrating). I was sorry for mum, but mum wasn’t really listening. She even gave the money back. – WOKE UP.