I dream vividly. I always have. Usually, the interpretations of those dreams aren't difficult. One of the therapists I saw for LCSW supervison said I had the most concrete dreams he'd ever heard anyone tell about. I don't think he wanted to insult me, although that isn't exactly a testament to brillance, I think he just spoke without thinking about how it sounded. However, this morning a more complicated one came to me. At least it seemed that way, I'm going to put it out here because sometimes ones that seem complicated in my mind are in fact more simplistic than I think. I will put my thoughts about the portions of the dream in parenthesis. It began relatively benign and then moved into scary.
Against my better judgement, I went back to bed this morning after the children went to school. I dreamed, as I usually do. I faded into this dream talking with the doctors about my mother. Somehow she was back but in the hospital again with a heart attack. I asked her, "How long will you stay this time, Mom?" The question was in regard to how long she would live not her hospital stay but she doesn't answer. (this portion of the dream was probably triggered by a friend of mine's husband being in the hospital. He was not having heart trouble but has in the past. I'm not sure about the question and her not answering unless it has to do with Mom not answering so many questions about the estate that we are having to try to settle right now).
Most of my dreams have blurred edges and fade from one moment to the next which can be in a different location. In the next segment, I was on my cell phone going back to the hospital talking with Blood Assurance, telling them that my mom might need some blood. I wanted them to be fawning all over her because she had been so dedicated to giving blood in her life so felt frustrated that they were not. Finally, I shouted her name at the person on the phone, "Sandra Graves, O+, Sandra Graves." The person faded out as I reached the double steel doors that led to the patient area. I pressed the automatic open button. (this portion likely has to do with my fear that Mom is being forgotten. There's also the possiblity that having trouble getting the blood could stem back to blood being symbolic of life. )
This next part is where it gets weird but stranger things are to come. The doors swing open and both my sisters are sitting in plastic chairs looking at something, my nephew and his wife sit there too but aren't looking at whatever Cindy is holding. As I walk in I hear my oldest sister say, "We won't show this to Nancy." Rage fills me as I turn to walk into Mom's hospital room.
Before I go in, I spew at them, "I hate you. I hate you. You can never come over again." Then I turned and looked at my nephew and niece and said, "You can still come over." (I have no idea what this is about unless it is a fear of abandonment by my sisters so I will reject them before they can leave me. the most obvious theme is that my sisters are keeping something from me. But I have no idea what that would be or that they are protecting me from something, also don't know what that would be. When I woke up I felt pretty shaken by what happened next in the dream but also by those words. I adore my sisters, both of them. I can't imagine ever feeling that way about them. The nephew and niece thing is kind of funny since I think that comes from me inviting them to come swimming on facebook and my niece saying we'd get sick of them and me assuring her we would not. Although I'm not sure why they were there at all.)
Now comes the part that made me come awake with my heart pounding. I walk into Mom's room, Jeff's with me. Remember I have just yelled at my sisters so I throw myself across the bottom of Mom's bed hugging her legs and crying. Then I realize she is naked except for the sheet I am on so I get up and look at her. I realize then that she is in arm restraints. "Mom?" I say and she opens her eyes but they aren't her usual green eyes, they are black and very liquid like dark blood.
She spreads her arms wide crucifix-like and says, "I am Sandra."
I back away and say, "You aren't my mom." She laughs and tries to grab at me but the restraints keep her from reaching me. The cords cut into the soft part of her upper arm. She struggles against them. Her skin is very white next to the dark eyes.
"I'm Sandra," she rasps.
"It's a demon," I tell Jeff and then I wake. (I don't get this part at all or maybe I am just too close to it. Sometimes dreams are just runoff from the days events but I haven't been reading any demon stories. I wonder if I fear my grief is going to somehow become a type of false God to me. Jeff, my former therapist husband cleared it up. You always know when you have hit on the right dream interpretation because it usually makes the person cry.
He said, "I would wonder if you were having some kind of faith crisis."
I said,"But how does that make sense since if I'm believing in demons I have to be believing in God."
He said, "Well, taking this a bit further, how could such a good Christian woman be stricken with a demon like that."
It hit me at that moment. The cancer, the demon that takes so many of us. The tears came then so I had to admit, "That's it." It was a simplistic dream after all. I'm still struggling on some level with how God could have allowed Mom to die of cancer. Why she wasn't healed. Apparently, my conscious mind wasn't able to deal with the existential issue s my subconcious had to come knocking to remind me it was still there. Geez, sometimes, it would be nice to process things without having to have the images in my head first. Oh well, any thoughts, alternate explations?
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