I know I have had some problems lately, but last night’s dream has really got me worried now. It was terrible.
The first of it that I can recall is being at home with my grandmother, father and brother. As usual my brother and dad were quarreling over some chore or another (turns out they quarreled in waking life today over cutting the grass). My grandmother was in ill health, and my dad was in the process of helping organize her clothing. Anyway, he enlisted my help, and as I have done so far in waking life, I agreed to help with the taking care of her affairs. So, I tried to help out. He had gotten out a ladder to hang up clothing on some high racks in a large closet (which I think might have been our kitchen in reverse or something). But he and my grandmother watched and kept getting mad at me, because I was doing it wrong or something. I dont’ even really know what I did wrong, but I just recall getting severely yelled at.
I remember arguing furiously with my dad and grandmother for a long time. I was yelling and screaming at the top of my lungs about god knows what. Then I remember retreating to my room and closing the door, most likely crying. I felt as if my dad, grandmother and brother had all left the house. I think at this point, I remember getting on Second Life. I was just to hang out with and talk to some people, but they didn’t understand me or something. Or they didn’t care. It was at this point that I noticed my mom was home. She was in the room next door, which she actually is in waking life now. I went to talk to her, and we ended up arguing. But the worse part came after I returned to my room. I started seeing flashing lights from an ambulance and police car outside my window. At first I thought the ambulance was for someone else, but it stopped outside of our house. I flipped out.
I watched some paramedics quickly jog up to our front door, and some that followed pulling up a stretcher. I then thought, maybe they had come to haul off my grandmother or something. I ran to my mom to ask her what was going on, and she told me that my dad had told her to call 911 and have me taken away to the hospital. I flew into a rage. I had no idea what was wrong with me or the rest of my family, but I just raged and raged at my mother, exclaiming that I was not the one who needed help. She claimed that everyone in the family thought that I was mentally unstable, and that I ought to be hospitalized and put back on medication.
I can’t recall a time in a dream where I had ever felt more betrayed. I somehow ended up convincing the paramedics that it was a false alarm and that their services would not be needed. My mom reacted as if I were passing up an opportunity that would be beneficial for me. She said it was my mistake.
I just felt really hurt by my family, and really confused for myself. I know that I have been less than emotionally sound as of late, and I have considered going back to a professional, but I didn’t like the notion of being forced or “outed” in that way. I certainly did not think hospitalization was necessary either. It was the most horrible feeling. I just don’t know what my subconscious is trying to say about me, my family or the way they think about me.
Most of the time my family doesn’t even communicate, and certainly not lovingly. We might all be home, but we are in our separate rooms and we don’t say much to one another. It is always very tense in our house, every one of us with the desire to be living alone, yet still feeling lonely. We imprison and shut each other away daily. Even the cat has experienced the effects of it. Our relationships are just dead. The whole house has withered. There isn’t one of us here who doesn’t have some deep-seated emotional issues. If you stop by on a weekend night, you might not pick up on this. But you can almost smell the depression and the isolation in our house if you are here around mid-day. It lingers in dim hallways and on permanent fixtures. It’s mind-numbingly quiet, and the lights are never on. You almost feel compelled to lock yourself in a room and crawl into bed at a snail’s pace. Virtually everything I do in this house is in the process of making my way back into bed.
Growing up, it was a rare occurrence that I would ever invite friends over. I was almost too ashamed to bring anyone home, fearing that trying to bring lively people into such a dismal environment would yield some unexpected results.
I hope that someday when this house is sold, it goes to a happy, vibrant young couple with giggly toddlers and active puppies.