A good friend of mine has been critical of my not writing more here. So, I guess I'll try harder. I suppose when it comes down to it I'm afraid of really putting down my deep dark thoughts. Afraid of being judged and of people playing mindgames with me over the tidbits I leave here. Bare with me and I'll try to get past this. It's also hard to face myself and what I'm thinking. I think I'll open with a doozy. I had a nightmare last night.
My stepfather was dying and for some reason my mother thought I could do something about it. She made me feel guilty because I refused to do whatever it was that I was supposed to do to save his heart. Also, it seemed that they were going to be moving him to another location. They were living in a very tall building on the top floor. She was busy with preparations and kept insisting that I go into their bedroom to talk with my father. Reluctantly and with great trepidation I entered the bedroom. The walls were painted red and it had a dim light and there he was propped up by pillows in this bed with a very fluffy comforter. I don't remember even speaking with him but his eyes pleaded with me and I knew what they wanted me to do. Though by not actually saying it, my mother could get away with the reprecussions of what she asked. I was very sad that he was dying but I just couldn't do what they wanted me to do. I went to the window and it was very bright outside. Being on the top floor, I could see several gargoyles on the roof. For some reason my parents began to seem otherwordly. I'm not sure now what this means. Maybe aliens or something like beings with mystical capabilities. It seems silly now but I was quite convinced in the dream. I began to imagine doing what they all wanted me to do and I just knew I couldn't do it even if it would save his life. All of a sudden, one of the gargoyles shook and the granite fell away in chunks revealing what I can only describe as an angel. This beautiful sparkling being of goodness with wings that just seemed to absorb all light and reflect it back into my soul and left me feeling clean and wonderful. Though no words were spoken, I understood that she was set to guard and watch my father along with another of these angels. She didn't seem angry or upset that I wouldn't do what my parents wanted me to do. She turned around to find her companion and was worried because he/she? was missing. There was the general understanding, though I don't know how I knew, that the other one had abandoned its post because there was some doubt regarding my father. The first angel looked hard at my father in his beautiful bedroom then at me and flew away. I knew she wasn't coming back and she knew there was a good reason that the other one had left. My mother came in and saw that the angels had gone and became more upset. She said it was time to move him and the next thing I know we are in this white seamless room without doors or windows. My father was laying on the floor, naked and face down. Many men appeared and began cutting into him. I watched them cut into his back in a long vertical slice down his back. I saw them peel back the layers of skin and fat. I remember thinking how he had so much fat there. That yellow sickly kind I remember from disecting frogs in biology. I must have said something aloud because my mother said something like, "Its all apart of the transformation since you won't help him." That's pretty much the last thing I remember about the dream other than the certainty that my father would not survive. I think I was stoic to this knowledge.
So now you know the level of my dementia and how it trickles into my dreams. I have no idea what it means. Whether its good or bad or what. Maybe it has something to do with my upcoming 30th birthday and guilt about not talking to my parents for 7 years. I could go crazy trying to analyze this.... oops too late.
My stepfather was dying and for some reason my mother thought I could do something about it. She made me feel guilty because I refused to do whatever it was that I was supposed to do to save his heart. Also, it seemed that they were going to be moving him to another location. They were living in a very tall building on the top floor. She was busy with preparations and kept insisting that I go into their bedroom to talk with my father. Reluctantly and with great trepidation I entered the bedroom. The walls were painted red and it had a dim light and there he was propped up by pillows in this bed with a very fluffy comforter. I don't remember even speaking with him but his eyes pleaded with me and I knew what they wanted me to do. Though by not actually saying it, my mother could get away with the reprecussions of what she asked. I was very sad that he was dying but I just couldn't do what they wanted me to do. I went to the window and it was very bright outside. Being on the top floor, I could see several gargoyles on the roof. For some reason my parents began to seem otherwordly. I'm not sure now what this means. Maybe aliens or something like beings with mystical capabilities. It seems silly now but I was quite convinced in the dream. I began to imagine doing what they all wanted me to do and I just knew I couldn't do it even if it would save his life. All of a sudden, one of the gargoyles shook and the granite fell away in chunks revealing what I can only describe as an angel. This beautiful sparkling being of goodness with wings that just seemed to absorb all light and reflect it back into my soul and left me feeling clean and wonderful. Though no words were spoken, I understood that she was set to guard and watch my father along with another of these angels. She didn't seem angry or upset that I wouldn't do what my parents wanted me to do. She turned around to find her companion and was worried because he/she? was missing. There was the general understanding, though I don't know how I knew, that the other one had abandoned its post because there was some doubt regarding my father. The first angel looked hard at my father in his beautiful bedroom then at me and flew away. I knew she wasn't coming back and she knew there was a good reason that the other one had left. My mother came in and saw that the angels had gone and became more upset. She said it was time to move him and the next thing I know we are in this white seamless room without doors or windows. My father was laying on the floor, naked and face down. Many men appeared and began cutting into him. I watched them cut into his back in a long vertical slice down his back. I saw them peel back the layers of skin and fat. I remember thinking how he had so much fat there. That yellow sickly kind I remember from disecting frogs in biology. I must have said something aloud because my mother said something like, "Its all apart of the transformation since you won't help him." That's pretty much the last thing I remember about the dream other than the certainty that my father would not survive. I think I was stoic to this knowledge.
So now you know the level of my dementia and how it trickles into my dreams. I have no idea what it means. Whether its good or bad or what. Maybe it has something to do with my upcoming 30th birthday and guilt about not talking to my parents for 7 years. I could go crazy trying to analyze this.... oops too late.
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