On Friday morning, I woke up at 6 am with a nightmare where Terri and I were teammates working on a gigantic spaceship. One end of the ship was traveling at lightspeed, the other end was at a sublight speed.
Terri decided that our duties meant we would need to visit the high-speed end of the ship--the trip there and back would take us about 24 hours.
But when we returned, 10 years would have passed.
At first I was all, OK, cool, it will be like time traveling into the future--we will stay young while everyone else ages.
Then, the idea settled into me, and I began to object--in 10 years, so much of what I love will be gone--Nike, Coal, Flint, Hunter, the cats--Jasper and Cairo.... and my dad, my mom? Who else? And I was not ready. I hadn't signed up for this! It would be as if in one 24 hour period, I would lose all those.
And I woke up crying. And weirded out at how my sleep self understood the theory of relativity....
Your dream actually makes a fair bit of sense in context---you go to work every day and at first it seems OK, but really, this part of you that you love is gutted, wounded and bleeding, and shoved in a back room, waiting and hurting while you do everything but save her--because you have been told you can't help her right now....
It really makes too much sense.
I hope that you find Charleston helps tend some of these wounds.
i'm glad you quit that job, and I am glad that Chris is a rockstar, and most of all i'm glad it was just a dream. EEP. Vivid dreams serve a function, though. That dream was telling you about what is really important to you, and about what you really know about your dickbag ex-boss.
Your job was keeping you (hah! I wrote your job is keeping ME from …) from the things that are really important to you. You felt powerless to do anything to change it. Every avenue of escape had been cut off, and the one you felt desperate enough to take (just fucking walking out and leaving it all behind) leaves you with no means of support and terror at the therat of full-on disaster.
Congratulations. You just had the American Dream, circa 2011.
The good news is, it's probably just an anxiety dream. It's okay to be worried. Just don't let it cloud your waking judgment. But then you already knew that.
Comments 7
Terri decided that our duties meant we would need to visit the high-speed end of the ship--the trip there and back would take us about 24 hours.
But when we returned, 10 years would have passed.
At first I was all, OK, cool, it will be like time traveling into the future--we will stay young while everyone else ages.
Then, the idea settled into me, and I began to object--in 10 years, so much of what I love will be gone--Nike, Coal, Flint, Hunter, the cats--Jasper and Cairo.... and my dad, my mom? Who else? And I was not ready. I hadn't signed up for this! It would be as if in one 24 hour period, I would lose all those.
And I woke up crying. And weirded out at how my sleep self understood the theory of relativity....
Not that this story relates to your dream.... :)
Reply
It really makes too much sense.
I hope that you find Charleston helps tend some of these wounds.
Reply
Reply
sounds like your escape plans can't come a minute too soon.
Reply
I hope life becomes more pleasant for you with the move back to Charleston.
*hug*
Reply
(at least that's my take on this)
Reply
Congratulations. You just had the American Dream, circa 2011.
The good news is, it's probably just an anxiety dream. It's okay to be worried. Just don't let it cloud your waking judgment. But then you already knew that.
Reply
Leave a comment