07/15/02
(Bad) Memories Are Made Of This

Let's see if I can get this all in the right order. It was a very sad dream. I'm going only by notes I have written down as the dream itself is vague by now.

I think the dream began with me sitting on the couch beside either Ma or Dad. I was at the far end of the couch and I had a new pet rat. It looked like Katchoo, only it was smaller; I think it was also a female. I may have named it "Katchoo 2" or something and it was meant as an actual REPLACEMENT for her. You can't replace a pet, obviously, but in the dream I was really trying to. I remember it crawled around on me just like Katchoo had, and even jumped on my shoulder and such, exactly the same--only it was quicker. So I felt mildly comforted and mildly sad at the same time that it was so much like Katchoo. In that part of the dream it was dim in the room, like overcast and getting late outside with the lights off inside. The rat may have gone toward the other person on the couch, but it always came back to me. It could jump very well.

In real life a day or so ago, Ma accidentally ended up at a porn site but didn't know it until I pointed out the banner ad at the bottom which featured a cartoon woman with very large breasts flashing the viewer. I think that worked its way into the dream, as I believe it continued with us receiving some kind of porn e-mail featuring animated cartoons. I remember seeing a rather well-animated anime-type woman, perhaps in blue; it looked kind of like a science-fiction thing, and would have been attractive if it hadn't been pornographic. I think she was in a section on the left-hand side of the screen. It was also like it was a show on TV; I told Ma to change the channel or something, then went to the bathroom. However, I was also intrigued by what was going on in the cartoon; it was a bit more specific...I remember now. I think the character was taking a bath, but there was something else going on also; it wasn't merely a bath. She was making noises, and as I went in the bathroom (or wherever I was going--perhaps I just thought I went there, as there's already a bathroom association in the dream) I was listening to them to try to figure out what was going on. But as if out of spite, Ma turned down the volume so I couldn't hear it where I was, ending the suspense.

I can't remember specifically what happened, but I know that now Dad was home, and he and Ma were arguing while I was in my room. They weren't yelling, but just arguing, and Dad was saying all kinds of awful names--and instead of being aimed at Ma, many seemed to be aimed at me. I can't even remember why he was mad, but I remember he called me a "monkey" or some such at one point. He seemed mostly angry that I have never done anything to support myself in my life. I also specifically remember him mentioning that my brother, Eric, had "gotten away" early--meaning, Eric had moved out of the house before he could become a lazy ingrate like me, so Eric wasn't subject to the same insults. He wasn't saying any of this to my face, and that made it even more hurtful--that he could say it, yet not to me! I couldn't believe how poorly he must have thought of me all these years. I felt so humiliated.

I don't know what order it goes in, but in one part in here in my room, I had some different kinds of food sitting on my bed--I remember chicken legs and chicken nuggets. I ate some of the legs or something, only to have someone--Dad?--bring me the nuggets, so I didn't know if I could finish it all.

Anyway...it was Sunday, clothes washing day, and that was Dad's task in my dream. I think my clothes were piled outside my door, as usual, and I heard Dad come walking my way. I quickly pretended to be busy cleaning my room, over by the file cabinets, keeping my head low so he couldn't see the tears in my eyes. I just shuffled a few cassette tapes around when he came in, muttering something about washing the clothes tomorrow instead of today. Maybe he was tired. But now he was leaving, or maybe just going to bed, and he came over to kiss me goodbye or goodnight. (Even though it was daytime, maybe early afternoon.) I still tried to hide my tears. He gave me something--a little "noise gear," as I have written down. It looked like a little round cog, thick, maybe about as big as a dime in diameter, or slightly bigger. Perhaps brassy in color. I think it made a noise when you pushed on it a certain way, but I can't recall what the noise was. I couldn't say thank you, as I felt so awful, but pretended to be thankful for it anyway. Dad had been calling me an ungrateful monkey just a few moments ago. Why was he being nice now?

He had no idea I'd heard what he'd said about me, and I was too ashamed to tell him or to call him on it. So I endured the feeling in silence...it was so awful to know I was hated by my own dad!

I went to my file cabinet and here found some printed-out pictures of myself. Different pictures from different periods, yet they all seemed to have been printed out on a printer, or else taped to printer paper. My shame and humiliation grew and I picked up each picture and systematically ripped them through, each in the same manner--the tear going straight vertically through my face, tearing me in two. Every single one. In pictures where I was with someone--I think I found an old one where I was beside Eric, which just made me feel worse--I made sure to spare the other person, ruining just my own image. I felt a brief fear that as soon as Ma discovered I had ruined all of them she would be furious--in real life once I stole all my senior pictures from her because I was so ugly, and she still got mad--why get so mad over such a horrible picture?--it was as if she cared more about the photos than about how I felt about them. I felt she would react the same way in the dream. She wouldn't care that I felt like a piece of dirt about it. I briefly considered sparing at least one picture, but then, in a spurt of anger, tore it in half as well, right through my face.

If I was as useless as Dad said, why should there be any pictures remaining of me, intact? It wouldn't matter if I was truly so hopeless. It would be best if I'd never existed; and to an extent, I was "destroying" myself in the only, limited way I knew how.

I went out into the utility room, or maybe the dining room, to try to talk to Ma. I wanted her to see how upset I was; when I'm upset I try to talk to her, even though she can't seem to understand me. I'm of the mind that I'm an emotional type while Ma and Dad are thinking types. In the dream, the results were the same as in real life; she didn't care to hear about how upset I was, and my tears meant very little to her. She wasn't moved at all; in fact, I sensed she was aloof and annoyed that I was there, as I was the cause of her argument with Dad. My sorrow only grew.

This part here confuses me slightly, as I can't remember the significance or how it started. But there was a song that I really did NOT want to hear. I can't remember why. Perhaps it had been playing when the argument had been going on, but for some reason I associated it with everything bad that had been happening to me. Either it came on the TV/radio and/or Ma started humming/singing it, but it seriously ground on my nerves, stirring up my emotions even more. I believe the song was that one where the guy sings, "One girl, one boy, some grief, some joy. Memories are made of this."

(I just looked the song up and it appears to be a Dean Martin song. That sounds about right. I have only ever heard those two lines in commercials for some oldies album on TV.)

I asked Ma, as calmly as I could, if she would stop singing/playing the song. I hoped she would understand and see the pain it was causing me. She just gave me this look and started singing/playing it all the louder. What the hell was with everybody in this dream! They were all being so cruel!

I put my hands to my ears and plugged them and started to hum, but I could still hear the song. So I started desperately looking for a place to get away from it and to be by myself. I was unsuccessful. I left the house and ran outside toward the garage, but everything looked different--and it was like a radio was blaring the song out here, too. It was raining so the pavement was slick and wet and the sky gray; I was quickly getting soaked as I ran about wildly, by now sobbing. I just wanted to be alone, and to get away from that music--but I couldn't do either. There was no safety on the porch, and I didn't want to go back inside.

I ran toward the front yard instead. The first thing I noticed was how GREEN the trees were. Though overcast, some white light seemed to be shining down through the treetops, which looked more like weeping willows than maples, so the green had a strange translucent, luminescent effect. I liked it; it was so beautiful, and would have been so peaceful had it not been for the nightmare I was already in. I remembered it was Easter Sunday, and thought that it sure was green out for Easter. I started trying to run across the lawn, only to find myself scurrying back and forth in a panic. The light kept seeming to dim, and my fear kept growing--so it was much akin to a "darkness falling" dream, only it never grew truly dark. It just kept getting more overcast, and every time it did I felt suffocated, closed in. Very strange.

Anyway, I went back inside, as the changing light and the rain were bothering me, and I think the song had finally died down. I went up on the back porch and all of a sudden noticed Cosmas, my cat, beside me. I felt he hadn't been outside, but he'd been on the porch or near it, and now wanted back in. We didn't interact much, but I did feel for him a bit as I opened the door to the utility room and he trotted in. Much like me, it looked like he had been forgotten, also. But he didn't pay me much attention once he was inside. *sigh* In fact, throughout the entire dream, the only being I felt any sort of emotional connection with was "Katchoo 2," and she disappeared after the first part of the dream.

In the utility room, I saw I was wearing boots that were now slick with water. I was trying to take them off when Ma approached, also from outside, I think, though she seemed to come from the other side of the room. She too was wearing boots that were all slick and wet. "Did someone 'rescue' you, Cosmas?" she said, or something similar (I know she did use the word "rescue" in a derisive manner). She talked to the cat a bit while ignoring me, even when I think I tried to ask her what she had been doing and what was going on. It was as if I weren't even there.

It may have been earlier, when I was leaving the house when Ma wouldn't stop humming/singing--or it may have been here. I blew up. I turned straight to Ma and said, "Fine. F--K it!" as loudly as I could, before turning and leaving. Maybe not the best reaction, but I wanted to try to get a rise out of her by swearing. Immediately afterwards I turned and left--so perhaps this was earlier in the dream, before I ran outside. I was just so frustrated with everything!

When I awoke, the name "Nipissing" was with me for some reason. It's a prehistoric name for the combined Great Lakes, I think. I felt cold as well, and tearful. As a whole the dream had not been pleasant at all.



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