02/02/04
Victim Takes A Stand
This dream is from several days ago and was vague even when I awoke from it. I neglected to take notes, so all I can remember is the general plot and a few random images.
Basically, it had to do with my father sexually abusing me, I believe. Note that this has NOT happened in real life. The dream unfolded almost like a television show, it was so melodramatic. I was on the verge of hysteria throughout the entire thing, yet there was a part of me that was in control, as if I were unconsciously planning it out (which I very well could have been, based on my frequent "roleplaying" dream experience--I'm not lucid, but I still control aspects of the dream, without even knowing this is unusual).
I don't know how long the abuse had been going on, if it was longterm or a recent event only. I do believe it was ongoing, at least--that is, not a single incident. And for some reason in the dream I thought of it more as "rape" than as "sexual abuse," even though in this context the two would have meant the same thing. *shrug* In the dream I knew that SOMETHING had happened, and I believe I knew WHAT, but my memory was messed up and so I did not know the specifics. The way it played out was, I knew I had been raped but not by who. I was still at home with Dad (Ma didn't seem to appear in the dream), and he was even helping me cope with what was going on. But I knew on some level that he was in fact the culprit, and I felt he was just playing along in the hopes that I didn't remember what had happened--and I must have been making a pretty good impression that I DIDN'T remember, as he didn't seem to suspect that I suspected him. Confused yet? Sorry.
Like I said, I was nearly hysterical...I was trying to figure out what exactly had happened, and Dad was offering support, but I knew he was only doing it for show, that if I did get too close to the truth he'd start blocking my efforts. This is weird, as in real life Dad is a domineering, aggressive person when he gets angry, but in this dream he was rather simpering and eager to please. Strange. Anyway, I can't remember the order these images went in but I'll put them in the most logical order.
One image was of me receiving a gift of some pictures. I can't remember who they were from--Dad, maybe? If not from him, then maybe from someone who knew what had happened to me and wanted to jog my memory somehow, though I'm not sure. It was like a little booklet or booklets of little pictures of myself and some childhood friends. If not one booklet, then one booklet for each set. Just small wallet-sized headshots. Each one consisted of a photo of the person when they were a child, and then a photo of them now or recently. I know that one of the pairs was of an old childhood friend, Joseph Q. We were friends only for a time, as he was kind of nerdy and grew irritating and we drifted apart; I don't know why he would show up in a dream, as we've had no contact for years. Another booklet was another childhood friend, maybe a girl...I think of Kristi M., who moved away when I was in late elementary school or early junior high, though I can't be positive. We were never close friends but she was friendly to everyone and I admired her; she was a gifted artist who LOVED horses. I believe I envied her, as she was cheerful and outgoing and popular and pretty and talented...but like I said, I don't even know if she was the other one in the photos.
There were at least three sets of images, maybe four, but I know that one of them was a set of images of me. I stood in my bedroom facing the door and flipped through these little sets of pictures, looking at the younger photos and the older/recent ones. Then I got to mine. There was a photo of me as a child, maybe between nine and twelve, grinning at the camera...I might have had my hair in a ponytail, but it was how I wore it back then, loose and with bangs, and I had a huge smile, like I don't wear anymore. I turned to look at my other picture and though I can't remember it specifically, I believe it too was from my childhood. I was puzzled. My own photos didn't fit the pattern...there was no picture of the adult me. In fact, in the dream I received the distinct impression that at least one of these photos of me was of me at age eleven...an age which has some significance for me, as it was both the age at which I first started writing seriously, and the age I always for some reason focus on as the one at which I "stopped" growing up. (I have no real reason why I focus on that age; I just do.) This confused me; why didn't I have an adult picture of myself?
Another image was of me still standing in my room, in my doorway, running my fingers through my hair and tugging on it in panic and frustration. At this point I realized the rape had taken place a year ago--I remember thinking, "It was a year ago? This is why I don't still hurt? Is there ever a point when I get over it? It's been a year and I'm still going crazy! Do I ever return to normal...?" I felt horrible that it had been a YEAR and I still was not over it (on looking back, this is a typical reaction to rape, but in the dream I was truly frustrated by it and wanted to move on); I just hated the thought that I could not move on with my life and return to normal! As if anyone ever CAN be normal after a rape, but in my dream I felt I should be...
The image and feeling of me pulling on my own hair was a very distinct one, for some reason. I get the feeling maybe I was so upset because I didn't like the thought of Dad and others being irritated with me being so fixated on an event which took place a year ago...even though the actions in the dream seemed to indicate that the attack had taken place much more recently, or else it was still occurring on a regular basis.
The third distinct image had to do with a stain on my bed. I knew it was a semen sample, even though it seemed to be orangish-brown or something. I believe I collected it...and gave it to Dad! I told him to take it to the police or something...it's like I was acting with an authority and knowledge which I don't possess. Crime labs do that sort of thing, not victims. Anyway, I handed it to him and he left my room. But this was not the stupid mistake it looked to be; I was setting him up, to see what he would do with the sample. If he were innocent, he would of course take it to the police. If he were in fact the perpetrator, he'd try to cover his tracks. I waited, then crept out of my bedroom to see where he would go. It's almost like I worked with both a feeling of dread and a feeling of numbness, like I wasn't the same person who had been so panicked and frustrated before. I can't explain it; too strange. Suffice it to say I was very levelheaded and methodical, much more than I would ever be in real life. Perhaps I was dissociated or something.
Well, I followed Dad from my bedroom. It's almost like this was both our house and some other, more important place at the same time, like maybe the crime lab was nearby or something? The proportions/spatial relationships didn't seem right somehow, as if they were slightly skewed. Dad went into the kitchen and when I peered in I believe I saw him disposing of the sample in the garbage. That proved it, then: He was the one who had raped me. I think I got the feeling I should panic and go hysterical, but I didn't. I crept back to my room. Sure, it was freaking me out to be under the same roof as this person, but if I flipped out now it would do no good.
Part of me was upset that Dad had disposed of the sample...yet I think I managed to salvage a second sample, either from that stain or from another, and this one I handed to...another person who suddenly appeared. He was male, but I don't know who he was; I get the feeling he was around my age (remember I always feel younger than I really am in my dreams, like a teenager or a student), maybe kind of cute but not the popular guy type, perhaps more of a loner. Oddly enough the vibe I get is that he was a lot like Joseph Q. was when we were friends, only less nerdy and more confident of himself. I knew he was my friend, and I could trust him. I handed the second, smaller sample to him and told HIM to take it to the crime lab to analyze it for results. Although he was not a best friend of mine, and he seemed puzzled over what was going on, I knew I could rely on him to get it done.
In the meantime I guess I still had to live in the same house as Dad, and maybe continue to put up with the attacks--but it's not like I remembered any of them anyway! I seemed to be repressing everything but the emotional reactions afterward and the sense that "something" had happened. I was still filled with dread and unease, but that second sample was on its way to the police, so perhaps some good would come of this.
There was of course more to that dream but that's all I can remember.
Pirates Good! Piracy Bad!
This is a dream from yesterday which I don't remember very well except for the general plot.
In real life Ma has been eyeballing a computer on sale at Wal-Mart and sighing over its price. It's cheap, but we still can't afford it. I believe they sold the last one this past week and she's somewhat glum about that. This seemed to carry into this dream, as I went out into the living room and Ma, in the dining room I think, jubilantly called my attention to an ad or something (I don't think I ever directly saw it) in which she had located a new computer on sale. I think Dad was sitting on the couch, uninvolved in the dream. I went to Ma and she pointed out the price. $300-something. Maybe $398. In real life I think that's STILL too much for us, but if this were real life, she'd probably put something that cheap on layaway anyway. As I always am in real life, I believe I was skeptical in the dream about the price of this thing. NO good computer comes THAT cheap.
I think Ma went to our computer now as if to look at or display something on the screen, maybe an Internet ad for the computer or something. Either I asked her why it came so cheap, or she showed me herself. However, the answer was not a good one. Turns out that while the computer ITSELF was of good quality, all the software that was installed on it was PIRATED, so the companies who had produced it all would not receive a single cent from the sale!
I gaped at Ma in disbelief. She was so happy to have found such a cheap computer--but I was AGHAST! "It's all pirated?" I exclaimed. She didn't seem to care, she was so enthusiastic. But I was not. "That means none of these companies will receive money from this sale," I said. "I can't condone that. It's ripping them off! There's nothing different between this and somebody taking all of MY writing and claiming it as their own. I wouldn't want that to happen to me, so I can't sit here and condone it happening to someone else. You can't buy this computer, Ma. I won't agree with it. Please don't buy it!"
Ma grew more and more unhappy the longer I spoke. I was not so much upset by the idea that these big rich computer companies would not earn any money, as by the fact that if I encouraged this, I would be a hypocrite. It's true that I DO get steamed whenever people plagiarize others' work, and I would hate for it to happen to me. So although I doubt the companies who had manufactured this software would lose much if Ma bought a pirated computer, I still just could not condone it if I hoped to have a clear conscience. If I agreed with this, I might as well just give all my writing to someone else and tell them to have it!
Ma never got angry in the dream, but she grew sullen and depressed. She never said she would NOT buy the computer, but she was so dispirited that I got the feeling she was thinking, "Fine, all right. I won't get it. I hope you're happy." I felt very bad that she was so upset by my reaction, and I wanted to console her, but I didn't know what to say. I just hoped that in the long run she'd realize how close she'd come to doing something very wrong. In the meantime all I could do was be grateful that she wasn't going to buy it, and feel guilty that I had made her feel so unhappy.
This dream may also reflect some conflicting emotions I have concerning copyrights in real life. I am SO big against music file sharing and plagiarism and such (the whole "They charge too much for CDs! Musicians make too much money as it is!" argument falls flat with me--that's the deal with capitalism, artists make big money and CDs cost a lot, and WE are the ones who keep demanding and paying for it--that's the way it is--so live with it!--it doesn't make stealing right!), yet I must confess that I have clicked on and viewed some written works online which, while their copyright has expired in some foreign countries, are still copyrighted in the US. The page they are linked from says in huge letters, "WARNING! RESTRICTED ACCESS!" and "Do not click on or download these if you reside in the United States." Even the builder of the page says that as he is situated in the US, he cannot check the links to see if they work, even though he was the one who made them. I have justified myself by thinking, "If they didn't want US residents to read these, then they would have banned US IP addresses, or they would not have posted these links on a site which can be accessed from the US; and I doubt the webmaster is so upright that he has refrained from checking his OWN links!" I also sit and think that since the copyright has expired overseas, why not here? On some of the works the exact status of the US copyright is even uncertain and they could very well be public domain. However, I realize this is all still very hypocritical of me, and if I were REALLY as adamant about all this as I say I am, I would never have clicked on those links in the first place. I still check them out (I have yet to read an entire work), and I must confess that I get frustrated sometimes by works I would like to read which are not available in the public domain, so yes, this has resulted in some very conflicting feelings. :/
2004 Dreams
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