Richard's Silent Death

Yet another disturbing dream about Richard and Mom. Dreamt that I was living at home with Richard and Mother. The house was in shambles. Mother got angry with me for no reason, saying I had to get a job if I wanted to remain living there, despite having disability payments. All Richard did was follow Mother and I around the house so he could witness the conversation. Mother took Richard's side, acting as though she didn't care what happened to me.

After much discussion, I thought my only option was suicide. Richard suggested I slit my wrists as opposed to overdosing on pills. I go back to Mother, begging for some scrap of a possibility that I could remain living there. I then turned around, which had me facing out of Mother's bedroom door, toward the hall closets. I looked down and saw Richard opening the bottom drawer of the hall closet, in a manner similar to opening a Chinese puzzle box. (In reality, the bottom drawer in question was a false drawer, and could only be accessed through the air vent around the corner; a hidden feature of the house.)

At this point I start to lose it, because everyone else in the family knew how to open the drawer except for me. A baseball bat, or similar object, materialized in my hand, and I began to bead Richard about the face. Mother had little reaction. I beat Richard to the point that he was unrecognizable. I dropped the bat, began to cry. I then woke up.

More Richard Bullshit

The number of dreams about Richard I'm having is getting ridiculous. I wake up in the worst mood because of it.

Last night I dreamt that Mother and I were moving into a new home, which had a similar layout to the house on 22nd Place. The entire place was in disarray, with our things halfway unpacked. Mom leaves for a while, and Zach Keeter comes over. Somehow him and I wind up in bed together, talking and flirting.

Later, Mother shows back up with Richard in tow, along with a black family, the daughter of which Richard intends to marry. Zach seems to disappear. As in life, Richard gets into my business and wants to get confrontational for absolutely no reason. He forces himself into my bedroom to argue with me so that Mother won't hear the bullshit spewing from his foul mouth. At some point he gets physical and I begin screaming for Mother's help. Somehow I manage to pick Richard up, carry him through the living room, where Mother and the black family are laid out on the floor, too frightened to move. I wind up hurling Richard across the street into a large pond of water in the Corwin's lawn. Next thing I see, the Corwins are trying to "revive" Richard by blowing air through large straws into the water.

Let's hope he stays dead in my dreams...

Travelling

Yeah, it's been a while since I've posted, but recently my dreams have been nearly all the same: I'm preparing for a long-distance trip via plane. At the same time, I'm also packing to move. Everything is in disarray and I'm having difficulty keeping track of my things. I start to panic, thinking I'm losing a lot of things, and at the same time trying to make the plane. At some point I forget to get a passport at the last minute. Heather Hill appears here and there, and subsequently makes things far more stressful, as she takes on the role of top cunt. Frequently after this dream I wake up in a sweat.

Into Surgery...

Disturbing, but short, dream about having to go into surgery for some reason. I remember going under anesthesia, then waking up with a large scar under my navel, like a c-section at 90 degrees. After that all I can remember is that I was refused pain medication from everyone. Mother was there, as well as someone else, which may have been Linda Corwin or Marie McFarlane. Eventually I was just walking the halls of the hospital, half-heartedly looking for someone to give me pain medication. At some point I run into Brian Marley (of all people). We talk for a bit. Nothing after that.

Abuse

Now that I've been on Zoloft for a week, I think it's starting to have a serious effect on my dreams. At first I was having a disturbing dream, would wake up, then go back to sleep and have a sexually-charged dream.

Last night was slightly different. This time it was just disturbing. Again, I was travelling, or had travelled, rather, as I didn't spend much time in a vehicle. Either way the disturbing part was the abuse that Richard was directing toward me. I remember him taking away anything I needed, including food and clothes. At one point I realized I didn't have my medication, and we were far from any place that could help me. This made his day. I also remember having to sneak around to try to rewire a telephone that had been pulled from the wall, just in order to attempt to make an emergency call. I remember thinking that if I could only call home (Mother), everything would be okay. I never got away and was never able to reconnect the telephone and make a call before I woke up.

I'm getting really tired of having dreams that feature Richard abusing me. It's just a reminder that my entire relationship with my only brother was an abusive one. In real life it was never physical, though he certainly threatened it, and I wouldn't put it past him to resort to being physical. All the abuse I took from my brother was mental and verbal, both just as bad as physical abuse. I guess there's a part of my brain that wants to confront him about this, but in all reality that is not going to happen. He's no longer family, and the only thing we have in common is that we have the same parents. Honestly, the more I have these dreams, the more angry I am at him for his behavior.

On a loop...

Been having some repetitive dreams recently, mostly of Richard being abusive. No details to pass on, so I'll keep this post short. Strange though, on two occasions, I woke up, grabbed something to drink, then went back to bed and had overtly sexual dreams. But then, I'm starting on Zoloft right now, so it could be that... Who the hell knows?

Dreamless...

Just a 'lil update. I'm not ignoring this blog. I just can't remember any of my dreams recently. Hopefully this will soon change...

Where's The Dream?

Well since I've been back on klonopin, dreams are difficult to recall once I wake up. Last night I did have one where I was at some friendly gathering and Justin Ward was there, but younger than he really is. We kept trying to get alone so we could play around. That's about the extent of what I remember.

So, it's not that I've been lazy or not having dreams. I'm just having difficulty remembering them once I wake up. So keep your eyes peeled for new dreams.

A Comment On Comments...

Comments, as always, are welcome on all my blogs. But Blogger has had problems with what they call "comment spam". As a result, when you go to leave a comment, you'll be asked to retype a word shown in a box, for verification that you're human. Also you do not have to sign up to leave comments. Simpy select "anonymous" and leave your comment with your name at the end, if you wish.

Bad medicine and lions...

Very strange and disturbing dream last night, atypical of my usual dreams. Dreamt that I was starting to go into Addisonian crisis, so I headed to a hospital which partly seemed like Saint John's. Somehow I was seen almost immediately. Mother was with me and drifted in and out of the room. At one point the doctor said he needed a sample of the fluid inside my eye. Naturally I started to freak out. Mother was rather indifferent to the situation. It was as though Mother was a ghost-like presence rather than a tangible being with me in the room.

Somehow I managed to run out of the hospital. I run out of the front entrance, which opens to a large park-like area, surrounded by quaint houses. It was dark. I start to run down a side street to a parked car in the distance. Halfway there, I see two lions in the middle of another side street, one male, one female. For some reason, I whistled to call over the male lion which I found to be friendly. Inevitably the female follows, but I'm terribly frightened of it, but not afraid at all of the male. As I approach the parked car, the lions seem to just vanish behind me as I pay attention to my eventual escape from the whole scenario.

The parked car is white, an older model like a Cadillac. I swing open the passenger-side door, jump in and slam the door shut. I look over, and in the driver's seat there is a slim African-American woman waiting for me. I don't know her, but I act as though I was expecting her to be there. At this point the dream cuts off...

Projectionist Job (Lucid again?)

Laid down for a small nap and dreamt that I was at some sort of job interview. It seemed like I was applying for a projectionist job, but somehow it was tied in with a school if I remember correctly. The person who was interviewing me was very familiar, but I can't recall who it was other than it was a man. The part that makes me think it may have been a lucid dream was that I recall telling the interviewer that lately I had been having many dreams about being a projectionist again. It just crossed my mind that several of the men in the management were directors/counselors from Street School. This makes sense, since in real life I was working at the Annex 7 about the same time I attended Street School. I remember bragging about how quickly I could thread a projector.

Dream Lapse... Again

Well, I'm in another rut where I can't remember my dreams, even as I just wake up. My poor digital voice recorder isn't getting the use I thought it would by now. Hopefully something will stick so I'll have something interesting to post here.

Moving in again.

Yet another dream where I'm moving from some unknown place back into Mother's house. I remember getting my things back into my bedroom and remembering how small the room was, in dire need of remodeling. The few times that Richard was around he was playing his usual part of fucking things up and not fixing them or apologizing, and Mother just putting up with it while I throw a fit about how useless he is. I remember one little scrap of a scene that featured Joshua Jones, but that makes sense considering the setting. Essentially it's the same 'ole moving bit, where Dad can't help me and I have to find some way of getting me and my things back over to Mother's. It's usually nighttime and inclement weather.

This is one of those repetitive dreams I'm getting rather tired of. Sure, it's nice to see Mother, but she's playing a less than becoming role, like everybody else.

Where's The Dreams?

Been getting some decent sleep recently, but I've been forgetting my dreams the moment I wake up. This will pass, I'm sure. So for now you guys who actually read my dream journal will have to wait until my brain friggin' works again.

Ethan / Fragmented & Choppy

I have been sleeping on and off all day today, so this is kind of a mix of my dreams from last night, as well as the dreams I had during my napping. They all connected for the most part.

I was working at Annex 7 and saw a lot of my old boss Roger Black. There was a lot of tension because I couldn't work all the time, so I think I quit. Ethan was with me almost the entire time. Heather Hill was there on and off, acting like she used to (as a friend). Ethan and I were heavily sexual with each other, despite who was around. We're walking all over Tulsa, at night, in a lot of the ficticious areas my brain has created in Tulsa. What we're doing isn't clear, we're just covering a lot of ground. Every so often thing come in close, like a camera closeup, and Ethan and I are very intimate during these episodes, then it goes back to walking all over town. At some point we were driving and he dropped me and Heather off, near the house on 22nd, with the intention of picking us right back up, but he never showed up. I remember talking with him over the phone several times. Later, we're at what is apparently my house. Ethan and I are intimate again, and then I check an answering machine where Brad Wickware has left nearly a dozen messages asking for me.

That's all I can recall at the moment.

Half-Lucid Again?

Much the same scenario as the last dream, though this time it was certain that I was having to move back home. The place had become very dilapidated, which made me sob even more. Woke up crying again, although not to the degree that I did last time.

Half-Lucid?

This was a short dream, as I had already gotten up for the day, but laid back down on the couch for a small snooze. Dreamt I was living with Mother and Richard again. There was some sort of an event that included us, many neighbors, as well as the Corwins. I can't recall what triggered it, but Richard was on a total rampage, much like how he behaved in real life. I don't remember the circumstances nor the consequences of the situation, but no one would help me. Not even Mother. I remember pleading with Mother to get Richard out of the situation (just as what happened in real life), but Mother was essentially unable to respond. I begin to go around this event, looking for anyone who recognizes me that may be able to help me out of this situation. I remember running into Linda, who shrugged me off as though I were a minor annoyance. At this point I'm panicking, as I see both Mother and Richard emerge from the kitchen, just having discussed the situation, and Richard having once again successfully convincing Mother that I'm simply overreacting, etc.

At this point in the dream I realize that I'm crying in real life. I wouldn't call it a lucid dream, as I was unable to control what was going on, but I was halfway aware that I was crying in real life. It's been about ten minutes since I've woken up and I still haven't been able to stop crying. Perhaps I'll be able to elaborate more on this later today.

Dreamer's Note (I'm Being Heard?!?)

There's a comment on the previous post asking me to start posting to my World Of Ennui blog. I had no idea people were reading my dream journal other than people I personally know. This has excited and inspired me to get some posts ready for that blog. Expect to see something in the next day or so. Apparently the blog description has baited a reader (much appreciated), but I'm hoping my tidbits will be universally funny. Some of the material I was planning on posting is Tulsa-related, but then I remind myself that ennui is universal.

So, Daniel's World Of Ennui will be up and running sooner than expected, all thanks to "a boy named gmu". This may even inspire me to make my personal journal public, as it's a goldmine of dirty information. Even if you don't know me it's at least a voyeur's coffee break. I'll keep you guys posted on things. Thanks again "a boy named gmu".

Sawhorses

Dream which was part of a larger (and forgotten) dream. I was living at home with Mother and Richard, and Mother said she needed to borrow my checkbook. She needed me to write out a check so she could have some carpenter's sawhorses made that were elongated and painted red, white and blue. Richard was to do the work apparently and said he'd get to it in the next "three thousand hours" (this is what I said in the recording), but five minutes later he was asking for the money to make them.

So we go outside and the sawhorses are already there, painted, laying out on the driveway. I said "This is ridiculous, I'm not paying for this bullshit". Richard starts to get angry while Mother asks me "Why not?". I said "because none of us here are gymnasts, and secondly it's taking up space and thirdly, why don't we grind it all up into mulch and cover up that dirty-ass shit on the ground."

Note: The quotes are directly from the recording. Funny stuff, eh?

Dreamer's Note

Since being put on methadone for pain management, my dreams have been very difficult to remember, even at the moment of waking. Hopefully I'll be able to catch up with it and start documenting dreams again soon. But a good thing has come from it: I've been getting the most restful sleep I've had in years.

Dreamer's Note

Since being put on a new pain medication, I've been having strange dreams, but have not been able to remember them, even at the moment I wake, so I don't even have any recordings. I'm hoping that once I get used to the new medication I'll be able to at least record the dream before getting out of bed. All I can say about my dreams recently is that they were very disjointed and in quick-cut style. Hopefully my next post will be a good recounting of a dream.

To The Funeral...

Was living with Mother; Richard was out of the picture. Apparently a member of the family on Mother's side had passed away, and at a very young age. Four or five. We had to attend a funeral and Brianna went with me, plus a couple of other girls that were friends, but I couldn't make out their faces. Greta Rauch-MacLean was also there, which neither me nor Brianna were happy about, but invited her nonetheless. Also I had a faceless male companion, whom I was apparently dating.

The funeral took place in a colossal high-end shop. In the center of the shop were several unusually shaped tables, arranged as though a restaurant without walls were centered in the shop. On my way to the funeral, I recall petting a golden retriever several times. I saw several family members at this funeral, including Mother.

I don't remember the actual service, but I did at one point ball my eyes out on my way to the funeral. My clothing was inappropriate for the occasion, but it was all I had; I don't recall precisely what I was wearing, but it was not right for the occasion. Everyone else was dressed nicely. Greta wore a ridiculous pink prom dress that looked like a cake. As we all walk towards the funeral, a voice over the loudspeaker system announces that we need to hurry up. We pick up speed, and Greta starts to keep pace with me. For some reason I don't want her near me, so I begin to jog. Greta reacts with a nasty attitude, so stopped and told her right then and there to fuck off. She left fuming. Brianna later tells me in private that she was so angry about it that she put steak in Greta's purse before she left.

More took place in this dream, but I can't remember...

Local Church Gift Shop

Setting: living at the house on Vandalia. I was having to run an errand to drop off a car somewhere west of the house, and had to walk back home. On my walk back, I came across a church. Something told me to go inside, so I did. The main area had no people, but I could hear voices emanating from the back rooms, a casual sermon just wrapping up. The church members were lower-class, but very warm and friendly.

After the sermon was finished, a church member approached, welcomed me to the church, and invited me to take a look at their "gift shop" in the back, which sold various religious items. Rows of tarot cards and holy cards lined one table. On the next table were these strange clip-like items. It was as though three alligator clips were attached to each other with a small chain, to form a Y. I wondered what this was for, so I asked a nearby woman. She replied that the alligator clip configuration was for committing suicide. For some reason I wanted to purchase one.

The shop was full of items I wanted to buy, including one item that stood out. It was a teal-green machine, about the size and shape of one of those Kit-N-Kaboodle makeup boxes. The device's purpose was to "verify" ping pong balls. Working similar to those lotto ping pong ball devices, you would drop in a ball at the top, the ball would spin around inside and be ejected on the side, marked with verification somehow. I wanted to buy this machine, but for some reason didn't.

On the table opposite, there was a kitten sitting all alone. It was the cutest thing I've ever seen. In the church, the cat appeared dark grey, but when I got it home (I apparently purchased the kitten), the cat's fur was a deep purple, similar in color and texture to a Crown Royal bag, almost velvety. I remember Mother adoring the cat as much as I did.

Operation Loop

Disturbing and choppy dream. I'm working from memory here, as I was hesitant to record it when I woke, thinking I wouldn't want to remember it.

The most prominent scene I remember, I was living at home with Mother and Richard, and surprisingly, Don Boatman was there (Mother's old ex-boyfriend). I was in real jeopardy, arguing with Mother like nothing I could imagine. She seemed to be drugged up and was trying to impose ridiculous rules on me. I was verbally backed into a corner and schemed how to get myself out of the situation.

At one point I wandered through the house, looking for items to take with me on a walking trip to find help. I grabbed a tray of cookies, and set them down in the bathroom, where Don Boatman followed me. I remember stepping into the shower, which had several filthy shower curtains hung within. I jumped onto the curtain closest to Don, hanging there by my fingernails digging into the plastic. I could see my reflection in the nearby mirror (which is very uncommon for me in dreams). My mouth was like Kali, blood-smeared, and my eyes and lips charcoaled out.

Then the scene jumps to me in the hospital, where I go under total anesthesia for some sort of operation. Upon waking, the nurse fails to disconnect IVs and generally just leaves me in the bed in the same state which I arrived. I managed to get out of bed, searching all over for someone to help me, to remove these IVs, and apparently a catheter, although I didn't see or feel it.

This then looped back to being with Mother, Richard and Don Boatman, where I tried to get back to the hospital for help. I thought my life was in danger, and panicked heavily. Again, I was picking up the tray of cookies, back into the same loop as at the beginning of the dream.

Dreamer's Note

No, I haven't been ignoring my blog, I simply haven't captured any dreams on the voice recorder, and none have been memorable enough to flesh out in a post. I'm considering posting some of the repetitive dreams I have. Since adolescence I've had a set of about twenty or so dreams that repeat at arbitrary intervals, but all with slight changes, sometime character changes. Character changes I believe are significant, as it's often hard for me to discern who I'm with in my dreams. The faces are often fuzzed out, or my field of vision places them just at the peripheral, making identification impossible (especially considering I can't dream lucidly). Characters are often identified through voices, or simply intuition. For me, lucid dreaming isn't possible, but I'm hoping I can eventually get myself to that point.

Dream-Guy Dry Cleaner

Strange dream, brought on most likely by thinking about Justin before falling asleep. Dreamt that I was living back at home, but couldn't quite tell if Mother was alive or not. Apparently I got a job working part-time at the dry-cleaners in Mayo Meadows (shopping center directly behind the house), although it was in the space where the pharmacy was. I wound up working nights with a guy about my age, very good looking. I remember him "showing me the ropes", but we never actually worked, or manned the store. What we did do was go through what seemed like a thrift store in the shopping center, looking for certain items and tagging them. Occasionally a little girl followed in tow, seemed like his little sister. At one point we were on our way to do some more tagging, making our way through several corridors in the shopping center, I arrived at a glass door inside the thrift store, which I had to pass through in order to get in. There were other ways to enter, but for some reason I just went through this door even though I remember seeing a sticker warning of a siren if the door were to be opened. The guy, nameless, didn't seem to mind me doing this. Just before going in, we had passed through what seemed like a hole-in-the-wall cafe, where I stole some flatware and pocketed it prior to heading into the thrift store. After setting off the alarm at the glass door, a security officer approached the "guy", letting us know we were not to enter via that door. The officer was very annoyed with me, directly insulting my intelligence in front of the "guy". After some time in the thrift store, I began to wonder how this "guy" knew all about the ins and outs of Mayo Meadow, and at some point I witnessed, third-person, a pastiche of scenes depicting the "guy's" history with the shopping center, much like a flashback scene in a sitcom.

Later, we seemed to never be at the dry cleaners at all. It was night, and he took me up on the roof, where we smoked a bit of a bowl, wandered around a bit. It was very dark and I needed guidance. I remember the "guy" pointing out amusement rides set up at the fairgrounds off in the distance. Also, I remember taking him through the Mayo Meadow alley, making several footnotes along the way, eventually winding up in my backyard, where we entered my bedroom through the window. I believe he met Mother, although I remember telling him that she had passed.

Abandoned

Completely jumbled dream: Mom and Dad were together, it was very snowy outside and I was living with them and Richard at the house on Vandalia, although Mom and Dad were hardly there. I was in a foul mood, making rude comments left and right, especially directed at Dad. I remember telling Mother that I faked love for my brother just to make her happy. (Did I realize in my dream that Mother had passed on?) At some point we were all at a restaurant, late at night, which was attached to some sort of airport. I got really upset again and said I was leaving, and then told Mother to come with me. Mother and I somehow got distracted and rushed into a very dark room with small pools of light. For some reason I knew this place to be a shop of some sort. In one of the pools of light was Linda (God-Mother). She said "Hello, Daniel". Next thing I know, me, Mom and Dad were in some sort of vehicle and again I was furious, making rude comments about my father. Jump again to the front lawn of the house on Vandalia. Richard is there, no sign of Mom or Dad. No snow this time. It's daytime and the place is trashed, not dissimilar to how Richard actually lives. All of a sudden, friends of his started showing up, being loud and boisterous. At that point in the dream I felt extremely suicidal. I did not realize I was dreaming.

A sidenote: perhaps the anger and frustration in this dream is caused by Justin (Ward) breaking up with me again. Also I had taken hydrocodone earlier in the night.

Muddy Pond In The Driveway

[Part One] Living with Mother. Richard was out of the picture. Mother and I went on some sort of trip, more than likely a roadtrip. When we returned home, Linda and Chuck (God-Parents) had apparently dug an enormous pond in the space where the driveway and southern part of the lawn was (house on Vandalia). The pond was green and murky, with a large supply of snakes, eels and other strange aquatic animals. The dream then switched.

[Part Two] Dreamnt that I was going to the mall, which seemed like the Promenade, but it had been totally redone/refurbished, etc. I was unaware of my purpose for being there. A black girl with braces, embedded with diamonds, approached me and started to talk to me. I was just trying to shop, but she kept trying to take a book out of my hand, a book which I actually own, called "Physics For The Rest Of Us".

[Part Three] Connection between the two dreams: It seems that I was going to that store (or the mall) which I originally thought was Target, but it expanded into Promenade Mall. I was shopping for outdoor decorative items to decorate the pond that Chuck and Linda had built while Mother and I were on the roadtrip/vacation. A sidenote: Mother was in a really good mood, seemed very healthy and vibrant. The house on Vandalia seemed like it had been rebuilt/remodeled. Richard was completely out of the picture

Another new start...

At the suggestion of my therapist, I've decided to start a dream journal. Straight from the therapist's office, to Staples Office Supply, I purchased a nice digital voice recorder to keep at my bedside to record my dreams the moment I wake up. This will then be transferred to this personal blog, with additional details added if I am able to remember them.

Wish me luck, as I sometimes have a hard time keeping up with journal-ing.