I’m still at my parents’ but am losing hope the problem was my apartment. I’m noticing the nausea responds a bit to what I eat – for instance a latte this morning made it worse. Successfully went for the fasting blood test. I forgot to ask when my doctor would get the results.
I dream of messing up a meeting at work – can’t find the documents, can’t find the phone number, important people in suits sitting around waiting for me to figure it out. That sense of panic when you just can’t cope. Eventually everyone leaves, and my father is there. He speaks to no on in particular ‘Look what a stupid daughter I have. Can you believe how stupid she is?’
I turn and yell at him ‘Look how you always treated me! You always put me down! No wonder I’m like this!’
Two people cheer me on, a woman with light hair and a man who is indistinct.
I wake up.
I’ve been reading about Jungian dream analysis. This dream doesn’t fit well with that, but the reading is making me more interested in my dreams. For Jungians everything in a dream is symbolic and stands for something else. And every figure in the dream is a representation of a part of the self.
But if I take the dream more literally, it does make sense to me. Anger at my critical father. I’m thinking that’s what’s coming up for me with Ron. I feel outraged every time he interprets or talks about theory. Why should that upset me? I’m thinking it’s my feelings as a child towards my father.
I was never verbally encouraged, though to be fair my parents did work hard at giving their kids educational experiences – we were all read to, taken to musicals and the opera, taken to art galleries, etc etc. I take a lot of culture for granted – I can tell Bach from Mozart in a moment without any thought, for instance, while my friends cannot.
The lack of encouragement was severe though. Lack of praise I guess. I’d get top marks in school, and that was simply taken for granted. I’d have intellectual type arguments with my father, which he always won, with his adult knowledge and intelligence. Maybe knowledge was used as a battering ram – a way to have power over other people, and to show you were better than they are.
I’ve been angry with my father since I was a child, maybe since grade seven or eight. In the last decades, I’d put that feeling on ice. We don’t interact much in any case. If we did, likely I’d scream at him.
At the same time, I cared very much what he thought. I care a lot less what my mother thinks. Not sure I still care what he thinks, but I did as a child and younger adult. It was unspoken as I got older, but I knew I was a complete disappointment.
Anger hurt rage pain…..Father issues.