Wednesday, November 18, 2009

Offense - Dreams

I had a fucked up dream last night. I dreamt that my dad hooked up with some psycho bitch, and for some reason she hated me, and was threatening to take my kids away from me. My dad never actually made an appearance in the dream, but the psycho bitch was played by the mom from Two and a half Men. She was telling me that I didn't deserve them and couldn't take care of them myself; that she was going to fight for custody of them.

This makes me think about dreams in general. I've said it before over the years, and I'll say it again here: I never ONCE had a dream with Mary in it. Not any that I remember... no sex dreams, no dreams of being eaten by the 50 foot woman, not a single one. EVER. Her and I used to talk about that... she had dreams with me in them all the time. What does THAT imply about my current situation?

I'm pretty good at psycho-analysing myself; I know what this recent dream represents. It represents my deep seeded fear of failure. Thinking about it further, it makes me wonder where this fear came from in my life. Was it my older brother punching me all the time? Was it my mom working late and relying on me to take care of myself too much? Or, was it the fact that I've spent the last 10 years being ridiculed and put down for anything I tried to do?

I'm pretty good about remembering my dreams... Most of them have the same theme, me trying to do something and, no matter how hard I try, I'm totally ineffectual. Like the one where I'm in a fist fight with Chas Adams, a kid from high school (who really was the nicest guy... i didn't know him personally, nor would I have ever had a reason to be in a fight with him. He wasn't a jock, he wasn't a jerk, I cannot think of ANY reason at all I would have fought that guy). I can hear his voice clearly, laughing and taunting me... I swing and hit him in the face, and he doesn't even flinch at all, just keeps laughing.

I remember dreams where I'm running... running my ass off, yet barely moving. Trying to get away from a killer, or trying to save someone from falling. I've had other fight dreams, one where I was a pirate sword-fighting over a bridge, and being knocked off, to fall to my death, failing to save the girl. I remember a dream where I'm trick or treating, yet I'm too late to get any candy; every house I go to is already closed up. All different variations of the same underlying theme... failure.

The good thing is, that I recognize what these dreams are telling me... the BAD thing is, I don't know what the fuck to do about it! I KNOW that this complex affects my everyday life... that I'm not willing to take chances, that I second guess myself constantly, that I am genuinely afraid for my boys, afraid of hurting them, or forgetting on of them at the grocery store, forgetting to give them medicine. I know in my fore-brain that it is a stupid way to be... no one accomplishes anything if they let the fear of failing stop them from trying. But, subconsciously, this fear is still with me... even up to last night.

Graduating from ITT is the first thing that I've set out to do, and actually completed. Yeah, I graduated high school, but I didn't really have a choice in that. Yes, I managed to father two kids, but as they say "Any dick can be a father, but it takes a man to be a daddy," and that isn't a job with an ending. Sure I got married, but that again wasn't something I had a great deal of choice in. Getting this divorce will be the second thing I've ever set out to do and completed. Oh yes, it will be done... and maybe I'll just have to go from there. Making goals and meeting them. One at a time, until I've got enough successes under my belt to squash any future fears.

On a final note, I remember a dream where I'm at my grandmothers house... for some reason she has a washing machine in her living room, and its cursed... if you were to fall into the washing machine and remain for too long, you will die. I fell in it, but climbed out quickly, and was unhurt. However, I was unable to save my sister Tee-la (from He-Man) from falling into it. Consequently, her skin turned green and her head fell off. I then tied her severed head to the ceiling with a string and was able to still talk to her because that somehow kept her alive.

I'm one FUCKED up dude.

The Angry Man

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