Location(s): Unknown Residence of Future, Behavioral Health Center
Participants: Mother, Father*, Grandparents*, Boyfriend**, Family, Friends, Co-workers, Pink Streak Grunge Guy**
* Currently Deceased
** Representative Individuals (Not currently recognizable associates)
Time: Future / Past ?
Background: I'm usually asleep by 9:00 PM every night.
In this dream, I am having a rough time sleeping. It's 10:30 or 11:00 and the bf brings home Pink Streak Grunge Guy (hereafter refered to as PSGG). They get in bed and begin having sex (all the way past third base). Their stirring next to me wakens me, and I just pretend to sleep as they continue on in their endeavor.
Eventually, the bf gets up and goes to get a drink. PSGG then decides to engage me in sexual behavior of the homosexual variety. He has a streak of florescent pink hair in his head--more grunge based that effeminate. We begin to talk and he tells me that my husband won't have intercourse with me cause I've got some serious mental issues to resolve in my life.
I get up and walk down a long hallway to go get a drink of water and the dream fast forwards to a family dinner (location unknown). At the dinner, an intervention team comes in and takes me off to a behavioral health center. I go to what seems to be a 1000 therapy sessions, not really wanting to change, nor acknowledging that I need to change. My family visits regularly in a family room style of environment. They continue to point out my negativity and attitude among my behavioral problems.
After months of therapy, I have a break through. It's amazing. I start challenging every thought I have and have ever had. Simple things I didn't notice before about my behavior and speech now become apparent to me. It's a completely different outlook on life--but it's exhausting. So exhausting that it's easy to revert.
But I've seen the light and I want to move towards that different level of understanding. I'm still in the center, but I'm okay with it. I'm less negative on myself and less suicidal.
Dream Ends.
No comments:
Post a Comment