No, I'm not stressed
Nov. 21st, 2002 11:01 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mousmeHad some pretty appalling dreams/nightmares last night.
The first dream started out as a kind of garden party that was being hosted in early spring. I know this because it was being held outside but there was still snow on the ground and we were setting up a skating rink which we knew wasn't going to be used because the ice would be too soft.
Still, everyone was in a tizzy because the preparations had all been made last-minute and we had to fetch people from all over the city. I had a car in the dream, although it didn't look like my own car: it was older and looked very much the worse for wear. I remember being very anxious for the entire dream because so many things depended on me.
The main focus for a long time seemed to be calling my friend Martina in Sardinia from my cell phone. I wanted to wish her happy holidays, as I recall, and also perhaps invite her to this function. I remember thinking, when I spoke to her, that her French had greatly improved. She was busy, though, and said she'd have to call me back.
The scene shifted slightly to one of the serving tables at the party where I was working. It was then that I realised that this was a corporate luncheon, and that a lot was on the line here. One of my superiors told me to do something, and I nodded and said I'd get right on it. I finished putting the table together and went to complete the request, but when I got back my current trainer (IRL) was there, and told me to pack my things, that I had been fired because of my "poor attitude and lack of cooperation."
In my dream I became very upset, and begged and pleaded with her to let me stay, that I'd never let such a lapse happen again, but she firmly and coldly informed me that they had a "zero tolerance" policy on these matters and shoved all my papers in my arms, telling me that I could always reapply to work there in 12 months.
I left and walked towards my car (wondering how I was going to make all my payments), trying to balance all my papers. I checked my cell phone and saw that my friend Martina had left five messages and was still trying to reach me, but I was too upset to call her back. Instead I called![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
firewillow and burst into tears on the phone when she answered. She asked me why I had called her, and I replied "I had no one else to call." I couldn't tell whether she was annoyed or just anxious in the dream, but I eventually had to hang up in order to drive home.
The last part of that dream is a bit hazy, but I remember that I was so upset that I took a wrong turn on the way home and ended up driving into two lanes of oncoming traffic and being relieved that my father wasn't there to tell me what a lousy driver I was.
The second dream was actually a nightmare, as opposed to the anxiety-ridden dreams I generally have. They're not usually scary so much as just uncomfortable.
This one also started at a type of outdoor party, where I was a guest. It was in a Great Gatsby-esque setting, in which I was a young man who had been invited to a lavish party given by a well-known and beautiful socialite who was married to a famous actor of sorts.
It seemed that the socialite had not in fact asked permission of her husband to throw this party at his expense, and she merely laughed off everyone's anxious inquiries as to whether he would be upset with her, saying that he couldn't possibly have anything to say to her. She seemed to imply that he was not in a position to reproach her, although no one really knew what she was talking about, as he was generally well-regarded.
As she was saying this, he appeared in the doorway, looking extremely forbidding. Actually (and this is the only funny part of the dream), at that particular moment he looked exactly like Leonardo di Caprio with a thin moustache trying to look older. For a moment it felt like I was being transported away from the scene and was looking at a head and shoulders shot of him, and I remember thinking that "they" had done a very poor job of casting him, as he didn't look nearly sinister enough for the role.
I sank back into the scene, but this time I was the woman in the dream, married to this man who seemed wonderful to the outside world but I knew to be an inhuman monster. We were dressed similarly to the characters in "Dead Again" (at least I was wearing a white nightdress and was barefoot) as the party faded from view, and we were left alone together. At once he began to threaten me quietly, mocking me for my futile attempts at escape.
He narrated past events to me, and as he did so they came to life once more. He recounted how I had tried to kill him before, to escape the cruel beatings and torture he'd put me through, by stabbing him with a knife.
"But the corpse rose from its resting-place, refusing to be bested," he said, rising, covered in blood, from the white bed where I'd tried to get rid of him.
Overcome with fear, I turned and fled, knowing he meant to kill me. I could feel him following me, and by some weird trick I could also see through his eyes as he followed, clutching at the gaping wound in his stomach and side. There was no gore, only fountains of blood, and soon all the walls were coated with it.
He pursued me relentlessly up onto the third floor of the house, where in desperation I flung myself through the glass door of the balcony and fell onto the concrete below. Spurred on by adrenaline, I picked myself up and ran as far as I could, yet knowing I couldn't escape him.
I took refuge in a large black (or dark-coloured) car, in which an older woman dressed very much in the attire of an English gentlewoman from the country -Wellington boots, tweed coat and trousers- took me in and helped to treat some of my injuries without even questioning why I was in her car. I had never met her before, but I knew she was an ally from the start, because she immediately recognised the signs of mistreatment, and decided to help me because of them.
She also recognised the scars on my arms as being self-inflicted, and tactfully told me that I needn't punish myself any longer for something I hadn't caused to happen.
I was still panting and terrified by then, dreading the moment when my "husband" would appear and finally do me in, but thankfully I was awoken then by my alarm clock and skedaddled off to work instead.
The first dream started out as a kind of garden party that was being hosted in early spring. I know this because it was being held outside but there was still snow on the ground and we were setting up a skating rink which we knew wasn't going to be used because the ice would be too soft.
Still, everyone was in a tizzy because the preparations had all been made last-minute and we had to fetch people from all over the city. I had a car in the dream, although it didn't look like my own car: it was older and looked very much the worse for wear. I remember being very anxious for the entire dream because so many things depended on me.
The main focus for a long time seemed to be calling my friend Martina in Sardinia from my cell phone. I wanted to wish her happy holidays, as I recall, and also perhaps invite her to this function. I remember thinking, when I spoke to her, that her French had greatly improved. She was busy, though, and said she'd have to call me back.
The scene shifted slightly to one of the serving tables at the party where I was working. It was then that I realised that this was a corporate luncheon, and that a lot was on the line here. One of my superiors told me to do something, and I nodded and said I'd get right on it. I finished putting the table together and went to complete the request, but when I got back my current trainer (IRL) was there, and told me to pack my things, that I had been fired because of my "poor attitude and lack of cooperation."
In my dream I became very upset, and begged and pleaded with her to let me stay, that I'd never let such a lapse happen again, but she firmly and coldly informed me that they had a "zero tolerance" policy on these matters and shoved all my papers in my arms, telling me that I could always reapply to work there in 12 months.
I left and walked towards my car (wondering how I was going to make all my payments), trying to balance all my papers. I checked my cell phone and saw that my friend Martina had left five messages and was still trying to reach me, but I was too upset to call her back. Instead I called
firewillow and burst into tears on the phone when she answered. She asked me why I had called her, and I replied "I had no one else to call." I couldn't tell whether she was annoyed or just anxious in the dream, but I eventually had to hang up in order to drive home.The last part of that dream is a bit hazy, but I remember that I was so upset that I took a wrong turn on the way home and ended up driving into two lanes of oncoming traffic and being relieved that my father wasn't there to tell me what a lousy driver I was.
The second dream was actually a nightmare, as opposed to the anxiety-ridden dreams I generally have. They're not usually scary so much as just uncomfortable.
This one also started at a type of outdoor party, where I was a guest. It was in a Great Gatsby-esque setting, in which I was a young man who had been invited to a lavish party given by a well-known and beautiful socialite who was married to a famous actor of sorts.
It seemed that the socialite had not in fact asked permission of her husband to throw this party at his expense, and she merely laughed off everyone's anxious inquiries as to whether he would be upset with her, saying that he couldn't possibly have anything to say to her. She seemed to imply that he was not in a position to reproach her, although no one really knew what she was talking about, as he was generally well-regarded.
As she was saying this, he appeared in the doorway, looking extremely forbidding. Actually (and this is the only funny part of the dream), at that particular moment he looked exactly like Leonardo di Caprio with a thin moustache trying to look older. For a moment it felt like I was being transported away from the scene and was looking at a head and shoulders shot of him, and I remember thinking that "they" had done a very poor job of casting him, as he didn't look nearly sinister enough for the role.
I sank back into the scene, but this time I was the woman in the dream, married to this man who seemed wonderful to the outside world but I knew to be an inhuman monster. We were dressed similarly to the characters in "Dead Again" (at least I was wearing a white nightdress and was barefoot) as the party faded from view, and we were left alone together. At once he began to threaten me quietly, mocking me for my futile attempts at escape.
He narrated past events to me, and as he did so they came to life once more. He recounted how I had tried to kill him before, to escape the cruel beatings and torture he'd put me through, by stabbing him with a knife.
"But the corpse rose from its resting-place, refusing to be bested," he said, rising, covered in blood, from the white bed where I'd tried to get rid of him.
Overcome with fear, I turned and fled, knowing he meant to kill me. I could feel him following me, and by some weird trick I could also see through his eyes as he followed, clutching at the gaping wound in his stomach and side. There was no gore, only fountains of blood, and soon all the walls were coated with it.
He pursued me relentlessly up onto the third floor of the house, where in desperation I flung myself through the glass door of the balcony and fell onto the concrete below. Spurred on by adrenaline, I picked myself up and ran as far as I could, yet knowing I couldn't escape him.
I took refuge in a large black (or dark-coloured) car, in which an older woman dressed very much in the attire of an English gentlewoman from the country -Wellington boots, tweed coat and trousers- took me in and helped to treat some of my injuries without even questioning why I was in her car. I had never met her before, but I knew she was an ally from the start, because she immediately recognised the signs of mistreatment, and decided to help me because of them.
She also recognised the scars on my arms as being self-inflicted, and tactfully told me that I needn't punish myself any longer for something I hadn't caused to happen.
I was still panting and terrified by then, dreading the moment when my "husband" would appear and finally do me in, but thankfully I was awoken then by my alarm clock and skedaddled off to work instead.
