What Does It All Mean?

Recurrent dreams are common.  But what do they mean?  Have I asked this before?

Sleep was absolutely awful.  Being awake from 3:30 to 8:00 is getting old.  On the other hand, it’s the morning dreams I remember most.  Lately, those dreams are about schools and hospitals.  I’ve been too lazy to document most of them in recent days, but today’s recall is still fresh in my brain.

The first bit was about going back to school.  A financial advisor, who was also the dean of admissions at the college I was visiting, was reviewing my past work history, and suggested I get a 4 year degree of some sort.  When we started discussing classes, and I told her which ones I’d like to take, she said I needed to do the prerequisite classes first.

“But, but, I have an associates in mathematics and science.  And… and I even took statistics as an elective!”  I hate crying in my dreams.  And boy did I cry when she magically made my old transcript appear – and my husband!  When the hell did he arrive?!?!   Kevin looked so disappointed in me when he discovered that I failed calculus based physics, and discreet math (3 fucking times).

A blubbering explanation about how I wasn’t born with logic didn’t matter.  I wasn’t allowed into the program of my choice.  But then I started to feel sick, and something clicked.  “All my former co-workers and family insist I should’ve gone to school to be a doctor.  But I hate school!  I can’t DO 10 years of fucking school.  I’ll LOSE MY GODDAMNED MIND!!!


But then something else clicked in my dream, and I remembered a few friends who work from home.  And then I asked my advisor if I qualify for a certificate program.  “Sure.  But you need to start all over again.  Your diploma doesn’t transfer.”

“Okay, okay.  It’s only 900 hours of classroom time for 9 months anyways.  I guess I’ll live.  But why do I feel sick?”

And then Kevin was rushing me to the hospital (in my dream), because I had a sudden sharp pain in my side.  I really need to stop eating popcorn.

After I was discharged with enema instructions, I was wheeled down to the hospital lobby, where I waited while Kevin brought our brand new 4×4 around.  I wasn’t allowed to walk for some reason.

Then I discovered that my shirt and shoes were missing.  I was literally sitting in the hospital lobby wearing nothing but hospital scrubs, my socks, and a bra.

And when Kevin found out, he took off in the truck to go get me some clothes from home.  Then I was crying again because I thought he left me at the hospital.

Enough crying.  Time to wake up.  I love when I can subconsciously wake myself up.  I rarely need to do it, but somehow I have that ability.

Finally, I know why I have these dreams.  How does one let go of the past?  Is there a book I can read?  My new health insurance sucks, and doesn’t cover counseling.  If anything should be free, or at least discounted, is mental health care.  …… and I won’t continue with reasons why, because this is a dream entry.


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