Skip to content

Dream: 11.5.15

November 7, 2015

I was in a classroom setting where both me and the teacher were “Ms. Gonzalez”. KK was bereft from the recent death of her inseparable friend, EZ. I cried with her. I said I’d had friendships where I didn’t know where I stopped and the other person began. That they’d all ended . . . badly. That it was hard to know why to go on without them.

Later, the two of us went to the memorial service.

I headed right for the food table, but couldn’t figure out what I could eat that wouldn’t make my headache worse.

I shared a package of cookies with 2 kids.

+++

NOTES:

I had a migraine the day before, that night, and into the next day, which is probably why the reference to a headache.

I’ve never known anyone named “Ms. Gonzalez”.

KK is a classmate I had in junior high and high school. She did seem to be part of a large friend group, despite getting good grades. Teachers said she was smart, but to me, she seemed more like someone who knew how to please teachers and worked hard; that is, she wasn’t naturally brilliant.

She organized the 20th reunion of my high school class.

EZ is a real person that I also attended school with, but I don’t now recall if she was in KK’s friend group or not.

= = =

The food table thing reminds me of something that actually happened at my 20th high school reunion. The food was good, and was a nice distraction from the surreality of being at a second high school reunion where almost everyone I talked to clearly had 0 recollection of me. I did talk to a couple of women, while I was getting my food, about my graduate school thesis on slime molds. They had no idea what I was talking about, which — for once — was enjoyable. Maybe because I didn’t remember them either? Not sure.

= = =

Interacting with 2 kids, in dreams 2 nights in a row, is weird.

= = =

I think some of my subpersonas are … reorganizing? Changing?

Maybe some of them have been enmeshed with each other. And now they’re disentangling…

I definitely feel upheaval in (what I think of as) my inner life’s tectonic plates. Things are being shaken up, unsettling.

Advertisements
No comments yet

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: