Tuesday, February 28, 2006, 11:45 AM - nightmares
What I get really tired of is being haunted by someone who's not even dead! I still get nightmares about my father (I won't call him "dad" because that would imply an endearment that does not exist.)
In this dream, my father owned a *huge* mansion. I was some kind of servant in his household. My current task was hauling in the groceries and putting them away. I did so under my father's glowering stare.
One of the items was a bag of expensive mints. I opened the bag and emptied it into a silver bowl he used for holding candy.
Well... my father saw the empty candy bag and accused me of eating all the mints. I pointed at the tray and said, "no, they're in this bowl".
He responded by turning purple with rage and screaming, "You thief! You worthless, fat, son of a bi***"
I tried to explain that I really had just refilled the candy dish, but he wouldn't listen. He followed up with calling me a bastard, a faggot, and stupid. He claimed that I was too stupid to do *anything* right, no matter how simple the task. He screamed that my life would amount to nothing.
I left the mansion in disgrace -- even though I had done nothing wrong.
Outside, it was raining and growing dark. I had the motorcycle I owned back in high school still parked outside. I started it up and found that the headlight had burned out. I didn't care. I drove away in the gloom.
The dream ended.
The thing that sucked is that interactions like that happened in real life ALL THE TIME between my father and I. He would fly into a rage and hurl every demeaning curse he could think of at me. It didn't matter if, later on, it turned out that I was right and he was wrong. He never apologized for a single thing in his life.
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( 3.1 / 1314 )Sunday, February 12, 2006, 01:52 PM - nightmares
The nightmare I had last night was a real doozie. It didn't involve my dad, at least, so that was a plus. But the vision was pretty bad nonetheless.
In this dream, there was this underground complex where people whould be abducted to and tortured to death. It sometimes took the victims days to die at the hands of their tormentors. The victims were all hooked up to wires and sensors of some kind, which, in turn, were connected to a bank of computers. The torturers wore white smocks and hid their faces behind white cloth masks so that one could only see their eyes. The tormentors had dark eyes -- none of blue or green, but instead were all black or dark grey.
It seemed that the purpose of the so-called experiment was to somehow collect the energy of the psychic imprint generated when someone dies badly. This energy was stored, augmented, and focused into some kind of weapon.
Beneath and to the right of the torture rooms, a single human subject was restrained to an observation table. He was also covered with sensor wires. It seemed that the purpose of the tormentor's experiment was to put the combined psychic imprint of dozens of bad deaths into the mind of this one single person -- just to see what would happen. They theorized that the influx of remembered pain and suffering would be a potent weapon that could drive the recipient into madness and suicide. The target, in this case, would fully experience what it was like to die in agony and fear -- over and over again, and concurrently.
Imagine what it must be like to feel another's death-pain. But also experience that kind of fear, betrayal, and hopelessness magnified a dozen times at once.
It was a pretty bad dream.
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( 3 / 1796 )Sunday, February 12, 2006, 01:34 PM - nightmares
One of the curses of my life is the fact that my dreams -- even to this day -- are ruled by darkness and horrors. Sometimes my father (the chief abuser in my life) is the main character in my nightmares, but other times the nightmares have other, dismal themes.
I don't think of my father too often during my waking hours, but at night it seems hard to escape him. It's like I'm being hauinted by an angry, hateful ghost -- but the abuser is still ALIVE! I just don't get it.
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