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Posted

The Dream:

 

I was at a car-boot sale that appeared to be selling firearms, in the car park of a big red-brick building (similar layout to the tarmac playground of my first primary school). On the opposite side of the tarmac from the building there was a fairly big tree. I was climbing the tree with an unidentified friend and my step-father, but as we started to make some progress up the tree my mother started calling from down below. She was calling for my step-father to stop climbing the tree and to return to her, I think she was angry or irritated. My step-father followed her orders and I was disappointed that he didn't continue with what I assumed was an enjoyable activity for him.

 

Later I was walking around with the unidentified friend, looking to get a small, concealable pistol; there were a few guns on offer at the various stalls, but most of what was for sale was useless, bulky, nondescript stuff. After a while I saw one that looked the right size, but when I picked it up it became a huge, bulky piece of metal so I didn't buy it. The part that faced me as I picked it up looked exactly like the defective part of an engine that I've been working on recently (it's part of a project that's been underway for a while, but I've had a stream of financial and mechanical difficulties). Towards the end of the dream there was a higher, more distant third-person perspective: the building was on the right, the tree was on the left, and there was a gate in the foreground that I watched my friend and myself walk towards as we left.

 

Background Information:

 

I was raised by a single mother in England and didn't know my father (although I did meet him and my half-sister a few years ago), she met my step-father when I was five and they married when I was eight. My step-father has taught me a lot about science and logic (he's a geophysicist), but has always been completely whipped by my mother (his father is in a similar situation with his controlling mother). My mother has always been dictatorial, manipulative, fear-mongering, guilt-mongering, hypocritical, dismissive, verbally abusive and (when I was very young) occasionally physically abusive. I once started hitting her during an argument when I was young (possibly around five or six) and I don't think there was any physical abuse after that, although I was distraught and guilt-ridden after hitting her.

 

I recently decided to stop seeing my mother and have moved out of the house, which is a bit more difficult than it sounds because we live in Brazil and I don't have a lot of language or local knowledge. My parents moved here a couple of years ago due to my step-father's job (we've moved country a lot since they got married) and I moved here to teach English about a year ago (my mother's suggestion, as I was unhappy with my job in the UK). Luckily I have a Scottish friend who lives nearby so I have a place to stay that's close to where I work; I also have a fiancee here with whom I have a wonderful relationship (she shares my thoughts on peaceful parenting and we're looking to have a child).

 

My step-father and I had a few conversations about the situation; he agreed with my arguments around reciprocity, but there was a short-circuit near the end when I got to the conclusions ("but she's your mother and we have to try and work things out"). I described what I felt about my mother's physical abuse towards me using the 'beating up a guy in a wheelchair' analogy, which he was surprised by, said he had never seen or heard about it. I remember the disciplinary violence was only done when I was alone with my mother and as my step-father was away with his job a lot there's a good chance he's being honest about his ignorance. After that conversation his attitude changed considerably; he's helping me with rent at my new place and has stopped asking me to resolve things with my mother while helping me avoid contact with her.

 

My Analysis:

 

Despite this drama, I'm happier than I've even been. Public school was a hell of violence and cruelty; boarding school was a more refined hell where I was forced to live with my tormentors; home was a pit of guilt and fear; university was a confusing mess of drug abuse and self-loathing. I think the tree I was climbing in the dream was the tree of knowledge, an escape from the cruelty of the playground and the bullying of my mother. I wish my step-father could climb it with me and escape too, but his leash won't stretch that far and that makes me very sad. He's taught me so much about logic but can't use it to help himself; he hears the commands of my mother and heels without question. I wonder if the gun I'm trying to find is the argument I need to set him free, but I can't find one that'll do the job. Maybe it's the argument I want to find to set everyone free; it needs to be concealable so I don't attract unwanted attention, but it needs to be powerful enough to liberate me and the people I love. Maybe I need to just leave the playground like I do at the end of the dream and leave him behind. I'm crying just thinking about it.

  • 1 month later...
Posted

Yea, I mostly agree about the thing with your mother where he had to come down from the tree because your mother. However I don't know what is going on with the third person prespective at the end a little research told me that third person perspective in a dream could mean here- "Sometimes, though not always, this can point to feelings or situations which are not being felt or experienced (i.e. ‘you’ are ‘removed’ from the scene)" ([/font]http://www.dreams.ca/interpretation.htm)

I don't have any idea what that friend is about however with the gun, well you were originally going to by something that you could arm yourself secretly, almost like you were trying to still be around threatening things and did not want those things knowing you could pretect yourself for whatever reason. Than when you tried to look around you found most of that crap was junk and something that you thought was right was when you actually started to play with it you realized it was shit. Maybe that is your subconcious showing how you were looking for ways to deal with your situation and pretect yourself and what you thought would do it (this project) is really failing at helping you with your protection. 

Just some thoughts from an extream amateur, I hope it helps!

Posted

That's interesting; if the third-person 'leaving the playground' metaphor was about giving up on trying to save my dad, then it was definitely something I wasn't feeling or experiencing at the time. Since then I have 'left the playground' and I have accepted that my dad isn't the kind of person I want around me.

Your explanation of the gun metaphor is congruent with my recent feelings. I've now realised that there is no weapon to combat the irrationality of my parents or to convince my dad to wake up. I'm keeping him at a distance now and feeling much less anxious for it.

Thanks for the feedback Jeff, much appreciated! :)

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