I had this dream last night.  Multi-faceted, complicated, painfully realistic – and ultimately quite depressing.  Taking the three main images in my dream – being hit by a man I’m enamored with, being forced to work through my vacation, and having my personal possessions stolen by a 21-year-old douchebag – I can clearly see the theme of heartbreaking disappointment which ran through each dream sequence.

In relaying the story of dream image numero uno to a co-worker, she offered this insight:

“He is hitting you psychologically, and you can’t escape it.  If he literally hit you, you’d be done with him.”

And I can’t escape it. I can’t escape him – even though it means sacrificing everything I have ever stood for in love and romance and making an utter fool out of myself for all to witness.  I never wait for a man, yet, here I am pining away for over two months with no progress, despite how he claims to be ‘trying’.  Here I am allowing my nights to end at 7 pm or earlier when he has to rush home to his real love.  Here I am, with my heart in shackles, not allowing myself to look elsewhere for something that could actually be mine.

Is it easier this way? Is there a part of me that feels that this is enough for now?  Or could it be that small child inside me who has been brought up to never hope or dream of being worthy of the things which are granted to others?  I am easily slipping into that ‘not-good-enough’ mentality that had been ingrained in my being from my earliest days, when I was taught to accept that those around me would be entitled to the praise, support and love that I, myself, would not be privy to.

Working through vacation.  Once again, the details of that particular dream image were pretty cut and dry – I was asked to work through my two week vacation so that my coworker could take vacation, though she had no vacation time left to use. Again, going back to not feeling good enough.

I can’t help but recall a third-grade experience which has always stood out in my mind as a perfect example of my role in the world:

In my elementary school, we had bus patrols and hall monitors.  Students would be selected on a monthly basis and would get to sport a sweet, orange, official-looking crossing guard belt – and should they happen to be picked for bus patrol, the belt even came with a nifty little badge.  Every kid dreamed of getting his or her chance to do this.

Then came the day I had waited for all year long.  My teacher read my name off of a list, and instructed me to head down to where they were distributing new belts and collecting old ones.  When I returned, triumphantly, with my bus patrol badge and belt, my teacher ensured my joy was short-lived.

“Oh no, dear – I sent you down there because I thought you had already been a bus patrol.  You weren’t supposed to be getting a badge or belt!”

She then made me go back and return my items.  I never got the chance to be a bus patrol or a hall monitor (although every child in class was to get their turn).

As for the third dream symbol, I simply believe that the frustration and anger which had built up  within me throughout the dream needed to be unleashed.  So, upon the discovery of said 21-year-old douchebag stealing my possessions, I made it perfectly clear that beating her ass would be the perfect way to end my day on a much better note.  I’m fairly certain I even quoted George Costanza.

“…and if you think I’m kidding, just try me. Try me. Because I would love it!”

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