I know what happens when my antidepressant du jour stops working (usually after a year or so): all the very vivid, symbolic dreams heavily come crashing back again. I love them - I do! They give me both story ideas AND now that I understand symbolism and how to study them, fill me in. Don't worry! I know by now that not taking my meds 'just' for the dreams is - literally - crazy-making: I'm otherwise not too good in functioning .... Early this a.m., I had a heavily symbolic dream in which I woke up crying from its content, and I wanted to record it :
I was in the mall - I was working, but not in a store - in an office. I was all dressed-up. My father was supposed to pick me up from work. I was waiting and WAITING. Where the heck IS he?!
I took off my shoes and started walking around in my pantyhose. Naturally, inside the mall, my hose got dirty ... and then when I started walking out in the parking lot looking for him, the nylon shredded and tore and my feet got cut and bloody ...
I turned a corner and there was a large picnic table of Jewish people: they were speaking Yiddish, laughing, eating that good rye bread ... and in the midst of them was - my very Catholic father. "Hey, doll!" he grinned. "They made me an honorary Jew! Whoa, what a good time we're having here!"
And as much as I wanted to go home with my Daddy ... I knew he was having such a good time, so - I left him with his new friends and went on walking, even with exposed, cut, and bleeding feet ....
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