Tag Archives: dream meaning

Dropping Tears of Rage to the Floor

My dream starts off in a dim cafeteria that only has small windows towards the top of the double story ceiling to provide any light; I’m volunteering through hannaford by servicing people in need when I hear a familiar voice “I wanna see carol, I miss her so much.” I’d recognize that pouty voice anywhere since I served her for almost 3 years as her team leader. I come rushing around the corner and give becky a huge hug and begin cry my eyes out with her on her shoulder, saying I’m sorry over and over again. Danielle, my supervisor at hannafords, looks on fondly.

Later I run into my former boss Sarah, and ask her how I can help out. She hands me a box of gift cards to be stocked from local stores and restaurants, mostly from outback steak house. I dropped the box as I’m walking away and they all spread across the floor; the box is no longer usable. I organize the cards in piles and pick them back up, and drop them again, but they remain mostly in the piles I put them in. I put them away and look to the back of the room… That’s when I see her… Gina. She now drops something and I go over to help her pick it up. She doesnt know I’m here and doesn’t make eye contact, so in my generosity there’s a spiteful “fuck you I’m nice” element. “Kill them with kindness” comes to mind.

“Oh im so glad you guys are here. The work you all do is wonderful; you guys should come work for us” she says with a faux simper.

“Sorry, but I already did that once before, and I’ll never do it again.”

She finally looks at me and I’m beaming at her. She’s stunned, and I continue on holding on to my power and a slow simmering rage towards her to exert my dominance, tell her how much I love my job now, and how much it’s a shame that I’ll never work for such a terrible employer again. Gina struggles to find a snarky comment, and I leave before she gets the chance.

This time I’ve given a clothing donation to take care of,  but to my horror my dirty shirt and 2 pairs of underwear are among them! I’m trying desperately to conceal them by wrapping them up in a bundle, but they keep falling out and the stack gets bigger and heavier. Gina walks by and snarks “you should be more careful next time” with a smirk on her face. I ignore her and make it sound as if I can’t hear her. I brush it off and pick myself back up, not wanting to be phased.

In the next row I hear someone say “oh look, it’s carol Simpson! Oh, never mind, you’re too tall! Ha ha ha” when I look I see Ellen had said that to Bee in gest as a way of making fun of me. “Oh fuck you” I scream at the top of my lungs, but no one hears me or cares in a room crawling with people. I storm off and try to center myself.

I’m outside and near a body of water I think, but before me buried in sand is a bunch of stones – onyx, hemetite, jasper, sun stone, moon stone… And these are all mine! They’re from my bedroom! My brother Jim is nearby, and where he’s stolen from me before I furiously storm up and confront him. “DID YOU TAKE MY STONES” I screm at full force. Jim can’t take ownership of what he’s done, and mom and big Jim are now standing to my left. “Just tell her you did it” mom says, since jims face is now twisted with embarrassment and guilt. He says he did, and I launch into a speech asking him why he feels it’s okay to treat me like shit and disrespecting me through my belongings, but most importantly those are healing stones, and he tried to sabotage my ability to heal in stealing them.

Just then my mother snarks “ironic isn’t it; now you know how I feel.” She was referring to when I was 14 I had stolen from her, but when I tried to explain to her that was different cause little jim is now an adult, big Jim (his dad) steps in and says something, but I don’t remember what it was. I know I threw my hand up in a “stop” gesture, and told him I didn’t give a shit what someone as abusive and negligent as him has to say; what I do know is that I was seething with rage.

Suddenly there’s a restaurant dining room connected too the home kitchen I’m standing in, and I’m screaming at mom and Jim, but they don’t care and disregard me as crazy and irrational with a whole restaurant of people judging me silently and taking my moms side. I felt like telling people off in that moment and defending myself as not crazy, but I chose to ignore them instead, pretending the kitchen is a barrier that keeps me safe from the crowd of diners. Little Jim never apologized, and I don’t recover all my stones from the beach; there was one in particular that has gone missing and I start contemplating making Jim pay me back or just buy me a new one.


It’s all political

I was in a dream…. a group oriented dream. It started off with me needing to get an answer to something when I get pulled into the random room doing…. nothing. Just waiting. At first I think it’s going to be a product review, of which we do get to review a few items and eat a few snacks in between, but some slobbish mother with kids hanging off of her is not monitoring them, and ones lying on the desk in front of me (about 2 or 3 years old), one is nursing, and one looks just old enough to be able to listen… less than 5 really. I know all these kids are mixed ethnicities, and she herself is white, tall (5’7), overweight, and poorly groomed/from the projects. Still, these kids were crowding my food and stealing tastes where I would catch them. The kid on the desk in front of me had cream cheese from a bagel in his mouth, then dessert… the nursing kid was taking bites of banana or something. Throughout this whole process, the mother doesn’t bother to discipline her child, but will just say sorry and let them continue.

Eventually I get up and leave, and after demoing the products, I’m waiting for the reward. When nothing happens, I get up and wander, only to be pulled into a different and abundantly spacious room with more pencils and slide shows, looking to judge or educate or whatever. I sit with some familiar faces from the last room and wait… looking at the slide show (the mother is gone by this point). But then it happens again. I get up and leave, make it outside, then get escorted into a different room with some of the same people and wait. There’s not point. There’s no purpose. I can’t figure it out.

I remember I was outside again walking on top of a concrete wall at night and looking at the ocean roll in over some beach with a real sense of wanderlust developing within, when security makes me come down, brings me in, and now I’m in a different room but with some level of purpose. To the right of this massive power point is a woman on a podium. She’s not a teacher, but a judge. Were going over politics now for some kind of rubbish when to the end on the right is a woman who discussess the impact of the judges wishes. I get an uneasy feeling and begin to disagree. Suddenly I hear a voice, and my minds eye suddenly pans right and zooms in on a woman who’s in her mid 40’s, purple hair, african american, and she has this wicked grin on her face…. just lurking with evil intent. Suddenly my alarm is blazing and I’m lifted from my dream wondering what the fuck that whole thing was about.

Dream Analysis Part 2: Role Playing Adventurer

All of this is a reference to Dream Analysis Part 1: Role Playing Adventurer, and my dream entitled Role Playing Adventurer. If you wish to get a better understanding of what I’m talking about, start with the dream, and come back to this.


In the beginning I recognize I’m a heroine collecting perks, upgrades, treasures, and various other items and powers that relate to improving myself. As a hero, I am in control of the adventure of my story. The treasures and upgrades are items that reflect the good in me, or things I wish to improve upon for the better. Again, because I’m an adventurer, this starts off a journey of accomplishments and improvements into the soul. I remember before I was in the frozen wasteland I was adventuring in this amazing green mountain, but didn’t put it in my dream because thats all I could remember, so I felt it wasn’t worth writing down. Everything I collect in this dream is a reflection of wholeness.

From here I’m in the frozen wasteland with very few houses around. This means that emotionally I’ve come to a cold place in my world; perhaps another opportunity or area in my world that needs growth, forgiveness, and insight, but hasn’t happened yet. Because it’s a frozen landscape the ice contributes to this area of my world in which I haven’t grown because it illustrates my own stubbornness to move, or possibly how brittle I am. It shows that somewhere in my world I feel helpless and bleak – all of this suggesting that the reason I’m in this world is because I haven’t made the journey to progress forward. Furthermore the wall of ice I see before me enhances the message in telling me that this inability to move possibly has something to do with my belief systems, attitudes, and/or boundaries I restrict myself too. The wall is supposed to be a protection against fear. The wall of ice itself is white, and so is the majority of the landscape. Personally I have no fear of hospitals or death as it would portray to the color white, so I must assume then that when it comes to a white frozen wall, white is symbolic of spirituality. I’m emotionally stuck in my spiritual life, and the core values contained therein. This is the stage of my dream.

Now in real life this is extremely accurate as I wrestle with who I am and how I identify as a Christian, but moreover, a Seventh-day Adventist. Also, there are a couple of “demons” I wrestle with from the past and that part of my life. I want to go back, but I’m afraid to for many reasons.

Climbing up the wall I remember my siblings being there, but particularly Jamie, my younger brother. I wasn’t going to climb the wall because he couldn’t make the climb, but I did anyway. Once I got up part way to a cliff I looked down which triggered my fear of heights. I want to get down, but can’t.

My brother represents a denied part of me; at this point I’m going to assume it has to do with the Christian side of me which touched on every boundary of my moral code of being, but I have long since denied. In climbing upward I had to leave Jamie, a denied part of me- the Christian me- behind. This created a sense of guilt. This guilt can be two-fold. Perhaps this guilt correlates to people I’ve left behind in leaving the church, or perhaps the conflicts I feel between science and faith. Maybe in becoming a psychologist I’ve denied myself whatever opportunities could have come my way as a member of the church. Maybe upon looking down from the cliff at my Christian self I am claiming a sense of superiority in my education. None of this I am certain, merely speculation at this point. In real life I do however, feel a burden towards the people I let down, especially Verna Emerson. I also feel conflicted in my core values between science and religion. I’m also always looking to justify myself when I reject one and believe the other where the two worlds collide and cannot meet. I may be Christian, but masturbation is not a sin in my book – and I support homosexuals in their choice of lovers. I’d rather be held responsible before God because I allowed others to live their own lives rather than be condemned because someone gay was cutting themselves or crying as a result of something I said or did against them – or worse, I’m responsible for their suicide. Christ never put anyone down in that way, and overall it defies the moral image he portrayed….. “Thou shall not judge.” In the end I just don’t know. I feel split between two worlds – two people, and no balance; always ready for a fight because I believe something different then what the church taught, and how I see the messages of the bible. This is a triad of confusion for me. This may have something to do with the next part then when I head into battle. I know as a Christian I was puffed up, judgmental, and critical of the outside world. Now, I’m on the outside being judgmental towards people within the church by analyzing them with my education, recognizing the incredible amount of low self-esteem the place both breeds and contains. Getting into a “thank you war” is a perfect example. This is my own fault and I know I am wrong for being so harsh and judgmental towards Christianity and the people who follow more closely than I do… but perhaps this is really a reflection of how harsh and judgmental I am towards myself and where I stand on both sides of the fence. This may just be the first time where I catch myself looking inwards by seeing what I project outwards.

For the next part of the dream I came down off the cliff because three wolves appeared. I kicked one, slashed one with the sword, and sent another one flying somehow. I don’t remember how I did it, but I know it had to do with some kind of internal force of power. At the end I felt like a hero, and was really happy for many reasons; the epic jump to overcome my heights, my bravery to attack before they had a chance to touch me or anyone, and my loot thereafter.

The wolves themselves are actually fear reincarnate. They were a triggered physical manifestation to what I was feeling. However, I did feel a sense of pride in overcoming my fear. What I’m confused about is why I needed to come off the cliff and head down in the first place. Why didn’t I keep climbing up that wall? I feel as if overcoming my fear of heights may not be the only element of pride I felt in destroying my fears…. But what else could it be? What is it that I really overcame in that dream. Coming off the cliff of superiority and gaining an essence of humility? In truth I had been working very hard in my moral code of ethics, and humility is one of them. I’m not as judgemental as I use to be. In being defensive and looking to justify myself, I’ve learned how to better communicate who I am and why I feel and think certain things, but the hidden benefit has also been to understand why I felt the way I use to, and why they (the church) feel the way they do now when it comes to what they uphold and believe. I’ve practiced a new element of empathy. It was the backbone to the ministry of Jesus. I’m not as harsh and judgmental as I was, but I still am. Faith versus critical thinking is hard to balance, as is the concept of being in the world – not of the world – versus isolated from the world. Thats what happened. I isolated myself into the church to maintain a deeper level of conformity. I just can’t do that anymore.

Anywho, back to the story. I killed the wolves and was proud to overcome my fear. The sword itself contains multiple meanings because (ironically) the handle of the sword is a cross – a symbolic religious icon. In wielding a weapon in general I turned against myself, but what? Also, the sword represents social power, justice, and transcending strength. Perhaps this is the judgmental element I’m slowly overcoming in learning to accept others for who they are, Christian or otherwise? Even better, this is me learning how to accept myself, Christian or otherwise? I’m purging myself of my less-than-perfect tendencies in killing my fear with a sword. Justice could also refer to the fact that I feel the need to defend myself so much, that my defense is my justice – education. Moving on there was also a gained ability for defeating the wolves, it was a treasure of some kind. Treasure represents the riches of my wholeness – the wonder, wisdom, or value of life. Something I gained as a result of overcoming personal difficulty, such as self-realization or wholeness – wholeness being defined as balancing dry intellectual achievement with deep love, or an introverted personality with outward activity, etc.. Perhaps in knowing my weaknesses better I’ve gained a valuable treasure? What bothers me is the power I obtained was another weapon of ice. Thus far ice has been a bad thing – but white as well.  Also, the weapon wasn’t for my hands, it was for my feet – something I wore over my shoes. Shoes are the image or impression I present to others in my travel throughout life (work, accomplishment, etc.). Perhaps it’s my ability to condemn myself for my conflicting moral values, and how I present myself to others because of it. Hell, I keep 2 facebooks – one for my “christian” me, and one for my secular me. Hardcore athiests and people who can take a dirty joke versus the other extreme. No balance.

Next I know the hoarker/walrus from skyrim emerges from the frozen waters while everyone is praising me. I scream at my sister to run as it emerges, telling her it’s her fault if we all die because I had to save her. She’s holding me back and I don’t want her to get hurt – nor myself. I want to save us all. My brother was there to back me up for the fight, but once the whole thing emerged and stood towering over me, I froze for two seconds, screamed “run,” and took off for the house

Walrus was not a definition I could find, and the ones online didn’t make any sense. Instead I changed it to “monster” which seems okay for the dream, but I’m still uncertain. Anyway, my sister represented an part of myself that is lesser or vulnerable. I felt as if I needed to protect “myself” in this case, but I was hesitant – afraid to move as my sister emotionally. I have no idea what this part of me could be. Perhaps its just who I use to be? Damn… this is such a key element to my dream. I wish I knew what part of me my sister is supposed to represent. Then the monster came. It’s my internal emotions or drives I’m frightened of; dread of death; a monstrous deed done or lie lived; negative relationship with my life energy. I bet you there’s a correlation between my sister in the dream and the monster, but what? Maybe I’m living a lie because of my inability to be who I am – both religious and scientist? Feeling like I have to pick a side? Damn I wish I knew.. then I – “we” took off running. Running away from something is me emotionally trying to run from whatever bad emotions the hoarker/walrus represents. The hoarker came after us, and what started off as a two-story monster shrunk while I had my back turned and managed to get inside. Being attacked by an animal is a representation of introverting ones own aggression, fear of ones own natural urges; anxiety about aggression in oneself or other people; feeling attacked by an external person. The house itself serves as a response to social pressures and criticisms. The house was old looking on the outside, new on the inside. Old beliefs and attitudes are represented by old houses. To dream of a new house represents a new era of your life. The house itself is the transition of the old into the new – as well as the blending of the two. The walrus shrunk, and whatever it’s supposed to be has becoming less threatening or playing a less important part in my life; are seen as connected with the unconscious, aspects  of which often are seen as of “little” significance, yet are  full of the sort of power that motivates or undermines our resolve. Crap. I really wish I could figure this thing out.

Then the monster shrunk, and got into the livingroom where is stayed and lost it’s power and ability to be threatening. I took refuge in the kitchen.

“To dream that you are in the living room indicates how you are as a person and how others perceive the way you live. It is suggestive of your principles and beliefs.”

So whatever the hoarker represents has become less threatening in my world, and as a result of perhaps, learning to be myself is killing the monster within me.

“Creativity; nourishing oneself; mother role, diet. May also refer to pride in the ability to create a home and contribute something valuable to the family. To dream of seeing a kitchen represents a need to nurture your spiritual life.”

So perhaps the link or message in this is that if I better understand myself and nurture my emotional/spiritual needs, whatever it is that troubles me will no longer have/is no longer a threat. The last element I haven’t figured out was when I kicked the walrus and I lost my power – it didn’t hurt it. The ice was gone – and so was the impact of the ice; the ability to be frigid within the livingroom.

Perhaps this a dream simply telling me I’m on the right track?

I hope so.