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5.12.11
I was at some kind of therapy centre, which I had stayed at early on in a long journey I was going on. We had an Art class where we produced some kind of artistic expression of how we were feeling. I did a painting of a dark churchyard garden with graves, with an old tree in it and a door in the middle of the garden leading to an even darker place. The therapist told us to pack up as we had to go home before we could take the journey any further. I felt very upset. Everyone else was packed up, but I was running behind as I had put so much time into my painting. I was frantically trying to pack clothes and food in a cold eski , but I couldn't make everything fit in. Some of the clothes were little girl dresses and some of them were my clothes and I tried to stuff them in as best I could. The food was not very nutritious for the journey home - it was my mother's Christmas mince pies. I was becoming distressed because I couldn't fit everything into the eski. My mother was standing back watching me unsympathetically. She had a really good quality travel bag which had plenty of room in it. I looked at her pleadingly to help me by taking some of my things in her bag, but she just stood back and watched me coldly. She told me that she had already checked her bag at the airport as she was going on a holiday, and she she didn't want to go back to get her bag in order to help me. Then a teenage girl came over to me who was the daughter of one of the therapists at the therapy centre, and she gave me my painting back to take with me. She told me she had made some alterations to my painting to make it look better. I saw that she had painted five images of the man in the moon, who was smiling happily, on top of the dark parts of my painting. The painting looked much better with what she had painted on top of my painting, but it didn't feel like mine anymore, and it didn't express how I was feeling.
I was at some kind of therapy centre, which I had stayed at early on in a long journey I was going on. We had an Art class where we produced some kind of artistic expression of how we were feeling. I did a painting of a dark churchyard garden with graves, with an old tree in it and a door in the middle of the garden leading to an even darker place. The therapist told us to pack up as we had to go home before we could take the journey any further. I felt very upset. Everyone else was packed up, but I was running behind as I had put so much time into my painting. I was frantically trying to pack clothes and food in a cold eski , but I couldn't make everything fit in. Some of the clothes were little girl dresses and some of them were my clothes and I tried to stuff them in as best I could. The food was not very nutritious for the journey home - it was my mother's Christmas mince pies. I was becoming distressed because I couldn't fit everything into the eski. My mother was standing back watching me unsympathetically. She had a really good quality travel bag which had plenty of room in it. I looked at her pleadingly to help me by taking some of my things in her bag, but she just stood back and watched me coldly. She told me that she had already checked her bag at the airport as she was going on a holiday, and she she didn't want to go back to get her bag in order to help me. Then a teenage girl came over to me who was the daughter of one of the therapists at the therapy centre, and she gave me my painting back to take with me. She told me she had made some alterations to my painting to make it look better. I saw that she had painted five images of the man in the moon, who was smiling happily, on top of the dark parts of my painting. The painting looked much better with what she had painted on top of my painting, but it didn't feel like mine anymore, and it didn't express how I was feeling.
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2 Comments On This Entry
wow, sounds like your dreams can be as detailed as mine sometimes are. It sounds like a disturbing dream, I'm sorry that it interrupted what would have been a peaceful night. Are you taking a break from therapy?(title) If so it seems like you have a lot of anxiety about it, like you feel you're being pushed out just when you're making leeway and the only help you're getting is more sugar coating than anything. But I really am not qualified to make these guesses. I really hope that you'll share this with someone qualified to give advice and that you find the answers that you need and that you'll be able to sleep. I'm sorry it's a struggle but keep up the fight, again I'm unqualified, but, it seems like you're making steps in the right direction. Be safe friend, peace. 
tweb,
05 December 2011 - 11:05 AM
Thanks tweb. I had an awesome session where we worked on the meaning of this dream. I think it's about me trying to pack up my little girl feelings in order t manage them over the break, while my teenage self wants to make the pain of the break look not as bad as it feels. Meanwhile my fear is that my therapist (mother) will look on unsympathetically and not help me to contain everything in this eski (cold). I feel like I am not being left with any warmth over the break. My therapist is actually very warm, and it was helpful interpreting the dream. 
HiddenPoet,
05 December 2011 - 11:56 PM
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