Dreams (Jim)

Dreams 01/12/2006

Saturday, I went to CODA and during check-in I said, ‘Hi, I’m Jim and I’m co-dependent, and I feel great but I’m not sure I believe it, at all.’ The whole room cracked up. Five minutes later, I leapt up and fled the room. A whole bucket of phlegm was pouring down my throat, my eyes were watering, and I couldn’t breathe. I ran out into the hall and hacked and hacked. I had to get outside, breathe and cough deeply. Then it was over. I blew my nose and felt great.

I mention it because it seems like a physical prelude of now. I write and tell everyone, like I told CODA, how wonderful everything is and it seems so, but then I have bad dream after bad dream and just want to sleep. I’m irritable, tired and driven at work and home. So I sleep and exercise a lot.

Here’s the dreams...


The Shaft 01/10/2006

My young son has just came in the door from school, with a black eye, he says from a pool stick. As he closes the door, I see on it behind him, a picture of a bloody pool stick butt and him with his black eye. So I know it’s intentional, a warning for me to not to try to get out of the mafia, or my family will pay.

We have a pool table, so I talk my son into playing, watching his reaction as I hand him the stick. There is none and I’m relieved. So far he’s still innocent, untraumatized, he doesn’t know the ramifications, but I do. It must stay so. I’ll play the game so there’s no more trouble for my kid.


The Bottomless Pit 01/11/2006

At work I’m on the fork lift, carrying two bundles of plywood, so that I can’t see in front of me, as I drive. I take them down a ramp, that reminds me of the manure pit at the dairy farm, I worked at as a kid, where we collected it all as we scraped the lot each morning, before spreading the shit on the fields. As I near the end of the lot and begin to set the lumber down, I hear co-workers behind it, shrieking for me to stop. I panic and drive on another twenty or thirty feet and then drop a bucket attached to the fork, accidentally, down a bottomless hole, but stop in time to not fall in myself.

A meeting is called to discuss me. A co-worker asks me what I was feeling - I tell her it was none of her damn business, that I don’t answer to her. My boss puts me on restriction, saying they have to be wary with me, when I’m so tired, for my own and everyone’s protection.


Okay I’ll Jump (For the Thrill of It) 01/12/2006

I step out of my shower and notice a chunky black man in my linen closet. I assume it’s the maid, but I don’t have one, so I follow him to the kitchen, where a company party is beginning. I ask, who invited them, since this is a private residence. They laugh me off.

I head out for lunch myself, to meet up with a coworker, but first swing past Piedmont Park. The trees are unnaturally clipped and flattened on top and huge dung piles surround the trails leading into the park. Street people and sex desperados crowd the trails. In a meeting building I talk with a hospice worker, and try to join in with them as we head across the park. Someone hits a ball my way though and calls me to throw it back. I throw like a sissy and it only goes half way, hits something, and rolls back to me. I throw it pathetically again, shrug and leave, but now I’ve lost my acquantances.

Still trying to fit in, I take up the challenge to hang onto two strings and digging my heels in, ski back across the park. I think I’m a hero now, like some stunt rider. I’m heading right towards the meeting building and picking up speed. The strings go right through the wall. I don’t let go though. I jump into the air and hit the building with both feet. I’m unscathed, and damn proud of myself, only no one’s noticed. No one’s noticed.