My dreams have become nightmares lately — and I don’t know why.
Both of my dead parents showed up in dreams last night. My father was trying to manipulate me. My mother was abandoning me. It’s as though both were playing the ugly roles I expected from them.
It was as though something in me was using their departed images to taunt me — as though something was pointing an accusing finger and saying, “See? Nobody really loves you. You don’t deserve to be loved.”
There was even a basketball game later in the dream at which I was turning blue — and I felt shame at people seeing me like this when I had come to see a woman — but I’ll start with my parents.
For some of us, loss of trust is a deep existential threat to heart
Without things to look forward to, the human heart gets ready to die
A year later, my father’s death looms large, but I have no regrets
Being loved is one of life’s gifts, but joy of loving is even greater