I remember a lot of my dreams. I love to wake up, reach for my dream analysis book (it was a gift (: ) and do the Jungian deep dive on what it all means. Certain themes are recurring. Late to the airport. Lost luggage. I'm at a former job feeling like a fish out of water. I'm interacting with long-gone friends, the ones I lost after my divorce. I failed and they bailed.
I also have eerily prescient dreams. The one a couple weeks ago, for example, where I'm in a car accident with a client and the next day my fiancé was in an accident (he's fine). Or the one where my then friend called me crying about her mother and the next day her mother was diagnosed with ovarian cancer. Or the one where my daughter is attacked by a lion and the next day she was bullied at school by an upperclass alpha girl. You get the drift.
My therapist (young, PhD, hip) is keenly interested in my dreams, especially those prominently featuring the lost friends (one of whom my fiancé likes to refer to as "emotionally constipated"), lo all these years later. Often I'm trying to communicate with them, through plexiglass from the backseat of a cab or from a cell with bars, and they can't or won't hear me.
She recommended that I watch this video: #sorryifiletyoudown
Her theory is that I have not processed the loss/es because there was no closure. She wants me to let them go. To do so, she gave me homework that I probably should have done a long time ago. "Grief journaling" involves writing three positive and three negative things about each person, along with an "unsent anger letter."
"Develop composite characters if you need to," she counseled.
Not a problem.
Working title: "It's Personal" or "The A Word." Necessarily fiction.