There were two dream scenes I remembered.
In the first, I’m at work. Elizabeth says something which prompts me to ask her whether she still meditates while intoxicated, and she says yes. I then explain to her how when you initially begin meditating your thoughts seem to get louder because you are paying more attention to them, but then they mellow out if you keep doing it for awhile. I tell her this is why I began and then stopped my meditation practice a few weeks back. My mood the following day was horrible, I remember, and my self-loathing ran deep.
In the second scene, I start yelling at mom viciously, saying how I will never get married, as if I am trying to hurt her by saying this. Then I add that if I ever have kids I’m not going to treat them how she treated me.
I woke up feeling angry that I’m evidently still this angry at my mother. She has changed since she retired; it was as if a fist within her was suddenly released. I thought I had gotten over this, grown out of it, and I’m embarrassed to still find it hiding within me.
