Injustice Collectors/Money Guilt/Greed/ Anger/Rage and other Fun topics– 8-13-13 520
I know, this is very long, I have got to shorten this one, but it covers a lot of S—! (Stuff)
Car crash in beginning (think it is same dream) a guy was speeding as he took a curve (like Spanish train wreck a couple of weeks ago) – curve is at place where road becomes divided near a high school. The guy loses a leg – just chopped off and hanging, I don’t want to look at the mess, but I feel he deserved it for speeding – he did not deserve mercy. Another person judges me for this as if I should feel pity or sorrow for the person – but I feel justified in my mercilessness – I feel no guilt.
In new library at the University I attended – but everything is rather plush. At first we are on the side of the library where something is taking place on an upper floor – where some offices are. My mother, father, brother and self are present. My mother thinks some kind of crime is going to be committed and wants to stay, I feel we should leave – like we will be caught – I didn’t want to see the reality of whatever it was. I guess we compromised and moved to the other side of the library on the same floor where space was open to see what was going to happen. My brother picks a table for us to sit at, but the table is dirty and sticky. Someone had eaten there and left a sticky substance with a sweet topping that contained a lot of sugar – plus the sun was setting where these tables were and it was blinding me – I did not like the location. (Sun – fear of discovery – bringing light onto things you don’t want people to know) then all of the tables around us were in sun and sticky.
I go to another part of the library on the same floor where the chairs are real plush and in the shade. But some chairs were better than others, so I try to move all the nicer plush chairs to our table. – The guy in charge sees me moving things around and tells me I am not allowed to do that – so I have to push one chair back. Then I was looking around floor, picking stuff up and I found a $20 bill and take it hoping no one will claim it. Then I find a $10 bill folder up as if it had been walked on – dirty – once again I feel like I have to do this secretly. Then another $10 and snatched it up and started to look for more – but wondering how people could have just dropped money and left it there without noticing. Then I see a whole lot of money – thousands in a pile under a chair where some guy (crook or drug dealer) is sleeping. The money is rolled up in yellow writing pad paper – as if they were trying to conceal it but since I was crawling on the ground I was able to see it. And I reached for it and snatched it, then tried to pretend I did not have it.
But I get caught by one of the bad guys – (guy from Titanic – Leonardo DiCaprio) – and he has me down on the ground – he thinks I am a member of some other mob, and I am just trying to convince him I am at the library on vacation with my family and came across the money by accident. He has a pocket knife – and is threatening me with it (it is only the small blade that you would clean your finger nails with – but, I sense grave danger or threat) Then he threatens me with a toothpick – like he will shove it through my ear and into my brain if he finds me to be guilty of belonging to this other gang (from old movie where old lady sticks her hat pins into people’s ears to kill them). Then somehow my innocence is proven because I either do or do not have a grain of sand on the sole of my shoes – I would have been guilty if it turned out the opposite way – but this satisfied him of my innocence.
I am afraid another small time hood thinks I made money on the deal – and I think he will expect his cut. So I take money out of my savings account even though I did not earn any money that he was entitled to. I left it on a table for him – but he knows what I did and gives the money back to me. And lets me know we are friends and he would not take money that was mine if he did not deserve it. – Then I have fantasy within dream about finding 300 million from bad guys in a drug deal – trying to figure out how to hide it. Would I feel guilty if bad guys killed each other when it was actually I who had confiscated the funds – then I felt probably not since they would probably end up killing each other anyway. Then I am walking out a door onto the street with my hood friend.
Movie/TV filming set _ still dreaming but set change
Then the whole scene becomes a movie or TV set – and I (dream ego) am talking about the actors in the show. One actor who got the main parts in this week’s show was the ‘Hostile Self’ (diabolic) – the ‘crazy self’ and I felt sorry for the other actor who didn’t get much of a part, the good self or positive portion of self-care side (two different sides of self) (Which side and who was the silent guy – didn’t really jive with rest of story – but it made sense during the dream – Silent guy (good self) was the son of the guy who played the father (who apparently now had a big part, but was actually silent in the first part of the dream, my father did not speak in the first part– (the good, silent self was good looking/nice guy in the dream who got role because of his connections – father (easy life , taken care of) – outside appearances at least.
Then completely different part of dream where my oldest daughter has some type of connection to a doctor in San Marino – he was a bad doctor – botched operations and he didn’t care – he lived in a section called ‘Nautilus’ that was between two rough sections – where wealthy bad guys hung out. (Baldwin Park – el Monte) he was Indian or Pakistani –
Then we are back in the library and we are starting to leave – but I have too much stuff – younger daughter’s algebra book – brief case, computer. Yellow pads etc. At first I think I can handle it – but I keep finding more and more stuff – meanwhile my family has left – they had their ‘shit’ together – but there is no way that I can carry all of my junk – files and papers keep appearing that I hadn’t seen before when I told everybody I could handle it.
Then someone comes up with a cart (they said they had had 600 more in the basement – apparently that no one ever used) – it was someone from the night cleaning staff that came up with the cart. They were trying to get us out so that they could close the place up. So, I was able to pile up all my stuff and start moving out with the cart.
Psychoanalytic Dream Interpretation:
The car crash in the beginning represents my life being out of control – not paying bills, car is not registered, dream work has been dragging, ergo blog, spending a lot of time looking at women on dating sites. The guy loses his leg, cut off at knees – I am not in good shape both mentally and financially – my legs have been cut off from under me. Plus, my legs are actually in bad shape – I need both knees replaced. The part of me that feels the guy deserved it is the critical part of myself – not forgiving myself for not performing well – even though I used to. I am beating myself up – old tapes (father) playing in my head.
But part of me realizes that there was more than I could handle. My ex-wife had engaged in incest for years with brother, had been raped several times by others, she was cheating on me. Then in custody battle – court doesn’t care about her past – as if it doesn’t affect anything – because it was over ten years ago – therefore these events could no longer be having an effect on her (This is family court, shouldn’t they know about this stuff and it’s long lasting effects?) I thought I had found the perfect mate, then all of a sudden I found out the real story.
My business life crumbled – and I was the top performer for years with my company. The whole past with my father’s rage and violence – I never really established a strong sense of self and I buckled under the pressure. But part of me feels like I should have been able to handle this – but eventually I collapsed. But the part of me that says I should be sorry for the guy in the crash is the side that sees I had been through a lot – and many people would have crumbles under this much stress. (However, in reality most people seem to think I was weak for not being able to handle things – therefore, I feel a great sense of shame.)
Then, I am at the library of the university I attended, and my father, mother and brother were there with me. My mother knows some type of crime is about to be committed. This could be my father’s rage and alcoholism and maybe his sexual perversion. Also, I took my parents to my place of employment when they came to visit me in California 20 some years ago to show them what I did. When we left, my mother asked me who the tall blond guy was at the copy machine –I said that was one of the partner’s sons who had just started working for the company. She said to watch out for him – he had given me a look of distaste or jealousy and she caught it out of the corner of her eye. I said he was a nice guy and I got along with him just fine – over the years everything my mother suspected was right – he was jealous of my talents and the amount of money I made. He spent the last ten years I was there – trying to take my accounts away and trying to make me look incompetent in front of customers and other employees. One of the programmers of the company made the comment – “I had to hunt in the jungle while he hunted in the zoo.”
My family moves to other side of library where we can keep an eye on the crime – and that was all I could do – the company did just about everything that could to hold me down – it would take several pages to go over the games and dirty tricks they played.
My brother picks a table that is dirty – sticky – where somebody had eaten. My brother seemed to be oblivious to my father’s behavior in real life. He did a pretty good job ignoring it and just went along with life on life’s terms, tuning out the messes and crimes. He finished college in 4 years. It took me 5 and a half. But emotionally my brother was somewhat shut down. My mother told me she almost left my dad when we were very young because he had beaten my brother so badly – however I have no recollection of the actual incident. But this type of abuse may have shut my brother down emotionally, so he survived by tuning things out.
The glare of the setting sun off the tables in the library is unbearable to me – perhaps this represents the light shining on what I felt to be my blemishes and foibles, perhaps the family’s negative side also. Therefore, I have to move to shady part of library where I could hide out. In real life I moved from East Coast to California where I would be able to start a new life, free of the old negative self-image I had growing up. Or, at least what I felt was the negative image people had of me.
Easier, softer way – plush chairs and in the shade – I can hide out in California. With so many other crazies out here, I’ll blend in with the crowd. Plush chairs might be me trying to get some of the social security money allotted to my children so I could treat them to things – it is difficult on the small amount I get – but my ex-wife stopped this even though she makes 5 times what I get plus the social security money – which is over and above what I would have to pay in child support. Plus, I had been spending over twelve hundred dollars a month on my children (I only get $2,300 a month) from the money I originally received from social security. I got a two bedroom apartment instead of a single because of my young daughters. Any money I received from this I would have spent on the children and everybody acted like I was trying to line my pockets. My ex-wife is trying to make me look totally impotent in front of the children – she is trying to get back at me for what her brother and other abusive boyfriends did to her in the past and I suspect she is currently engaging in this same type of abusive behavior.
Got off on tangent – sorry – but the guy making me put the one plush chair back might have represented the ‘law’ stopping me from getting any of the social security money for the children. Also, the guy making me put the chairs back could be my father – who did not seem like he wished for me to prosper – because of the negative feelings he had toward money – he was a Republican, but hated and resented people with money – a right winged communist. This was a rather confusing environment to be raised in – contradictory value systems.
I find the $20 and $10s laying on floor in disbelief that people just left it there – this represents my disbelief that most people do not see the value in their dreams – that if remembered and interpreted can act as a catalyst in helping them improve their lives – to change for the better in a long term healthy sense – better at survival in a very complex society. The large wad of money found represents my dreams because I had hoped to turn this into a revenue-generating venture. (However, this did not materialize.) When I found the large wad of cash it was wrapped in yellow paper from legal pads – which it exactly what I write my dreams and interpretations on prior to entering them into the computer.
Fear that the guy sitting on the chair above where the money is found will come after me – this may represent my ex-bosses who wanted what I made (the goose and the golden egg story). Fear if I make a lot of money again, the bad guys will come. Also, could be father image again -c
I get caught by a bad guy (Leonardo de Caprio) – old boss like character trying to make me feel greedy while he is stealing the money. Also, the ‘police in my own head’ – brain police – trying to make me feel bad about earning money – the old tapes continue to play. I am trying to convince the gangster I am not from another gang – I am at the library with my family on vacation. (Vacation? I guess you will say anything when your life is on the line.) Possibly linking my issues with money to my family – father. And I came across the money while I was with them – since my family issues are to source of most of my dreams.
I am threatened by Leonardo with a toothpick and the fingernail cleaner of a pocket knife – which are bullshit weapons, but I am scared as if they were really potent – life threatening. Represents the fear is really in my head – I let simple bogey men stop me from living my life. And I am proven innocent by a grain of sand – once again something that appears small and harmless makes a big difference – ever get a grain of sand in your eye at the beach – it doesn’t seem so small then. So, I prove that the dreams and ideas are my own original work, therefore entitled to the profit they derive.
The path to salvation is narrow and as difficult to walk as a razor’s edge.” – message of the Tibetan monk in The Razor’s Edge.
Perhaps the “grain of sand” is comparable to the message from “The Razor’s Edge” by W. Somerset Maugham where something very small, one way or the other, can make a big difference in life and push you over the side of the mountain – (they were in the Himalayas). Like letting go of my anger and ‘forgiving’, which I find very difficult to do – but in reality is a simple act when compared to the grand scheme of things. Holding onto the anger prevents me from moving forward in life – and I know this – but still have trouble letting it go – which can cause me to fall off the razor’s edge. I haven’t fallen off yet, came close, but have not made it to the other side yet because I have impeded my own progress by holding onto past injustices. If I could let go of the grain of sand, perhaps I could move forward. I am working on it and my anger and rage are beginning to subside.
Viktor Frankl (Man’s Search for Meaning) realized that forgiveness was crucial to being able to finding one’s path in life. Connecting one’s mind with their true spirit requires letting go of resentments and past injustices. This connection allows a person to find their purpose or reason to live, to move forward with their life despite the most difficult of obstacles. He forgave the brutal SS concentration camp guards that had kept him in captivity and murdered millions of his fellow inmates. Dr. Frankl realized this was a necessary step to moving forward in life, with the path being so narrow, one cannot afford to carry one’s resentments and reach salvation or freedom of consciousness in life. And, although I consciously realize that he is correct, I find this an almost impossible task to carry out. The natural side of me wishes to seek revenge.
Also, I am crawling on the ground when I find the stash of money – I am working at the subconscious level (my dreams) – hence on the ground. The dream parallels with my work experience and life in general – starting at the age of 5 at the piano. My conscious mind attacks me for trying to make money – money is bad – greed – I will be killed by this guy (Leonardo) if I am found guilty – but a grain of sand proves my innocence. Catholic upbringing, also, did not help in this matter. My own mind is finally deciding that what I was taught when I was 5 was bullshit – it was coming from an insane person, but I didn’t know that – my father was the war hero, the genius scientist and excellent jazz musician – how could he be wrong.
I feel so disconnected with the value of money and give or let people take away what I really need. I am finally waking up to the fact that I cannot do this. I never balance my check book or invest – I don’t want to think about it or deal with it. I had to pretend that it didn’t really matter. Neither did my father, my mother took care of all the financial stuff, I thought this was the way all families worked and was rather shocked when I discovered the opposite was true for the most part.
There were other reasons, but part of my father’s disdain for money came from being in WWII, he saw firsthand the effects of people wanting other people’s land and money. He fought in three battles and walked through Buchenwald when it was first liberated. His descriptions of it were shocking. My father had many faults, but one thing you could count on – if he said something happened – it was the truth. He would talk about the war and what he saw when he was drunk which was more than occasionally.
The Small Time Hood
The other small time hood that I feel will be looking for money, even though I had not made any yet – is the part of me that always feels I am being cheated by not allowing myself to be successful because of my self-image laid on me when I was 5. Conflict within self over ‘guilt for wanting money’ vs. ‘actually needing money’, ergo, wanting it – coming to grips with fact that these two forces must come to terms –two sides of me represent the conflict within. (Example of Jungian theory – where every character in dream is an aspect of the self.) The agreement between the two forces is made when the greed side (hood) will not accept the money from the guilty side – who dips into his own savings to pay off hood because he suspects the hood thinks he made money and the hood will think he is holding out – and rather than trying to explain – suffers the consequence of what is only going on in his own head. When the ‘hood’ refuses to accept the money, this appears that there has been some type of agreement made within my subconscious to let go of this money ‘hang-up’ issue.
Then I have a fantasy inside the dream where I find $300 million that belongs to the bad guys and am trying to figure out how to steal it – and I figure the bad guys will start to kill themselves because they will blame each other – and the question comes to mind will I feel guilty for their deaths if they kill each other because I stole the money. And I come to the conclusion that they would deserve it anyway (like my old bosses would – the death penalty for cheating me seems reasonable) So, if the meek or nice guy side of me that feels guilt gets in my way this time, he will have to be done away with – I have the ‘green light’ to make all the money I can – hence the hood and myself (two parts of me) are now friends and we walk out of some doorway together. I have a healthier or more realistic sense of money now.
The TV set part of dream
Now, everything that has happened in the dream has been a script for a TV show. I was surprised in dream because I thought the previous parts had been in real time, come to find it had been scripted. But parts in these two segments do not appear to match, but they actually do. The main actor has been my ‘hostile’ self. (In real life, I had recently attacked my ex-father-in-law with an explicative verbal assault and spouted out in front of my young girls that their mother had been raped by their uncle – but they had to be warned because they were allowing the predatory uncle to pick the girls up and tickle them, and believe or not – there was nothing legal I could do about it). I felt sorry for the “good” side of self, who had a small insignificant role in the show (dream). The “good” role is where I spend 99% of my outward appearance – however, I spend at least 50% of my time raging in my head – and when this ‘hostile’ self gets out – I am out of control –what I do is not consciously thought out – I erupt – PTSD. This is why the ‘hostile’ actor gets the main role. I feel sorry because the ‘hostile side’ has ruined the image of the ‘good’ side which is how I want to be perceived. The ‘good guy side’ of me tried to get my ex-wife into therapy ten years before this – but I was ignored.
The actor that had the small part – the silent role – was the son of the guy who played the father on the set – the father now appeared to have had a major role – but in the previous segment of the dream the father did not even appear – except in spirit. However, in real life my father had a big role molding the way that I think and act – I emulate his behavior internally, and occasionally externally – he ‘got’ me this ‘role’ in reality as his son. My father was normally a fairly quiet guy who did not like the spotlight – unless he was playing the piano. However, when his rage was evoked – then he had the whole stage – believe me, no one else wanted to be on it. As a result, I acted out the part of the silent actor my whole life. But in appearance only, inside my head I would rage often. One therapist said my ‘affect’ was off. Meaning that what my facial expressions were showing was not really what was going on inside my head. Inside my head I can be hostile, raging, even murdering – I can easily go into kill mode while having a blank expression on my face. Which is one reason I stuff my emotions – I am not assertive – appear to be docile – I am afraid if I let a little anger out – I will not be able to control it and then there will be violence. And, I do not want the stage in this manner like my father had when he would go bezique. This daimonic force is extremely hard to control.
So, this silent actor was given the part because of his father’s influence in the dream. But it was my father’s efforts that made life somewhat easy for me; therefore his influence got me a role in life. We had a nice home – good educations – it was somewhat easy, especially compared to his – which wasn’t good. I had psychological problems when I was 19 and went to see a psychiatrist/psychoanalyst twice a week. When he was 19, he had psychological problems and was sent to WWII where he was engaged in heavy action with Gen. Patton’s 3rd Army – and believe me – this did not help. The army’s solution to combat fatigue (PSTD) was alcohol and he was really into this solution.
I think he saw my brother and myself as good for nothings – when we left home for college he said “he would not miss us at all – he was glad we were leaving – that we were worthless to him” – he was drunk and my mother was there trying to say he didn’t really mean it – a great sending away present. Yet my brother was a successful accountant and I did well as a salesman making over $100,000 per year at times.
The dream shifted to another theme – My oldest daughter knew this doctor in the dream who had a bad reputation and lived in an area where bad guys hang out – it was between to rougher areas in LA. The area was called ‘Nautilus’ as in Jules Verne. The captain, Nemo, was a kind of bad guy – similar to my boss – he didn’t really care about customers – they were just a means of him getting their money. One of the other employees referred to him as a ‘dog’ and he really did have the mentality of a lower being. Maybe there is part of me is like this – I didn’t care about exposing my ex-wife’s incest in front of the entire neighborhood they lived in, and in front of my children. I feel like I have the right to kill the guy she had an affair with – and that I would feel ‘no guilt’ – I feel no guilt about exposing my ex-wife trauma – I used to be understanding, but she has put me through ‘hell’ and now I do not feel I owe her any mercy – she used my mercy against me – and my rage is ready to come out.
My therapist wants me to look into why I feel no guilt – perhaps it was when my father had his rage attacks there was never an apology – it just got swept under the carpet. There was no justice for me – even when I had done nothing to deserve his wrath. Now there are people who deserve my wrath, and I intend to see that they get it – and I cannot imagine feeling any guilt. I feel so badly abused that I can justify any act or sentence I feel like commuting – it will be ‘just and righteous”. “Vengeance is mine – the hell with the Lord.”
The FBI used the term “injustice collectors” to refer to people who store up all the injustices that have been perpetrated against them – they feel too weak to express their anger when the injustices are being committed – so they store the anger up – and eventually they explode into a violent rage.
Then, at the end of the dream, I am back in the library where we were aware a crime was going to be committed – at least my mother was aware. Everyone is starting to leave and I am trying to pack my stuff up and walk out with them – they seem to have their acts together. But I cannot get myself together – I have a computer, my 12 year old daughter’s math book, and papers – stuff all over the place. Every time I think I just about have everything together, more stuff appears and I cannot carry it all.
My life is in chaos – bills, no job, building website and I really do not know what I am doing, trying to date and look normal – well reading the above would be scary to anybody – so my affect has to be off, no money – LIFE IS A MESS – it seems overwhelming – and the stuff keeps growing. This could, also, represent my dreams (the recorded ones) which are all over the place and disorganized. I am trying to get them together to put my life together – I possibly use the dreams to draw out the rage, anger, fear and other negative feeling out into the light – because to do so on a conscious level is too difficult for me – they are emotions which I do not want to deal with openly – in the light that is too bright in the library and I have to move away. All of the feelings and thoughts within me are scattered and disorganized in my mind – it takes a lot of work to sort the out and try to make sense – to act on them purposefully take a lot of effort. I cannot deal with everything, so I pick the things I feel are important. (Heads up – Keeping the house clean is not one of them.)
Then the cleanup crew comes with a cart to help me get my stuff together. This is my current therapist who is trying to get at my anger and rage and my sense of ‘no guilt’ or remorse for my outbursts – in fact I plan on more (in my mind). There are 600 more carts in the basement of the library – because my therapist keeps coming up with solutions or ways to keep moving forward despite the morass I dwell in – I can’t have excuses – she always has an answer – it looks like she has 600 more solutions ready – and they are always so practical. Part of me wants to get well and be effective – and the other wants revenge. Or, maybe all the carts are going to be necessary to get all the garbage out of my mind and into my dreams. So, don’t any followers worry – there is plenty of material stored in my unconscious memory – I am the Gordian knot of mixed up emotions – hopefully I will not run into any Alexander’s – his solution could be fatal to me. Maybe I can get my revenge done first, and feel no guilt and then recover – a perfect solution.
End of Interpretation and dream.
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