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horrible dream
Wednesday, 5 July 2006 02:41 pmLast night I had a long, vivid and very detailed dream which featured my wedding to the Ex-Boyfriend From Hell, the one who I finally and traumatically ditched for multiple infidelity when I was 22. I can only think the sudden descent into wedding dream hell has been sparked by jo&stv's ploy of attempting to cure my Comedy Hiccup attacks by inventing ever more baroque grooms for me, but this one, frankly, sucked.
It was a small, personal wedding, taking place for some reason at my grandmother's house in Harare (and why are most of my dreams currently set in Zim? My subconscious badly needs a larger location budget), with no more than about 30 friends and family rushing around making food and stuff. I wore black and burgundy. Or possibly green. And was really thin, which is, in fact, a reasonably accurate representation of the EBFH period.
I also spent the entire dream with the heavy, lowering sense that this was wrong, wrong, wrong, to the point where I finally told my mother I couldn't do this and ran madly off down the road rather than face the consequences, leaving her to break the news to everyone. (The groom, I may, add, barely featured and spent most of the dream ignoring me, which was clearly part of the problem. This dream currently about #3 on the all-time ranking of Dreams Which Have Made Me Feel Desperately Alone).
While clearly terrified flight was absolutely the correct response in the circumstances, I woke up feeling guilty and traumatised. I still feel guilty, and somewhat depressed. I have this mad need to apologise to everyone for allowing things to get to that point in the first place; for being a runaway bride, for wasting all the food and wedding presents and what have you, and for not having the courage to announce it myself*. Sorry, everyone.
(Not the Ex-Boyfriend From Hell, naturally. He deserved everything he got).
* this is probably Symbolic.
It was a small, personal wedding, taking place for some reason at my grandmother's house in Harare (and why are most of my dreams currently set in Zim? My subconscious badly needs a larger location budget), with no more than about 30 friends and family rushing around making food and stuff. I wore black and burgundy. Or possibly green. And was really thin, which is, in fact, a reasonably accurate representation of the EBFH period.
I also spent the entire dream with the heavy, lowering sense that this was wrong, wrong, wrong, to the point where I finally told my mother I couldn't do this and ran madly off down the road rather than face the consequences, leaving her to break the news to everyone. (The groom, I may, add, barely featured and spent most of the dream ignoring me, which was clearly part of the problem. This dream currently about #3 on the all-time ranking of Dreams Which Have Made Me Feel Desperately Alone).
While clearly terrified flight was absolutely the correct response in the circumstances, I woke up feeling guilty and traumatised. I still feel guilty, and somewhat depressed. I have this mad need to apologise to everyone for allowing things to get to that point in the first place; for being a runaway bride, for wasting all the food and wedding presents and what have you, and for not having the courage to announce it myself*. Sorry, everyone.
(Not the Ex-Boyfriend From Hell, naturally. He deserved everything he got).
* this is probably Symbolic.
