Strange Dreams I've Had

I'm married to WhatsHisName. We have a daughter and several other children who I can't see as clearly. It's their first day of school. She is about seven or eight. She sits down in her chair to receive her back-to-school blessing. Her father puts his hands on her head, and then invites me to do so. It seems to be very normal. We both put our hands on her head. He speaks first and then I speak my part. Because it's a dream there is light around us, and my hair ( which also looks fabulous because it's a dream. he he he) is kind of floating. After the blessing our daughter shoots up, grabs her backpack and runs to the bus. We are still there, though, our hands still clasped together, just looking at each other. I think we kiss after that, with the shadowy children still running around. We are still surrounded by light.



I am standing looking imploringly up at a man. I've had this dream several times and the man is interchangeable with a variety of past boyfriends, male acquaintances and male relatives. I am trying to explain something to him. I am imploring him to understand me. He looks at me with a sort of confused pity. He doesn't' understand me. My head only goes up to his chest and his arms are strong. I start getting worked up and frustrated that he doesn't understand me. I try to back away but he's holding me too tight and I can't. I start to panic and I'm in hysterics. He doesn't understand me. The words and meaning just bounce off his rock hard chest. His expressions look confused and annoyed and pitying. I can't get away, no matter how hard I try. I am crying and screaming and I'm beating at him with my fists. He holds me tighter. I start to claw at him with my fingernails. I'm getting worked up. I'm in a hysterical panic. He doesn't understand and he won't let me go. (*I'm actually getting worked up into hysterics just thinking about this dream. It's really scary, just emotionally.*) For some reason, in the dream it makes sense that the meaning of my words has to get inside him and that it doesn't. Somehow there is a knife in my hand. I start to hack away at the man. He is no longer a man. He isn't screaming. He just keeps standing there holding me. I keep hacking in a delirium, until I'm covered with guts and blood and I've hacked him completely open and down. He's just a pile of meat now. I'm covered in blood and holding a knife. It's not evil looking. It is stange that the sight of that image in my mind fills me with joy and releif. I'm free and the message got through. I then walk away, confident and triumphant, covered with blood. I step over the body. In some versions of the dream I spit on the body as I pass. It's weird because I don't like gore. I never watch violent television and I am a sympathetic humanist. It just feels so good.

I think the first one represents positive creative animus and the second represents negative destructive animus. Both are inside me. I cannot seek them in other people.