Dreams and Realities

Almost every night I have this oh-so-vivid dreams and in them I'm writing a story of some kind. It seems like they, the dreams, are almost telling me what to do. I dream about my childhood, my teen years. I dream about old friendships long past their prime. 

Last week, specifically, I was driving around Chester on the streets that I grew up on.  I can't remember who was in the car with me, but he or she gave me wrong directions and I ended up sitting outside the Taylor house.  I went to school with the two oldest girls. One was a year ahead and one a year behind.  We lost track of one another early into teen years. Probably when I started high school.   Anyway, I digress, we were in a car that wasn't mine, but I was driving and we were sitting in front of this large brown house. You could see that there is a pool from the street, but not into the pool due to the large privacy fence.  None of this detail matters, it is just to point out how very vivid this part was.   So my stranger friend checks the directions and we determine we need to move on and find the right house. As we drive away I stare back at it through the rear-view mirror.  

That's all I remember of that dream. I know that all sounds like a big ol' snoozefest. But I can't help wondering if the imaginary friends in my imaginary car sitting in front of real life old friends at their real life old houses where I spent so much of my adolescence means something.  

The truth of the matter is, the once thriving social circle of supportive loved ones has withered away to a few friends playing ring-ring-around-the-Jennifer, to keep me supported.  I'm sure they're tiring of my neediness ,I am tired of my neediness.  But they listen and support just as I would if they needed it.  

So back to the dreams... If I were to attempt to dissect my own neurosis, I would wonder if these dreams were telling me I need to make changes.  Stagnation is good for no one.  I am in a place where I all I can do is stand here. Wait here.  Stay behind the yellow line and take a number to be the next up to play "Get a Life." 

A "friend" recently told me that, while she knows I am a good person, I am in a "Downward Spiral" (and she doesn't want part of that, but that's not what this is about.)  But she's wrong, dead wrong. I'm not spiraling anywhere. I'm standing still. My feet are concrete. I can't move if I tried. I have to chip away the lead legs first and the only way to do that is figure out which direction I need to go.