Tag Archives: grief

Anxiety Dream on the Anniversary of my Mother’s Death

9 Mar

I dreamed I was a college student. It was the first day…or maybe not…of a class in a room with white tile and that was otherwise white, and in the back corner of the room the wall was covered with school supplies hanging from hooks, and there were clear plastic buckets full of other school supplies, such as markers.

At some point, I think toward the end of the class period, the black male teacher asked us if we needed any supplies ordered. I was somewhat confused about whatever we were learning and didn’t want anyone to know this. I was also worried, because apparently he asked this question about supplies every day, and other students responded, and I didn’t. I had yet to speak in class and was worried about making a bad¬†impression.

I had a long trench coat, like the one I wear now. At the end of class, I was having trouble figuring out if it was the end of class, though the teacher was slowly walking toward the door, and students were rising and donning their coats.

When I stood up, somehow my trench coat ended up lying across a white folding table, and junk, mostly used tissues and maybe cough drops, fell out of my pockets. Some students chuckled. Embarrassed, I scooped up things that fell out, and I tossed them into a small black waste basket. Nobody else was dropping their coats and spilling things; everyone else was graceful and coordinated.

Next, I was outdoors on campus, and it was very sunny, and a few students were standing around talking. I stood going through my pockets. A girl in my class who had short blond hair and clunky black glasses was talking with an older man in a trench coat. This was right at the corner of the building, and the man may have been seated at a cafe table or indoors seated next to a large open window. He was someone she knew.

Fortunately, nobody was paying attention to me while I rummaged through my pockets…well, until I found with my bare hand something sticky and gross in my pocket, something pale, yellow, and oval, like a cough drop, but squishy.¬†Then a boy nearby stopped talking with friends and stared in disgust, as did the girl. I managed to dispose of the cough drop but didn’t know how to remove the stickiness from my hands and stood there giving my right hand a shake, resisting the temptation to wipe it on my clothes, and ultimately using a facial tissue to wipe my hands, so the tissue stuck to my right hand.

The dream involved a lot of feeling stupid and out of place, having no confidence, being very disorganized and confused…while surrounded by people who had it all together and didn’t appear to have these problems.