Dreams: August 5, 1997

frustration turns me into a hooker

I'm at a meeting. Everyone here is about my age. It's bothering me because they don't seem very respectful of the program, nor are they willing to listen to other people. I'm getting more and more frustrated. Finally I just have to leave -- the other girls are annoying me too much.
I stand up and walk toward the door. They all look back at me. There is a group of girls at the door. They have questioning looks on their faces. I stop to tell one how bothered I am by her disrespectful antics. Then I realize that it's Janelle. She has a tan face and long, straight, light-brown hair. I don't want to go through the process of reintroducing myself and the small talk. I quickly turn around and leave, hoping she didn't recognize me.
Then I'm walking up a long, steep trail. Bushes are on both sides, while the actual path is sand. It's very sunny. I'm glad to be getting a little exercise, thinking about how it will help me lose weight.
Then I'm back at Mom's house. I walk through the hallway and see that someone else is in my room, along with a bunch of stuff. I walk down to Phoebe's room and see that I've been moved in to share it with her. The hallway and rooms have pink wall-to-wall carpeting.
The shelves in Phoebe's room have two TVs, my stereo and and old stereo. All our stuff is intermingled. I'm mad, confused and frustrated. Jollana now lives in my old room. My CD player is making a REALLY loud vibrating sound, as if the CD that I'm trying to play is caught on something; it starts really rattling, as loud as a jackhammer. I don't do anything to fix it, hoping someone else will notice. Nobody is paying attention to me. I'm upset, but nobody in the house seems to care.
I go wander through the house looking for Mom. I finally see her through a doorway. I am wearing an ugly, knee-length nightgown/sackdress. I stand there motionless. I'm trying to put a pitiful look on my face (semi-subconsciously), hoping it will show Mom how upset I am. But then I can't help but smile a little bit when I see how beautiful Mom's hair is.
She's bending over, combing out her wet hair. She straightens up quickly, and I see that her hair is long, wavy and red. It is drying from her shower. She doesn't even seem to notice me. She's getting ready for work, only wearing a dark bra, underwear and stockings. I realize that she works as a stripper in some nightclub.
I'm angry and disgusted. I walk out. Suddenly I'm on a city street. I'm wearing high heels now. I decide I'll show Mom -- I'll join her in her own field. I am going to walk the streets for money. Then, as I cross the street, I realize that I don't even have to be dependent on Mom anymore. I think about how I can sell the big TV and use the money to move away. I'll find my own place in the world.


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