I finally worked up the nerve to look it up: Dreams of Abandonment. Says here "The scars of the trauma never fade. Often dreams of abandonment persist
throughout adulthood."
So I found myself once again in that particular type of dream; the type in which someone says "Come along, I know this place, I know these people",
then all too quickly that person is nowhere to be found, and you're there in a strange place among strange people, and all you really want is to be
back home. Then the procession of bewildering encounters and extreme situations. The dreams don't come to any happy ending, they just sort of fade,
leaving that sinking feeling that this is just the way it will continue forever.
There I was, age about 24, with this awesome dream motorcycle, basically a desert racer with just enough add ons to be street legal: headlight,
tail-light, mirrors, horn, and licence plate; all small enough to not interfere much or add much weight.
My companion in this dream had a similarly designed bike of his own. It was his idea that we drive those hundreds of miles to go to an annual desert
bike rally. He said he'd been there before, knew some people. So I went along.
The rally itself was at an undisclosed location on account of there being no official permits for land use, so everyone was to stop at a certain
nearby town for further directions.
In the town we spotted a 1 1/2 ton stake-bed in the drive way of a house being loaded up with desert bikes. [ wavy transition here. I went somewhere
like to get a hot dog from a vendor or go to the bathroom or some other thing ]. When I got back, my bike was gone. My knowledgeable companion was
gone. My backpack was gone. The truck was gone. I asked the people at the house where the truck had gone. "No. No truck ever here" was the
response.
I just didn't want to be there; not like this. No stomach for bewildering encounters and extreme situations. I remembered how it went in my last dream
of this sort, the gun fight in the alleyway with some gang over some misidentification.
I was standing by the side of the highway, just about to stick my thumb out when I decided: Nope, not gonna do it. I'll just wake up now, quickest way
back home.
It strikes me as odd that real life is so much easier for me to navigate than these dreams are. I can give a real life story that is similar to these
dreams but actually worked out just fine.
I was on my way to my former place of employment to pick up my final pay check. I'd walked out two weeks earlier. I had my backpack with me as I
stopped in at the Delirium, a tavern that I had frequented while living and working in that town. It was afternoon, not a busy time. There was only
this one girl customer throwing darts a bit, then sitting down to drink beer, then getting up to throw darts again. She seemed somewhat distraught, so
I sat down at her table.
Eventually she told her story. Her demented mother was on home-health care and the nursing assistant who was scheduled for evening shift had
cancelled. She was just hoping and praying that something would happen.
"Well" I told her "It just so happens that I am a certified nursing assistant with experience in dementia care. I can use some money too."
So we worked out the details. She would wait for me in the Delirium while I walked over to pick up that pay check and cash it at the bank across the
street. Then she would drive me out to her mother's place for introductions, and then if her mother agreed, then I'd take the evening shift.
The house was way out of town, about 15 miles or so. Luckily, I paid attention to the route. The girl's brother was there too, along with her mother,
so we did all the introductions and her mother was agreeable. When the time for shift to begin, brother and sister took off in his car. They came back
about an hour later with cash for me, then took off again.
Had a nice evening with the mother; stories, poems, some songs, helped her into bed. Then the mid-night shift showed up. They were wondering if I
wanted to call for a cab or something because the girl who drove me out there had not returned. "Nah," I said, "I'm flush with cash and there's
nowhere I need to be at any particular time." So I picked up my backpack and headed back toward town.
It was a lovely night, just a little bit of fog. When I got close to town it was still too early to knock on a friend's door, so I got out my blanket
and tarp, wrapped up and laid down under a nice tree and had myself a good dreamless sleep.
- The End -
edit on 6-8-2021 by pthena because: (no reason given)