After 20 Years Clean, I Traced the Problem to it’s Roots, Now What?

Being on a fixed income in a 1970 Mobile Home is a pain in the winter. It got real cold in late December, and the water pipes froze. I got a buddy that’s good at that stuff (he’s also the off and on significant other of my off and on Female roomate, so there is a drama factor here), if you can get him to come and he fixed it all up except he left the line to the washer capped and the money situation mandated that. So it’s Jamuary 29. 2009, I can use the Kitchen and bathroom with hot and cold but the washer is still down. So what does that have to do with tracing the problem too it’s roots? Well, dreams are abstract and I evidently went back in my dream world to Mom and Dad‘s house where I lived before the run of (and during off and on, but this was before using in the abstract dream world)) I was sharing (or complaining or rationalizing or something) how every thing was OK except it would be nice to wash some clothes. In this abstract Dream world she has her own wash machine right there in the mismash dream world juxtaposition of real world environments. Here’s where the problems begin.

She begins to explain how to use this washer, and I can tell is bad news, and in one case towards the end of her last washer before the nursing home it was true. You need to measure out everything in exact amounts and stand by it the entire time variously standing on your head and bowing to Mecca at various intervals in the process to prevent certain problems. Let alone not mixing various materials and colors and oh my God the solution just exceeded the problem as it always seems to with her. Bless her heart, she can’t do this anymore, she’s in a nursing home and becoming more and more innocent and childlike. But this is dreamtime and I’m eternally 18 and she is at the height of her powers. I’m emotionally shutting down, wondering why I had to open my big mouth and I don’t want to forget it and let her do it for me, I just want to go back to the emotional state before I said anything about doing some laundry.

Then I open my mouth and in a dream I assert what my problem is and my preferred solution and it’s bad and has never changed. I said I don’t want to solve my problem, I just want to get away from everyone and everything! Her face freezes in a slightly shocked but MA preschool trained look that says you’re gonna have to go to the shrink now and talk about all this (I’ve been there for years and years and it didn’t hurt but I’m still me and I still respond the same way in similar situations.

Procrastination is my #1 character defect, and the obvious was to accept whatever input I was given and do some laundry by the book (head standing, Mecca bowing and all), but the emotional trauma of the interaction was so much worse than the problem in my mind and this emotional reality is real even in dreamtime. These fears of loss of control and helplessness are extremely damaging in other social situations, but I have repeatedly found that less drama and more quiet assist in feeling the Divine and silencing the wheels and tapes that play in my brain. I can tell, good mental health (or temporary spiritual fitness if you will) are especially evidenced in being able to read (a form of human interaction I would assert) and retain and enjoy what you read, it’s a mental health thermometer and barometer. But most people I know seem to need far more contact than I and it is probably traced to their relationships with their mothers and I was this way before using and was like it while using and was restored to it after stopping using. What a dream I need to examine it some more and see what I come up with, it was really profound and right on the money. In the meantime, I need to look into the fixing of the wash machine and do it without too much drama one way or another ( I’m gonna find ya, I’m gonna gitcha gitcha gitcha), and there is unfortunately much more drama in this simple thing than is apparent to anyone else.

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