The Dream

Last night I had a dream. Or more of a nightmare. You decide. For those of you who like to analyze these things, this should be interesting. I had a dream that I lived in an R.V. It was one of those huge, rockstar kindof R.V.s. My husband was not very adept at driving it. When we would pull in somewhere to park, mothers with their children would run, screaming to get out of the way. We pull in to a small town and park. We seem to be living there. I talk to a strange man who says he cannot stop hurting people. He grabs them, throws some sort of dirt or gravel on them, he burns them with cigarettes, it is disturbing, but not life threatening. I assume since I am talking to him, he decides to bother me. He rides up to our R.V. on a horse that is pulling a wagon. The wagon has something in it which is covered by a large brown blanket or tarp. It seems unimportant to me. He bursts into my house and takes a birthday cake, lit candles and all, that I have made for one of my kids. It is chocolate. I don't know if that matters. Anyway, I am screaming at him, "what are you doing?" but he ignores me and walks out of the house, or R.V. I am talking on the phone with neighbors who are being tormented by this man. In particular, the neighbor boy who is about the same age as my boys (around 15 years old). I tell him to let me know if this man bothers him again. This seems to upset the man. It doesn't enrage him, or even anger him, he doesn't show any emotion really, just flat affect to everything. Anyway, he rides up to my house again. I tell my boys to lock the doors. My boy tells me he can't because the deadlocks have been removed. I run to a door (there are a lot of normal house doors on this R.V. about 5 or 6), in fact the deadlock has been removed. I run to the kitchen to gather up butter knives to stick in the door jams (a trick my mother taught me which is very effective). Frantically, I am trying to secure the R.V. Before I can get it done, he is at the door. Suddenly, all of the doors and windows burst open as if he is supernatural or something. He walks into the house, I am screaming at him to get out! He walks out another door and goes to the neighbors house. I am following him the whole time yelling at him, he continues to ignore me and walk like Michael Myers in Halloween. He snatches up the neighbor boy and puts him in a shopping cart. The boy is yelling for me to help him (now why a teenage boy doesn't just jump out of the shopping cart, I have no idea). The man continues walking with the boy in the cart into a parking lot which is surrounded by small shops and people, kind of like the State fair. He grabs the boy's head and slowly twists it around 360 degrees, killing him. I am screaming "Somebody help me! Call the police!", but no one seems to notice or care. The man starts to walk away. I am chasing him still screaming "Call the police!" when my husband wakes me up. My own analysis of this dream is that of late, I am feeling very helpless. Those of you in my profession whether you be counselors, therapists, social workers, psychologists, etc. I am sure can relate to me. One of my first clients is a known escape artist. He has spent his entire life since age 11 in jail or prison. He doesn't understand why. At this point, prison feels like home to him because he knows nothing else. He is an old man now. This old man has a heart of gold, he wants nothing more than to do the right thing. A prison program called "Freedom Challenge" is sending him to Seminary college when he gets out. He has listened to and helped, a lot of inmates. But, don't be fooled. This man has seen and done things that are so traumatic that I don't understand how he functions. During his intake, he asked me, "Do you think I'm gonna make it this time?" I told him I couldn't answer that question. His face haunted me at night, the pain in his eyes, searching for my reassurance that I just couldn't give him. I felt useless, unable to tell this man yes or no. Recently I was talking with him and I asked, "Do you remember what you asked me during your intake?", and he said, "yes". I said, "What do you feel like now?" He said, "I'm gonna make it this time". He told me that I was a wise woman, wise beyond my years, that I seemed to have all of the answers. I told him, "I don't have the answers, you do. I just repeat them to you in a way that makes sense to you". His face lit up, and tears welled in his eyes. He said, "God Bless you, Ms. Libertee, I will always remember you". This Monday I have to remove several clients. Their criminality is so severe that they are crippling those who really want to change. I am struggling with this. All of them have been through so much in their lives that prison seems like an obvious conclusion. Sometimes, I hate my job. Right now it is Counselor 1, inmates 60.