What can I do / When she’s calling my name / She’s crying Mama, Help me to live

I am a huge fan of psychodynamic and interpersonal modalities of therapy, which have their roots in psychoanalysis. However, I’m not really big on the idea of the subconscious as an entity with any power. I think subconscious drives are kind of irrelevant, and subconscious thoughts are not much more than things that can be retrieved if we need to retrieve them.

However, I do think that things need to be cleared from the “ready to be retrieved” pile in the brain.  I had a lot of dreams last night, and although I don’t have an interpretation of them, I do feel that my brain is dumping things out. Spring cleaning, maybe?

The dream that stood out the most was about a dog.

I was outside in the housing development in which I lived from the age of two until I finished college.  I witnessed a dog getting hit by a car and yelping in pain.  The car that hit him (or her, I don’t know) sped off, and I started to formulate the plan for getting him to a doctor in case he could be saved.

Then I either don’t remember what happened for a day or more, or it fast-forwarded to another day.  I hadn’t taken the dog to the doctor; I think I had decided that he was okay, or maybe he ran away from me and I gave up.

I was talking to a guy, and he was clearly flirting with me.  I don’t remember what he said, but he was not flirting in a sexual way, but also not with the kind of witty banter that I eventually tire of because I’m so disinterested in competition.  I just knew he liked me, and I was happy about it.  Then, as her drove away, he hit the dog.  The same thing happened, but he stopped and came to look at the dog.

I wanted to get him to the doctor and then notify the owners.  The dog seemed fine, though, and the guy told me that this happens all of the time.  The owners just let the dog out, the dog runs around and gets hit by a car, and the owners keep letting him roam.  It was just a matter of which time would kill the dog, and there was nothing we could do to prevent that.

I woke up before I either carried out my plan to get the dog checked out or decided to let what was going to happen take its course, but I think I was leaning toward the latter.

You could interpret the dog as symbolic of a number of things, but I’m not sure how much I even believe in dream interpretation. I certainly don’t believe in my ability to accurately interpret a dream (although the top two candidates, in case you’re curious are “acceptance of my divorce” and “I’m too depressed to even think I had a shot at what might make me happy,” both themes I gleaned from the last few weeks of therapy, which hasn’t been particularly productive for me). I do believe there’s a “meaning” to a dream that I remember the next morning into the next night, though.

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