Another Dream Post and this one has Daddy Issues

5 Sep

So, I was holding off on writing about this but I thought since I am honest about all other things, I may as well put this out there.
On Saturday night I had a dream about my dad – To get you up to speed, my dad and I do not speak and our relationship is pretty rough. I was in my childhood house on Ellicott Road in our Kitchen.

10955 Ellicott Rd, Philadelphia, PA 19154

Our Kitchen had this really cool nook behind the fridge where we kept the trash and the booze. I used to be able to sit on this little counter and I would play play play. So I am in my kitchen and I am acutely aware that there is a zombie outbreak going on in the world. Also to get you up to speed – I LOVE ZOMBIES. I think it is a great genre of horror as well as its very social economic commentary on the world and commercialism (Dawn of the dead, stuck in a mall HELLO).

And No I do not own those garden gnomes but I would like to, Tyler is against them.

 

So I am aware that there is a zombie outbreak and my dad comes from home work (but I am a grown women at this point still playing in my little kitchen nook, I barely fit but I am still listening to Q102 on my boombox). My dad, in reality, would come home from work around 3:30/4:00 and go upstairs and take a nap. When dinner was ready he would come for dinner in his blue bathrobe.  Back to the dream, so my dad comes in, grunts alittle, starts to go upstairs but decides to come to the kitchen. I grab a knife. I know he is infected or about to turn or whatever you want to call it… He comes into the kitchen and staggers alittle. But its my dad. He doesn’t look like a zombie but he is displaying zombie qualities. I stab him before he gets a chance to hurt me. I stab him in his work clothes (button down shirt, belt and slacks, smelling of cigarettes and freshly brushed teeth). With a kitchen knife. Four Times. Then I run out of the house.

 

Paging Freud… Paging Dr. Freud… We have a patient with severe daddy issues causing someone to bleed out.

 

So that was my dream. I woke up, told Ty I had a bad dream and he said “EHHHH”.  To say I was alittle freaked out is a mild term. I was really freaked out. Like Majorly Freaked. I rarely dream about my father. I have never dreamed about killing my father. I shake it off, lay wide awake for a bit and then just toss it aside.

 

Fast forward to Sunday evening. I am Trolling on Facebook and my father posts something. HE NEVER POSTS. His post is “Happy 60th Birthday Roseanne”. My Mom turned 60 (sorry mom, you look very good and do not even look 50!) on Saturday the 1st of September and my mothers name, like my name…. Does not have an “E”.  So my mom and him were married for like 16 years or something… and this man does not know how to spell his Ex wifes name?  ALSO – way to go Dad, you married a younger woman, Bravo.  So I am tempted to write something back as a comment, Tyler tells me not to, but I do anyway.

 

I wrote “Day Late and Spelled her name wrong, maybe that’s why the marriage didn’t last”.

 

I Know I know, I shouldn’t have written anything. I should have just left things. But I couldn’t. Don’t be a Dick Dad. I then troll his Facebook Page and see that a cousin writes “thank you for the lovely wedding gift, sorry that you couldn’t make it but I understand it is a very long way for you to travel”. Funny, I didn’t even get a card (without any money would have been seriously fine) or a phone call on my wedding day. I am not bitter. No… I am not bitter that I got the shittest dad ever. I mean, I love my father, I do. I love my father that I sent the link to our wedding photos that he never responded to.  I do. Really people, I love my father.

 

I wonder if my dream had anything to do with his little comment. Did I know my dad was going to be a douche bag in some way? Because seriously, my dad does not post anything. I think Kay, my step mom, got him a Facebook account so that she could indicate who she was married to. I think my dad and I both were thinking about my mom and some cosmic thing brought my dream and his asshole-i-ness together.

 

And you know what, I should not have written anything on Facebook. I should block my Stepmom and my Dad completely. But I dont. I dont because I hope that they one day may go “Oh she got married” or “Oh your kid (if we have said kid) is beautiful”. I know I shouldnt hold my breath. I have a better chance of winning the Million Bucks in the Lottery than I do that.

 

But I already did win the lottery. I won the Lottery with Tyler. I know that Tyler is going to be an amazing family man. He is already a wonderful husband. So maybe I should take comfort in knowing that I am here, where I am supposed to be, because of my mom and dad and not dwell on a broken relationship. I will try not to kill my father in anymore of my dreams.

 

Anyone want to analyze that dream for me?

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