My older brother is spiralling out of control. He has been for a while, but my parents keep picking him back up again. Which is more than mildly annoying to me, the youngest in the family, because without trying too hard I can tote up about $40,000 they've given him not only this year, but for at least the past twelve years. (Before that it was about 100K per year.) That rankles after a decade or so.
I had a dream a few years ago with a prologue. Never had one of those before. There was this whole back story to the dream, which only existed IN the dream, which I became aware of as I was walking up the front steps to my parents' house. Last night I had an epilogue dream. I'm getting a little too invested in this thing!
I have a younger sister named Georgie (Completely false in real life. No sisters, just the older brother) whom my parents dote on. Georgie has broken into my house, stolen a watch, and then lost it by flushing it down a toilet while she was drunk at a party. She has called me asking for money so that she can replace my watch. When I didn't give the money to her, she called my parents to complain. They are angry at me for not giving Georgie the opportunity to make good on her bad behavior and have asked me to come to the house.
I can't find my mother in the house, so I wander into the back yard. There I see a cute Victorian cedar shingled playhouse. The trim is painted grey and yellow, and the red cedar is unweathered. It's adorable. There are bird baths and a pebbled path and a cottage garden all around this. (Very unlike my mother's backyard in real life, but representative of her over the top doll house decorating.) I go into the playhouse to discover that this is where my mother is housing her bird feeder collection (which also exists only in the dream). There are metal ones, wooden ones which look like houses, wooden ones which look like birch logs, plastic ones which look like birdhouses. It's chaos. They are all hanging in clumps and at different levels. You can't even see the back wall of the house.
As I walk further into the house, I keep turning corners and bumping into the lower half of Dutch doors. There are walls which spring up out of nowhere, and I still can't really figure out how big the room is or even how many rooms there are. It's like a garden center gone insane. I keep hearing my mother's voice; she's arguing with me about my ill treatment of Dear Georgie. Why did I lend her the watch when I knew she would lose it?
"But I didn't!! She broke into my house!"
"Why didn't you hide the watch if it meant so much to you? Poor Georgie. She's so careless. It's so like her to lose something while in the bathroom."
"SHE WAS DRUNK!"
And I still can't find my mother to actually confront her face to face.
After I had the dream I went over it in some detail with my therapist, who was completely delighted that I had imagined a whole new sibling. A sister with a man's name (almost). She wanted to know all about how I've managed to essentially forget, over time, that I even HAVE a brother. He's such a non-issue that he's even dropped out of my dreams and needed a replacement in a drunken little sister. She loved the description of the house and wanted to know in detail what it felt like to be wandering around in my mother's chaos. It was a fruitful session.
So last night, at least six, possibly seven years after I originally dreamed this dream, I dreamt the epilogue. Or maybe a later chapter and the true epilogue is still to come.
I go to visit my Mom and find her sitting in the garden house on the floor. The house is much smaller-- no furniture, the floor is packed and swept dirt. There are three windows and a door, no decorations, and no bird feeders. My mother is crying, "Your brother made me sell my beautiful collection! He needed the money. What will Georgie do? Those were her inheritance!"
I am in the same moment sorry for my mother as she's weeping for my brother and completely livid that her only thoughts are for how Georgie will cope. I'm the one standing here! Where's MY inheritance? Money for my brother, money for Georgie, nothing for me. I hate Georgie. I hate her so much I'm sweating with it.
When I woke up I found myself to be MOST confused. For a few minutes there I really had to convince myself that I can't hate Georgie because she doesn't even exist. Makes me ever so much less likely to rush out and buy a bird feeder though.