My dreams adrift on a sea of misogyny
Scroll down for previews of my book, the PT Blog, & more.
My dreams adrift on a sea of misogyny
Scroll down for previews of my book, the PT Blog, & more.
Previews of the Book
PROLOGUE
DESERTED ISLAND
I dreamed last night:
I lived in the attic of an old Victorian house. In the evenings, a man would call me down to the lower levels of the house. I didn't want to go, but felt I had no choice in the matter. I sat in my room—waiting—knowing—that when the man called, I would go.
***
When I woke, I thought, that's what I get for binging The Handmaid’s Tale three nights in a row. Last weekend, when a friend shared their enthusiasm for the TV series, I thought I would give it a try. These days, I watched TV alone. After years of watching everything with Bill, side by side, we started watching shows separately. Like comic book characters, we had drifted into separate cinematic universes. I wasn’t sure our universes would converge again. Night after night, alone on the love seat I used to share with Bill, with Emma's pandemic puppy curled up next to me, I could hear Bill through the study door, laughing at some comedy special. Having abandoned Bill's ship, I felt lost on a lonely sea. I wasn't sure what I wanted. Should I stay in the marriage or leave?
***
Years later, looking back at this episode in my life, I was stunned when I realized the man in my dream, who called me down from the attic, was my ally, not my enemy. He had invited me to an exploration of the deeper regions of my psyche.
DESERTED ISLAND
DESERTED ISLAND
An old dream:
I was alone on an island. The grass was lush and green, but the windswept landscape was void of trees or large vegetation. Standing on the highest point, overlooking the ocean, I could see in every direction—nothing but the limitless sky and a vast, calm sea. Inhaling the ocean air, my whole being expanded to embrace the panorama saturated with sunlight and crystal blue hues. I felt energized, strong—ready to take on anything.
***
It was week two of the pandemic shutdown, I lay in bed. I hated waking.
For some reason, a dream I had decades ago, came to mind. It only added to my self-castigation.
Where had she gone? The woman on the island? The woman I once hoped to become?
With nowhere to go, most days I was free to lie in and burrow under my covers. I longed to return to my slumbers, and escape, but a slave to routine, I rose immediately. Crossing the room, throwing on my robe, I paused at my grandmother’s antique mirror.
I'm repeating family history, like my mother and my grandmother before me..
I remembered the lawyer, who drew up the papers terminating my previous marriage. She assumed I would return to my maiden name.
“No,” I told her, “it was my stepfather’s. I want my grandmother’s name..."
I wish had been that easy.
TIGER KING
TIGER KING
Recounting the dream to Stephanie, my therapist, I remembered an episode from my previous marriage.
Startled, I retreated to the bedroom. He followed me, picked up a bed pillow and gripped it in both hands. Terrified, I ran from the room, but Abe chased me down, the pillow held to his chest. Heading towards Emma's room, to grab her and escape, like I had done countless times before, I tripped and landed on all fours, just feet from the door where Emma was napping.
Abe crouched down next to me and raised the pillow in the air, he slurred his speech.
“I'm so sick of you.”
I curled up as best I could, wrapping my arms over my head. Emma, nearly three years old, emerged from the bedroom, rubbing her eyes still groggy from sleep, she saw us, stopped and turned rigid. I tried to shield myself as Abe brought the pillow down over and over again, pounding the floor next to my head, while spewing a relentless stream of anger.
"I'm sick of your complaints."
He had been violent before, but this time, I knew Abe was might kill me in front of our daughter. Miraculously, he stopped, got up and started pacing the room like a big cat circling its prey. My one thought was to protect my daughter.
BLIZZARD
TIGER KING
I was dreaming::
Looking out the bay window of my old flat, it was the morning after the blizzard. The blue sky sparkled with clarity. The trees were freshly adorned in snug white coats that shimmered in the sunlight. My Honda Accord, parked in the driveway, was buried under at least a foot of snow. I had to dig it out as soon as possible, so the couple living in the flat above could get their car out too. Donning my snow gear, I trudged outside with a shovel, and began to excavate my car. After several minutes trying to remove the snow drifts that kept piling up on both sides of the Honda, I wasn’t making any progress. With an exhale of frustration, made palpable by the frigid air, I changed tact. Walking to the end of the driveway, I tackled the crusty barricade left by the plow. After clearing it without much trouble, I turned around expecting to see the stretch of driveway between my car and the road socked full of snow. I was surprised—the path directly behind my car was already clear. Why hadn’t I noticed? All the effort I had expended previously, digging at the piles of snow alongside the automobile, had been a waste of time. All I had to do was put down the shovel, get in the car, back it out, and drive away.
COMPLICIT
TIDAL WAVE
A nightmare:
Dressed in scrubs, I stood next to a stretcher. On it lay a barely conscious woman, who was also me, but another version. A man, who appeared to be a doctor, stood next to the upright version of me. When the man leaned over the horizontal woman, I assisted by holding the woman down. The man bit the woman's neck, sucked all of the blood and left the lifeless body for dead.
Waking suddenly, shocked and frightened, I sat up. My hands grasped my neck. I could feel the bite and the physical sensation of my life’s force draining from my body.
Checking the bedside clock, it read 3:00 AM. Claire, my first child, just six weeks old, was fussing. Rising, I lifted Claire from the bassinet next to the bed and pressed that tiny body wrapped in flannel close to my chest. It’s then that I noticed Sean’s absence—that side of the bed was empty. Did Sean fall asleep on the couch? Pacing the apartment awkwardly trying to comfort my baby, the combination of Claire's agitation and my anxiety crescendoed, I started to panic—Sean’s not here! What should I do? In the age before cellphones, I had no way to locate my husband.
TIDAL WAVE
TIDAL WAVE
An old dream:
Back in my college dining hall, I was seated at a table next to the floor to ceiling windows overlooking the lake upon which my campus was situated. Suddenly, I could see and feel a large tidal wave approaching from across the lake. No one else seemed to notice or tried to escape. I rose to my feet to flee, but it was too late. In those last remaining seconds, I was engulfed by horror, as a wall of water crashed through the large picture windows. The tables, the chairs, and the students were violently tossed about as everything was washed away in the water's wake.
Two years after dropping out of college, I had just quit a restaurant job I hated, when my mother phoned me. At the time we weren't talking much, so a call was a bit unusual. Since leaving school, I avoided my parents as much as possible. Worried my mother had heard I was jobless, I answered with some trepidation, "Hi, Mom."
In a strained voice my mother made a surprising request, “Would you please join your sisters and me for a session with a social worker?”
“Your sister is suicidal...."
Upcoming Previews
THE EASTWOOD HOUSE
February 20, 1965:
Standing beside the bed my mother, Anne, yelled at my father, “Get up! Get out of bed you dirty bastard!” Laying out Harold’s things, as Anne did every morning, a letter fell from Harold's wallet. Signed by Jane, it confirmed Anne's suspicions.
SLEIGHT OF HAND
My Mother's Dream:
It was late night. Barefoot and pregnant, wearing a night gown, I walked across a large, empty parking lot. Across the lot I saw my husband and his new girlfriend leaning against Harold's car. Acting very intimate, they were engaged in conversation. Even from a distance, I could hear them laugh as they made fun of me.
LIZZIE'S TALE
It was eleventh grade:
"Eric kissed me...The alcohol on Eric's breath nearly extinguished mine. At once, my head started spinning. Overcome by a dizzying mix of sickness and panic, I abruptly pushed away. Eric slumped back, surprised, but non-reactive. I spiralled down…losing all sense of time and space, I had a flashback.”
SWIM LESSONS
Another water dream:
I invited a group of my college friends to my favorite swimming hole. Picking up our books and our backpacks, we rushed to the lake without our swim suits. Stepping to the edge of the water, I pointed. “If you dive from this spot you can swim to the spring below.” I dove into the water with my clothes on.
DIRTY SHEETS
DIRTY SHEETS
A reoccurring nightmare:
I arrived at my grandparents’ house, happy to be there. Oddly, instead of running to the kitchen to greet them as I usually did, I climbed the staircase to the second floor. The bedroom doors were open. It was daytime but all the shades were drawn. My grandparents and some of my relatives were lying in their beds.
SEA MONSTER
DIRTY SHEETS
My fourth birthday:
The nurse wheeled me to the visitors' room. "Your family's coming today." I couldn't respond. It still flashed across my mind. The bathroom... the faucet... trying to scream... no words, my body, frozen... my confusion, when I stopped feeling anything... the hands holding me down as the tub filled with scalding water.
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