The Internal and Subconscious World of DropTherapy

The dream started in a house that was a mix of my house, my guitarist's, and my fiance's houses. My girlfriend and I were getting ready to go to a concert for a band that doesn't exist. We ended up just walking through some suburbs in fancy goth outfits but it was still nice. We then went outback, where there was a super nature-y neighborhood (mainly trailers and tents and stuff but also some houses) where she wanted to check out a listing for a 3 bedroom trailer. We got there and it was a one bedroom/studio trailer with a giant pylon installed through it. Needless to say, she needed to keep searching.

Later, I show a friend (either it was Edynn or one of my headmates, hard to tell) the listing, and it was gone. We continued through the neighborhood and saw drive in theaters playing sci-fi movies about robots and 3D models of trailers. We then came upon an exact replica of my childhood home.

Upon entering, my grandma was in the kitchen. She was talking incoherently and on the stand in front of the back window was a small paperback cook book she authored after she lost lucidity. The book was page after page of incoherent nonsense with illustrations of recipes made from ingredients that don't exist. Think AI generated food but it looked as if they were actual photos. I go up to her and ask "hey grandma, what made you decide to make a cook book?" And she responded by taking it out of my hands, mumbling vaguely about regret, and beginning to tear it up page by page. I panicked and took it out of her hands, to which she responded by screaming at me and chasing me and my friend out the front door.

Before we could fully leave, she stopped and began to apologize to her late husband, which we soon connected the dots as representing an attempt to apologize to me directly. For a moment, we saw a glimpse into the memories she was living through in that moment, sitting on a recliner in front of a shadowy, warped figure. It was like it was projected in front of us and the grandma that was in front of me temporarily vanished. When she came back, we hugged as she talked, and an illustration of a lion showed up behind us, after which I audibly said "oh my god, you're still alive" and began crying in her arms. The whole time I should mention that sad symphonic movie music was playing. I don't remember if I told her I loved her or not. I suppose this whole scene was my brain's roundabout way of saying she was still alive in my heart or something like that.

I woke up crying for the first time ever about my grandmother's death since it happened in September 2019. I suppose I deliberately prevented myself from saying goodbye in the waking world so as to not have to handle emotions that I was still afraid of at the time. I don't know if she would have approved of me being trans or any of the other stuff I came out as since her death, but she tried her hardest to raise me even as her dementia got worse, so I have something to thank her for regardless.


RIP Martha Flinchum, 1933-2019