I was sitting in a wheelchair, with a woman sitting in another wheelchair, around us were stairs. I was chasing after her or so, forcing her against a wall and such, I don't exactly remember. I somehow knew that the building I was in was an institution for the mentally ill. After having acted like a nut for a while a man came and drove me off. As we went downstairs, he told me: "And Ms
At that point the thought that what he said was true, that I was indeed crazy and that I did indeed belong in that institution, dawned on me. I must have rejected the thought fiercely the next moment, though, as the dream then shifted to me bringing down a small white gate as you'd see in front of a house, and flinging two dismembered arms with swords in their hands away from me, watching them vaporize and preparing to head home. I was walking on grass and thinking of running home.
During the dream I remember seeing or just hearing certain people I know, like my father and his new wife, plus random people, giggling and laughing at me. It felt as though they were mocking me. When I woke up from the dream I felt my heart beating in my chest, as the experience had seemingly affected me quite a bit. I went to see Pieter shortly after waking up so that I could be a crybaby again.
I think that the dream is largely based on my experiences at the VUMC, as both my mother and I have described the Gender Team there as 'lunatics treating the sane', combined with my further experiences, sense of loneliness in this whole issue with a big dash of paranoia.
But frankly, why should I trust anyone at this point to help me?