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I had a hard night, and I will tell you why.


I had a dream, the bulk of which I do not remember, now. But I did remember when I awoke from it in the night.


There was a betrayal. The woman part of a couple stole money, in a briefcase. She took it from somebody she loved. Intentionally. As I remember, it was not my money that was stolen. The rest of the dream was a chase scene. The culmination of it was that I rammed a car into the female perpetrator. Killing her.


When I awoke I was convinced that the female perpetrator represented my mother.


I feel pretty sure that I have been harboring anger against my mother for taking our money and for feeling it was her own. She always expressed that we had tried to take her money. I think I am finally trying to come to terms with the reality of my mother and how she was to me. And the feelings of extreme anger I have turned against myself.


It is not important about the money. It is that it is emblematic of everything else.


I am left with that a sense of enough is close at hand, but not here. Being with M and our animals in our home, the possibility of work, and learning to play with a trip to the East--seems close, but not yet here.


Thank you.


COPA


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