So I was reading through one of my journals... invariably this story always comes up: The first dream I remember having. It was the dream I had after they brought my baby sister, Malissa, home from the hospital. Bear in mind, I was born in March '82 and my sister was born in November of '84. So I was approaching three at this point. But this dream was vivid as any experience I can remember having. We were living in Korea when my sister was born. In Korea, families sleep together on a floor mattress called a yo (sp?).
In my dream, I was situated nicely, all comfy and cozy, on my mother's right. She was sleeping to the right of my father. Everything was peaceful. Then all of the sudden, the baby sister descends slowly from the heavens and usurps me from my rightful place at my mother's side. This yo was too narrow for the both of us and I roll out from under the heavy, "mink" blanket. The dream culminates in me freezing to death on that bitterly cold November night.
How fucking deep for a 2 year old's dream, huh? I've never forgotten it. This dream is engraved in my psyche. Needless to say, I did try to dispatch my sister several times during my childhood... but circumstances always kept me from accomplishing my goal. I wonder if all eldest children have felt this way or if I am just particularly crazy. Again, I apologize for my psychoness. I've noticed it is a theme that runs throughout my blogs.