ABSTRACT
One night, approximately two years into a three-times weekly treatment with Kate, a 23-year-old patient with bulimia, I had the following dream: I was en route to a night club in New York City. I knew Kate was celebrating her birthday there, and she asked me to “come through” (her term for stopping by). I think I was alone. I walked into a dimly lit club with modern décor. I liked the music playing and felt uplifted by it. Kate appeared and handed me two shots of Patron. I don’t know if I drank them or not. Kate seemed glad to see me, although I sensed a strange awkwardness hanging in the air that may have been the result of seeing each other in “life” rather than in the familiar setting of my office. People were dancing, chatting, and having fun. At some point (not sure how much later), I saw Kate again. She was dressed in a long, white, flowing dress and she was dancing with little inhibition. She “danced” up to me and raising her voice above the music said, “I realized something big.” As she said this, her large brown eyes lit up. She said, “Words are just words-that’s all they are.” I felt very happy that she had this revelation . . . then I woke up.
