Last night I dreamt that I’d walked into our living room and saw what I thought was a large spot of vomit on the carpet. In relation to the normal spots left by one of our two small dogs, it was enormous. Husband was in the other room and when I asked what happened, he had no idea what I was talking about. He hadn’t seen it, even though he’d walked through the same room. To be honest, he’s rather blind to messes big or small, so I didn’t find this terribly unusual. Even in my dream.
I explored further. To my horror, not only were there more large patches of this disgusting brown goo, but there were also pieces of carcass and large neatly sawed bones scattered through my home. The remains looked as though they’d been brought to my home straight from the butcher. After seeing some bits of skin and a tail, I was finally able to determine that I was looking at pig remains.
As is typical in most dreams, my “home” bore only passing resemblance to my actual one, but close enough, right? I mean, dreams are the gateway to the unconscious, right?
Needless to say, in my dream I was horrified. Who would do such a thing? How? Why?
The dream then took a turn, as dreams are wont to do. A group of friends appear at my home for some kind of meeting. Of course, I apologize for the state of my home. Someone knew right away what was going on.
“It’s him. He’s stalking you!”
Of course, in the dream we all know who “he” was . . . some guy who got pissed off at me over something I said. And he was determined to make my life miserable.
Scene change: The meeting has to happen, of course, trashed home and stalker notwithstanding. We have moved our meeting to a park. We are carrying on. Someone leans in to me and says, “Oh my god, there he is. And he’s got a camera.”
I look up, and hells bells, there he is. I try to hide my face behind a tree as he points his camera at me as he snaps away like some crazed paparazzi. My dodge has no effect. He just moves to a different vantage point. I hold things in front of my face while trying to walk away from him. I don’t understand how he got so crazy. What can I do to make this go away? Can this happen again?
I am terrified.
And then I wake up.
It could be that I’ve been watching too much Dateline, but I doubt it. I never dismiss my dreams when they stick with me like this one. I see bits and pieces that make sense with what I’m struggling with right now. I just need to peel away the layers.