Well, I guess they’re common.
Last night I dreamed I went back to an old place I used to live to pick up some things I left there years ago, things I wanted to give my babies. I left that place suddenly not long after an ex and I broke up and the slumlord made life such hell I left in the middle of the night, leaving everything behind, and didn’t return.
Well, the ex I had been living there with, who was an abusive f*ck*r (seven years later and there’s still apparent trauma, and my sweetie’s been working with me on overcoming some of what happened) had apparently moved back out from Massachusetts, where he returned after the split. This place is in California. And he was living there with someone new.
The place was just as I left it, and he was wearing this grey suit we bought him, and acting like a ring-leader with a girlfriend who was just as harsh and large as he was, and a few other people I didn’t know where there, but they were friends of his. The difference was the slumlord’s house had been torn down. It was on the same property.
So I was trying to gather things that were mine and I wanted, and he kept trying to intimidate me into not ever revealing what happened with us, such as refusing to let me get medical care when I was pregnant with his baby that I did miscarry in 1999. He could tell I was pregnant, and threatened I’d lose these babies too and was livid that I was with anyone else.
I gathered up what I wanted as quickly as I could and got the boxes outside, where he’d followed me. For some reason I was afraid of leaving without doing what I went there for. Just as before, he acted a bit nicer when strangers were around, and there were workers tearing up the orchard that had been the front yard. When around people we knew, he did things like grope me. But there were only strangers. So he loaded up the boxes into my car, and said he was coming with me and needed to grab something.
I realized I left the keys inside and ran in to find them and said I was starting the car while he was rifling around in the closet, and hurried out to start the car. My plan was to take off as fast as I could. With how the driveway is, I had to back up and turn to the left, then go in drive and turn the wheels to the right to get to the road. So just as he reached the car, I managed to throw the car into reverse and back up, but then had to put the car into drive with him chasing me, and I didn’t want to hit him with my car and ruin it, though wouldn’t mind a semi running over him. And I did avoid hitting him and got onto the road.
Just thinking about this dream has my heart racing. I really would be glad if I heard news that he’s dead. I don’t like thinking about him or even knowing he’s on the same planet I’m on. Seven years later and I’m still dealing with trauma.
It just seems so random that he was in my nightmare last night, and I have no idea why I went by myself to somewhere far away without Cody, especially pregnant.