I Don’t Always Remember My Dreams…


I wasn’t going to write about this but then I came across the picture and that was my sign that I should. ;-)

I had a weird dream the other night. I’m guessing it came about because I randomly came across a site where you can enter an address and possibly get the property value, so I entered my father/former stepmother’s place. It didn’t give me the property value but it did show the Google satellite view and for the first time I was actually able to pinpoint right where the house is even though it’s completely hidden in the trees. I was shocked to see there is a road (driveway to the house nearby) right near the property. I knew a driveway had to be there but I found that very unsettling—it ties in with the dreams I’ve had for about 30 years about more and more people moving up there. (It’s out in the boonies.)

I woke up from the dream and was extremely sleepy but I felt it was important to remember it. At first I was going over details in my head but I knew even doing that I’d forget most or all of the dream when I got up in the morning. I could barely keep my eyes open but I turned my lamp on, grabbed my notebook and pen and scribbled away.

So here is the dream:
I ran into Stepmother. I got in her car (Subaru Outback, one of her cars in real life) and we talked and went to her place, which was a big old messy house with a bunch of other people there, including her parents (but not her real-life parents). When we were talking she was rather vague. I asked how Brother #2 and Baby Brother were doing. B#2 was doing well, same job and house as before. She’d recently seen BB but he kind of shuts her out. She wouldn’t tell me where he was living or working (because she was too emotional?). I told her my boys can shut me out too, especially Older Son. I mentioned that Younger Son was gay, hoping to get info from her about BB but she was mum.

I ended up sitting on her big messy bed while she did little tasks that I think were so she wouldn’t have to talk. (I’ve had other dreams where this sort of thing is going on with her.)

There were a bunch of dogs there, including an old one that they all treated special.

There were a bunch of kids there (nieces and especially nephews?). There was a scrawny baby boy about nine months old, whom someone there had adopted because he’d been abused and neglected. The baby had a homemade scratched “tattoo” on his chest—SHAWN—that I’d heard about on the news.

Many people in the house had at least some Asian background (Japanese?), not Stepmother’s real heritage. And yet, she did not have the Asian background.

There was a dishcloth on the counter in the kitchen that I used to wash dishes with. I told a 10 year old boy there that I’d washed lots of dishes with it many years ago and he seemed impressed.

The end. Another old house dream, as well as a couple of other repeating themes for me. I felt rather unsettled by it at first for several hours but since then have just found it curious and interesting.


4 responses »

  1. I always wonder when I see strange ppl that I don’t know in my dreams if they are part of my system because that is how I have met lots of them. I wonder if some of the things you saw were really that way? it is possible I know it is weird but it is.


    • Hard to know about the people, especially since they all seemed to be stepmother’s relatives. Some things I saw were that way for sure. Their bedroom was often messy and I did sit on the bed to talk sometimes. And goodness knows I washed A LOT of dishes–plus last time I was at their house they really did have a couple dishrags/towels that were ages and ages old. Funny how that played into the dream. Dreams are so weird and interesting!


  2. Awhile back I google-mapped my old childhood home, what I think of as The House of Incest. How eerie and surreal to see that old home, even though it doesn’t bear much resemblance to how it looked back then. Many things had changed, but there was the same driveway leading to the double car garage, and the master bedroom window overlooking the front yard. How many times was I tortured in that room? It doesn’t bear thinking about.

    As I continued to look around on Google map I saw my old best friend’s house, right across the street; nothing there had changed. And houses where I’d babysit neighbor kids and….oh my, such a rush of memories! Sounds like I was tormenting myself but, really, I sometimes need to see evidence that I even had a childhood.

    As for dreams, most of the time I can only remember snippets, or when I do remember more they don’t make much sense. I have over the years dreamt about a lot of homes that never existed in real life. They always seem to be crammed full of people, the majority of whom snub me in the dream.


    • Surreal, indeed, Beauty. I’m so glad it validated things for you and I love “It doesn’t bear thinking about.” Now, that’s rising above! Interesting that we both have lots of dreams about non-existent houses.

      I live about 3/4 mile from the house I was abused in for about 5 years when I was really young. I’ve walked past it a few times and it always feels so strange to me that someone is living in this place where such evil happened. I always want to dash in there and say, “Do you KNOW what happened here?!” The fence my father built still stands (barely), the trees and shrubs he planted are there, I can picture the layout of the house pretty clearly. Yes, eerie and surreal. Several times a month I also pass within a few miles of where I spent the rest of my growing up. Different thoughts, different memories, but I almost always find myself in awe, yet again, that such evil could happen in an area that I consider to part of my own personal Eden.


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