I have a recurring dream. The location changes, but the idea is the same. I am returning to an apartment or home that I have not been to in a bit, but must immediately vacate for some reason. Sometimes I have roommates, sometimes it’s just me, but in either case we have not packed at all. The belongings seem to multiply, or I can’t find enough boxes and have to choose what to take and what to abandon. In some of the dreams I think I am done, but then find a small door I have forgotten which opens to reveal a close attic or basement that is stacked with clothes or books or stuffed animals.
Last night I seemed to have been returning to a townhouse of some kind. There was a line of 4 or 5 of them, and there were back entrances that seemed very sketchy and shabby, and led down to a lake. When I walked up to my entrance from the lake it had been taped over with a message, that the door had been sealed and locked by order of the city. All of the doors had. When I raced around to the front I found the door ajar and my roommates frantically packing. The building had been condemned.
It was obvious why. The structure was molded and rickety. Outlets were uncovered or just wires sticking out of the wall with no plug at all. Evidence of mice and roaches littered the floor. I tried to scream for help but my voice was gone, and I tried to make the people in the house understand that I needed them to help me call my husband to come help me pack. No one understood what I was saying.
A man approached me and said there was something I needed to see. He led me down a hallway, past a strange well-organized office, to a room that must be mine. Inside there was severe water damage, a folding table littered with old stuffed animals, and on the floor several large black cats. Some seemed old, some seemed under fed, others severely overfed. Each slunk from the room slowly and as best they could given their respective bulks, and each made eye contact with me. Their eyes were dull, clouded, yet sharp and judging. They couldn’t all be Toby’s kids, could they? He was safe at my…other house? Plus he was fixed, so he couldn’t have kittens, and I wouldn’t have left them all here alone and uncared for if he had.
At this point my mind did what it usually does and figures out that my dream is a bad one and attempted to change it. Nothing would have worked logically so it woke me up. I have been having vivid dreams for such a long time that I have learned to control them for the most part. At first I was oriented to being in this dream place, so it took me a second to realize that I was in the real world, in my actual bed, in our rental home. All humans and pets safe and accounted for.
I have this kind of dream multiple times a month. The same feelings of panic and disorganization accompany each one no matter the circumstances. I know dreams are just the brain throwing out the junk, but it’s difficult to believe that they don’t mean anything, especially when they happen so often. Do you have dreams that keep coming back to you? What do you think they mean?
For my part, I’m going to pick something to organize or clean today, and give some extra love to Toby.