Hell House Revisited
I keep dreaming about the house. I don't know why, and I have no bloody idea what the dreams are supposed to signify, if anything.
In all the dreams, I'm back at the house, and for whatever reason, I'm either stuck, or being held back. In the dreams, I know the house is no longer mine (the dreams always occur after the point of sale), but I can't seem to leave.
In one dream, the walls started falling down, and D was trying to hold them up, and telling me he needed certain tools that I had to get to help him, or the new owners would back out of the sale.
In another dream, I kept packing boxes, and moments later, I'd open another cupboard, and the same shit I packed before would be sitting there, waiting to be packed all over again, and the box I just packed would be empty. It was like the boxes either kept unpacking themselves, or I was hallucinating about packing them.
In another dream, I dreamed that the new owners had already moved in, and they needed me to come do something (I've never met these people, so I have no fucking idea), and when I got there, everything looked the same as it did before I left (same furniture, etc).
Last night, I dreamed that I was there, and all my furniture was there. My neighbour kept calling me to tell me that the new owners were coming soon, but she needed me to help her do something before I moved all my stuff out, and I was getting annoyed, because she kept bugging me, and I felt I didn't have enough time to get out.
It's like I'm stuck. In reality, the house is gone, it's a done deal, and it's been that way since the end of January. I have my own place now, and I'm really happy living here. But, in my dreams, I keep going back to that fucking house. It's like I either can't get away, or that I keep wanting to go back - I'm not sure which it is.
A friend suggested that maybe, subconsciously, I missed living there, but I can honestly say I don't. It was pretty in the spring, but that was about the only good thing. It was large and a pain in the ass to clean, it was freezing cold in the winter and hot as shit in the summer, it was isolated, the driveway was horrific when it snowed, it wasn't close to anything, it cost a fortune to run, and a fortune to maintain. I didn't exactly hate the house until a few years before D and I broke up, but I certainly wasn't 'in love' with it throughout the entire time I lived there. Owning that house was one of the most stressful things I've ever done, and for thirteen years, I had to worry about making sure there was enough money to keep the damn thing going. The mortgage payments and utility bills were one side of it. The repairs (new well and water system, new roof and siding on both the house and garage, appliances would break down, the furnace crapped out, etc.) were the worst. It seemed that any time we'd start to get ahead, something would go wrong, and it would costs thousands of dollars to fix. About two years after we'd moved in (and after we'd spent $15,000 to replace the well and water system), I started saying 'This house is going to be the death of me'. And, I kept saying it until the day I left. I'd nicknamed it 'Hell House'. It just ate money.
So why, in my dreams, do I keep going back?? I've been gone for four full months, but in my dreams, I'm still frantically trying to get away. And, although the dreams aren't what I'd consider 'bad', I still wake up feeling unsettled, and I hate that.
I wish my brain had a translator.
In all the dreams, I'm back at the house, and for whatever reason, I'm either stuck, or being held back. In the dreams, I know the house is no longer mine (the dreams always occur after the point of sale), but I can't seem to leave.
In one dream, the walls started falling down, and D was trying to hold them up, and telling me he needed certain tools that I had to get to help him, or the new owners would back out of the sale.
In another dream, I kept packing boxes, and moments later, I'd open another cupboard, and the same shit I packed before would be sitting there, waiting to be packed all over again, and the box I just packed would be empty. It was like the boxes either kept unpacking themselves, or I was hallucinating about packing them.
In another dream, I dreamed that the new owners had already moved in, and they needed me to come do something (I've never met these people, so I have no fucking idea), and when I got there, everything looked the same as it did before I left (same furniture, etc).
Last night, I dreamed that I was there, and all my furniture was there. My neighbour kept calling me to tell me that the new owners were coming soon, but she needed me to help her do something before I moved all my stuff out, and I was getting annoyed, because she kept bugging me, and I felt I didn't have enough time to get out.
It's like I'm stuck. In reality, the house is gone, it's a done deal, and it's been that way since the end of January. I have my own place now, and I'm really happy living here. But, in my dreams, I keep going back to that fucking house. It's like I either can't get away, or that I keep wanting to go back - I'm not sure which it is.
A friend suggested that maybe, subconsciously, I missed living there, but I can honestly say I don't. It was pretty in the spring, but that was about the only good thing. It was large and a pain in the ass to clean, it was freezing cold in the winter and hot as shit in the summer, it was isolated, the driveway was horrific when it snowed, it wasn't close to anything, it cost a fortune to run, and a fortune to maintain. I didn't exactly hate the house until a few years before D and I broke up, but I certainly wasn't 'in love' with it throughout the entire time I lived there. Owning that house was one of the most stressful things I've ever done, and for thirteen years, I had to worry about making sure there was enough money to keep the damn thing going. The mortgage payments and utility bills were one side of it. The repairs (new well and water system, new roof and siding on both the house and garage, appliances would break down, the furnace crapped out, etc.) were the worst. It seemed that any time we'd start to get ahead, something would go wrong, and it would costs thousands of dollars to fix. About two years after we'd moved in (and after we'd spent $15,000 to replace the well and water system), I started saying 'This house is going to be the death of me'. And, I kept saying it until the day I left. I'd nicknamed it 'Hell House'. It just ate money.
So why, in my dreams, do I keep going back?? I've been gone for four full months, but in my dreams, I'm still frantically trying to get away. And, although the dreams aren't what I'd consider 'bad', I still wake up feeling unsettled, and I hate that.
I wish my brain had a translator.