Dream Journal Entry #5: Accused of Robbing Someone

It's been a hot minute since I've written for my dream journal. I waited too long to write this entry, but there were certain odd details that stuck out, so I think I can scrape together enough of it to turn it into a story.

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In my dream, I was accused of robbing a woman and attacking her. This woman was someone I grew up with. She went to my elementary school and all the way up to my high school. We weren't close friends. We didn't have overlapping classes or friends. We did, however, move to the same state as adults. I have her on Facebook, and she is the nicest person in the world. She has a charming husband, and they live a beautiful life with their pets and child. I communicate with her at the bare minimum.

My dream self didn't remember attacking or robbing her. Plenty of people showed up to tell me what to do. I had another friend, Z, write me a letter, telling me they were disappointed that I, a kind friend from high school, would be involved in such a bad ordeal. It was unthinkable. How dare I hold her at gunpoint?

The woman, let's call her Ashley, didn't press charges. She wanted me to come to her farmhouse to apologize and to talk about the attack. I, of course, didn't know the details of the attack.

Why did I need the money so bad? My friend, Z, wrote to me asking: don't you have more money than her? I said, as an individual, no, but if you combined my wealth with my husband's, yes. (Am I supposed to think of my spouse's wealth as mine?)

I went on a trip to Ashley's house. I was in a van with her family and my dad and oldest brother, Muriel. They were my legal team, I guess.

Imagine a beautiful two-story house in a meadow with the sun shining, people playing yard games, and people on a deck grilling barbecue. That was this woman's house. I was feeling a sense of dread. I couldn't remember attacking Ashley, so was it true? Was I being wrongfully accused or had I repressed a dream from many moons ago?

I would think through my memories while eating a hotdog. I would replay what I knew of Ashley as I played cornhole. This party was like a wonderland of stock photo moments.

I was given a packet of papers detailing the fight. There were sentences in black with sentences in blue. I remember something written about "clawing her with my nails."

I told people there was no way I did this. If I did it, I was under a fugue. I had lost my ability to interpret my conscious mind, and it had gone out into the world and done what it wanted of its own accord.

To be honest, I'm not really sure if people cared about this supposed fight. They had brought me to a party out in the country.

I was in their living room reading through the packet of papers. Ashley and her family members were in the room laughing and watching TV. I was preparing for her to invite me to another room, so we could talk, and I could apologize. This never happened. I kept dreading this confrontation, but it never came to fruition. I woke up.

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My cat was staring at my face. He was trying to wake me to feed him. I grabbed my cell phone. I went through Facebook. Oh, good. Ashley hasn't deleted me.

I've had a long list of high school friends delete me off Facebook. It's one of the largest groups to give me the ax, followed by random Christians I met during college. Granted, these are two somewhat large groups. I'm still really irritated that one friend deleted me a few weeks ago; it was right after I sent them an invitation to my wedding reception. Rudest thing that happened during all of my wedding planning process.

Anyway, I fell back asleep. I didn't get up to feed the cat. Don't worry, he just wants wet food. He has a bowl of dry kibble.

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My second dream was more about my husband. We were in good spirits. Actually, after my first date, I had a dream where he told me we were going to get married. He was right! My husband is a positive force in my dreams, for the most part.

We played some games together. I have a recurring dream where we play Sims, but my dream version is better than any of the actual games. I revisit some of the designs in the game. The Sims are more dynamic, like real people. You can create new houses with a simple thought. You can also teleport into them. That's the nice part about dreams; you can merge reality with video games and play in them.

Anyway, my husband and I were at some family gathering. My side of the family.

We were in a large house, and my dad and brother, Muriel, were talking about me and that I needed to do more to succeed and put myself out there. My cousin, Melissa, was hanging out with my husband. This cousin of mine in the real world is in the clergy. She is single, and I'm not sure if she wants to stay single. I think it would be hard as a woman to be a pastor and to try to date. Anyway, the interaction between her and my husband was friendly. He isn't the type to cheat.

They were sitting in a chair together. Melissa was smiling and laughing but her face said she was lonely. She is disconnected.

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I woke up again. I was still worried about why in the world I would dream that I robbed and attacked a really nice person from my past. Perhaps my dream is telling me that I'm too hard on myself because I can be pretty critical of myself. I don't have a mean thought about Ashley. In fact, I wish we had been close friends in high school.

I am also worried about money. I left my journalism job more than a year ago, and I've been trying to do freelance writing full time. The money in it has been dry. I've made more money in freelancing when I had a full-time job. So it's frustrating. I have the time to finally dedicate to freelancing, but the earnings have slowed almost to a halt. This does weigh heavily on me.