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doors without doorknobs... a dream.

last night I dreamed I was in my old house, the one I lost because my ex decided he would not pay child support unless the state could catch him to garnish it. it was a violent dream, which I think had to do with a violent reaction to listening to my Prolonged Exposure Therapy recording for session eight (which I have not yet blogged, but I promise to get to it as soon as possible).

in the dream I was in my kitchen, and I could see outside my windows that young men were flowing over the fences into my yard in droves. they looked like gang members and moved like ninjas and really scared me. my kids were with me. my partner was with me. I told everyone to lock the doors and reached for the back door, but there was no knob or deadbolt like I remembered there being when we lived there. the door was solid, with no knob openings drilled into it, but it was the same door that I remember, painted white and scuffed at the bottom where a dog had scratched at it to be let out (I'd always looked forward to replacing that door before I lost the house).

why were you in my dream, John Barrowman?

last night I had one of those very vivid, detailed dreams. I woke up hoping it wouldn't just slip away, but give me time to ponder hidden symbols, so I'm at my computer earlier than I wanted to be.

my ex was in the dream, and so was my mother. we all lived in an apartment. it was the same apartment I lived in with my ex when I decided to divorce him.

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