Karma continues and the dreams connected
Okay, things are going a little bit better. I’ve been having a pretty rough couple of weeks, trying to hang onto some semblance of productivity while I wade through my head. I’m not depressed and seem to have battled back the PTSD flare up of self-doubt and anxiety that was holding me under water.
Things are better at work. Something happened, and I’m not clear on what it was, that got the two bosses talking. They actually met with their entire staff to explain my role in detail to make sure everyone understood exactly how busy I am and asked that they are more careful when requesting my assistance with something. They were asked to try to resolve issues on their own (I help these guys with just about everything from computer issues to equipment repair) and to only come to me as a last resort. I feel like that’s a waste of their time, really, to spend 30 minutes trying to fix something I could have taken care of in 2 minutes flat, but I realize that I simply cannot do everything all the time and expect to still get my actual job done every week. They’re also looking at taking the compensation piece away from me so that would mean no more payroll…which would be glorious. There should be a staffing clerk in these departments but because we are funded differently from the rest of the hospital, the budget is squeezed so thin it’s nearly transparent. Still, they’re going to try to take that (huge) piece off my plate and if they succeed in even reducing it, I’ll be one happy Grainne. So. That was good.
The new med is still working really well with the daytime sleepiness, although I still find I’m passed out cold by 8 pm on the couch most nights and sleep endlessly when left to rest. The quality of sleep remains unchanged as well and the dreams are still in full swing, in fact, I think they’re even more vivid. Dreams….reminds me of what I woke up to this morning.
The ex-landlord karmic bonanza continues down the road from me. After the trees came down in the wind and tore off the hydro cables, they pulled the tree out of the ground and when it came up (because they did it on their own using poor judgment) the entire old, stone well that was next to it came up with it. Although they didn’t ever tell us, from the damage left behind it was instantly clear that our water source, when living in the rental, was actually that old, mossy, leaking well. The garden hose they buried that siphoned the rental house’s water off their own, main water line, did not run directly to our pump, as they told us, it emptied into that disgusting well and was then fed over to us. We *never* drank or used the water for cooking because it both looked and smelled inedible and now we know why. Thank heavens we didn’t put that into our bodies…ever; we even used bottled water to boil for tea or coffee. The city inspector was called in by Hyrdo when they came to fix the line and then refused to do so upon inspection of the very old, out of date and not up to code electrical breaker. The inspector took one look at the water feed, the rotting natural gas line and ridiculously bad wiring in the house and closed it, citing over 20 code violations. The rental house is now condemned by the city until it is brought up to code and doing so is going to cost them a fortune. They’ve already put in about 50 grand…for what was supposed to be a super quick fix up with some new windows and a new carpet in the bedroom; it’s now turned into an expensive renovation that is going to cost them more than if they build a brand new house on the land from scratch. Karma is just eating these guys alive. (We are being fed gossip through our neighbours who are family to the landlord. They dislike the landlady very much in that family so it’s fun for them to tell us all about it. I can’t deny that I love hearing the stories…lol)
So the dreams. I’ve been dreaming constantly about the house and the ex-landlords since we moved into the new place (which is still amazing, btw. It’s WARM in there and there are no drafts that lift my hair when I walk past the windows. In fact, we are finding it too warm most days and keep turning the thermostat down!) Dayne thinks my dreams have meanings beyond what I take from them and he’s forever trying to convince me that I am, somehow, energetically linked to people, places and certain events. I have had many dreams that ‘come true’ in very direct and specific ways but I’ve always chalked that up to the PTSD and the instinctual obsessive attention to detail that comes with it for me. I am very acutely aware of my surroundings at all times and of anything that may cause me harm in the future, so, I think my brain, picking up all the info it can, creates dreams to mirror what’s happening in my life? Stories on the news? Who knows. Anyway, the point is that Dayne believes that I’m dreaming of the house for a reason.
The first few dreams were of going back there to collect the things we forgot or left behind. I snuck into the house while their family was all around fixing the place up from the outside. I was staying low to not be seen through windows and found that I had left behind a bookshelf full of my favourite books. I found a cloth bag and stuffed the ones I couldn’t bear to part with inside and snuck back out. I got caught but woke up before anything happened.
The next dreams were about them tearing the house down around us. In one dream I was in the basement and a series of events caused it to flood rapidly. Dayne and I had to swim to the stairs and there was no time to rescue any of our things. We lived in the upper floor for a while but the landlords were constantly trying to make us leave. They even brought in a new family and allowed them to park in our spots, play with Colt’s toys and they put a swing directly outside out kitchen window so we’d always see them there. Another dream had them physically tearing the house down around us while we slept. We would wake each morning to find more of the house gone. Eventually it was just a half-barn with three walls and they build a huge campfire right outside where the one wall used to sit. The smoke was intolerable but we just kept burying our faces in our blankets and shifting deeper into the shelter to get away from the flying sparks from the fire. Other dreams were about Dayne and I helping them clean the place up for new tenants. They kept asking us to ignore the parts that were broken and to cover things with blankets and curtains.
The dream this morning was a bit different. We were there, helping a new family move in. They were a family of four, a mom, dad a 6 year old girl and a 2 year old boy…very cute kids. The parents had moved all of their furniture in but they couldn’t get the lights to work so Dayne set about tracking the wires to see if he could find a short anywhere. As he fiddled with things I went to check on the kids. The parents had gone out, leaving us with their children, and I wanted to make sure they were okay. I went upstairs and found Colt in his old room, happily hanging out on his bed but the other two were not with him.
“You okay bum?” I asked him.
“Yep, I’m good mom.” he answered without looking up from his ipad.
“Where are the kids Colt? Did you see them go outside?”
“Nope, didn’t see a thing.” he said.
I went back downstairs and started looking around, my heart picking up a little, worrying that they might have wandered off. I found Dayne in the living room.
“Can you do me a favour?” he asked. “Wait until I connect the wire to the panel and then flip the switch for the light and tell me if it works?”
He went back to the panel and then called for me to try it. I flipped the switch and the over-head light came on. I turned it off and on again, to double check, but the same light did not come back on, a lamp on the side table did instead.
“Dayne – something weird is going on with the wiring…” I called.
He came back into the room and watched as I flipped the switch up and down, each time a different light blinking on and turning off.
“That’s not even possible!” Dayne said.
I flipped the switch on again and the TV came to life, fuzzing with static. I jumped in surprise and then watched, frozen by confusion as I watched the TV start to move on its own. It slid angrily across the floor leaving deep grooves in the carpet back and forth across the room. I turned the switch off and it stopped dead, screen turning black instantly.
“What in the world was that?” I wondered aloud. “…and where are the kids Dayne! We have to find them or at least call their parents to tell them they’re missing….”
“I don’t think the kids can come back in here. I don’t think you can have kids in this house at all.” Dayne said cryptically.
So back to reality – Dayne is convinced that the house doesn’t like what’s going on. He thinks that it’s rebelling from all the years of neglect. Interestingly, the house burnt down, twice, before we lived in it….and I mean burnt to the ground. It was the original house on the property and in the early 1930’s there was a huge barn fire that sent chunks of flaming hay to the roof which caught ablaze and took the entire house faster than help could arrive. In the 1960’s after the place had been rebuilt, a nest, built in the chimney of the wood stove caught fire and was reduced to ashes again. In the first fire an adult male and a female child burned to death. In the second, a little boy who was trapped in his crib died from smoke inhalation. The house was rebuilt once again, this time with no wood stove and on a concrete pad farther away from the barn and in the 1990’s the farm (corn and wheat) was retired and became a tree farm when my ex landlords bought it. It was a crappy little, overrun place and they fixed it up and built themselves a new house on a piece of the property closer to the road which allowed them to hook into the city electric and water services. The other house became their rental and I don’t think they did a single moment of upkeep on it from that point forward. If I were their house I’d be pissed too.
Wow. I’m really distracted today. It’s nearly noon and I’ve managed to accomplish a whole lot of nothing. Time to get at it. I can’t really complain about workload when I spent half my time daydreaming.
Thought I’d throw in some photos of the old place and the condition they left it in for us to live there. We did our best to cover up the worst of it and made due…thought it might be interesting for some of you to see how bad it really was, after all this talk.