At one point, it was nighttime, and the whole house was dark, and I knew the murderers were coming, but I had nowhere good to hide. A man I knew and trusted (Shannon? Donald? Jay?) was asleep in the room, and I wanted to hide under his bed to sleep where I would feel safe, but the bed was too low to the ground & I couldn't fit underneath, so I slept on the floor next to the bed, knowing full well that I was totally vulnerable in that location and that the murderers were sure to find me in the night and that I was going to die. But then I didn't die, somehow, and had to keep sneaking around the house hiding the next day.
At another point, I was in a room in full light, and the murderers came in, and I held very still, and it seemed like they weren't noticing me. Like magic! Like they thought I was a statue or a mannequin! But then one of them walked up to me and started gesturing to my face or something and commenting on me & I realized that they could see me & knew I was there, and I waited for a moment when I thought they weren't looking & ran out of the room to find somewhere else to hide.
Obviously Ernie-related trauma dreams, though I don't know why they're plaguing me right now (the past two nights!). During the day, I haven't been having too rough a time, haven't been thinking about the past much, been working on a fairly optimistic, positive, future-looking art project (something I can do to allay the boredom while sick without wearing myself out). Something to discuss with my therapist on Wednesday. She LOOOOOVES when I talk about my dreams.
