Dreams...

My dreams have finally become real.

I dreamed that I was riding with friends... and they decided to go to my old house (which, naturally, looked entirely different than in real life). I got out of the van in which we were traveling, and heard Anthony ask where I was.

I freaked.

Backstory:

I don't know why, but I don't want to be around him or his family... at least not for now. It actually makes me seize up, to the point that in real life I can't go to his house to see my daughter, who's his foster daughter.

Yes, you read that correctly--- I even chose him for her foster father. And now I can't bear to be around him.

He's a nice guy. Pretty decent, former best friend of my soon-to-be-ex-husband who dropped Scott like a hot potato after Scott went to prison for sexually abusing the kids. I like him.

So the only reason I can fathom for my current reaction is that I feel shame... shame for my illness, for my hoarding, for my panic attacks and agoraphobia... and the fact that I've seen Anthony avoid me in the grocery store just adds to that shame.

And now it's become part of my dreams.

Anyway, back to the dream:

I heard Anthony say that, and I took off running for cover before he could see me. I went around corners, through hallways, and still he was gaining on me, talking all the while to someone else.

I stumbled upon a bathroom, the only outlet I had left, and even though it was filthy, I went inside and closed the door... or at least I tried to shut it.

The door was off just enough that the bolt couldn't connect with the latch plate and hold shut the door.

Seriously?? What a bathroom!

So I held the door shut, trying to force the bolt into place as Anthony came up and tried to open the door. He didn't sound angry, just his normal conversational voice... and my heart was pounding in fear, in desperation to stay away from him. He started to force the door open...

... and I woke up.

I hate this. I can't even escape in my dreams.