My name is Jenn, and I'm a 27 year old married and babied chick. In addition to a husband, a seven year old daughter, and a five year old autistic son, I also have four cats, three hermit crabs, two frogs, a few fish, and one snorty little Pug. I work from home doing a variety of writing and even some web design. I love blogging, digital photography and web design.
For years I have been having dreams where I am in trouble, but I can’t get help because when I open my mouth to scream, nothing or very little comes out. And when I pick up the phone to call the police, there is no dial tone, or I can’t dial the numbers right, or I’m put on hold.
Last month I had a really scary dream. My husband and I were house hunting, and we stopped at a Dunkin Donuts for a drink and a quick bite to eat. I suppose I finished up, because my dream then skips ahead to where I’m outside of the restaurant, waiting for Dan. Suddenly, a large man comes toward me, and next thing I know, I’m on the ground. He is on top of me, tearing at my clothes while he is holding me down. Like in my other dreams, I try to scream, and very little comes out.
The man almost has my pants off, and I’m getting exhausted from fighting him. I try to scream again, and all that comes out is a barely whispered, “Daniel”.
Yet my husband, who is probably several hundred feet away, and inside of a store nonetheless, hears my cries. And he rescues me.
Last night I had another dream. In this one, I was here in my own home. Or at least, what looked like my own home. Except that the kids didn’t exist, and there were a bunch of people here – some other girls, my husband, and a man. A man who, scarily enough, resembled someone who molested me on multiple occasions when I was younger. Now this is where things get weird. My husband momentarily disappeared, and so did all of the other girls. It was just this man and myself. He was in another room, and I was trying on a new shirt and skirt. I’m in the bathroom that’s in our bedroom, and as I hear the man approach, I panic and shut the door and try to lock it. Of course, it won’t lock. The man is in the bedroom now, and I start screaming. Amazingly, my screams were at full volume, and reverberated around me and in the small room I was in. The man is at the door, pushing on it while I’m holding it shut with all of my weight and strength.
Suddenly, I step back, and the man, not expecting the sudden giving of the door, comes crashing in with it. I make an attempt to lunge past him, but he grabs me around my legs and tackles me to the floor. I hit my head on a piece of furniture on the way down, and I’m laying there, stunned and dizzy as he starts groping me, putting his hands under my top and squeezing my breasts, grabbing at my skirt and pulling it up.
Then, for whatever reason, he backs off just long enough for me to get up and run out the door. I fly down the hallway and into the kitchen. There’s Daniel, just having come in from outside. I’m in his arms and then behind him as he launches himself at the guy who was hot on my heels.
So okay, dream analyzers. What’s the deal with me having dreams where Daniel saves me from my would-be-rapist?
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