Skip Dreams

When I am feeling particularly stressed out, I have Skip dreams.

Once upon a time, a very long time ago, I was married to a man named Skip. He had a real name, but few people knew what it was and he never used it. Our relationship began when I was very young, ignorant, and still living with my parents. I really, really wanted to get out of the house, so moving in with Skip seemed like a good idea. I was a dumb kid.

I wanted to get a divorce for a long time before I finally did, and by the time we parted I was such a mess that I was having near hallucinations. When he moved out, I started having bad dreams that he was back.

When I have Skip dreams these days, it signals to me that I am much more upset about things than I am aware of. The funny thing right now is that I am fully tuned in (or so I thought) to just how uncomfortable, unhappy, and anxious for change I am, and am doing everything in my power to make good things happen. I have so many irons in the fire at this moment, I could burst into flames.

Dreaming about Skip is just unfair. He wasn’t abusive in a physical way, he was passive aggressive and was like a PhD program in manipulation. He did things just to drive me crazy and took delight in pushing my buttons. He was terribly dependent and unmotivated, sneaky and untrustworthy, and chemically addicted. He was also smart, funny, and could be tender and kind. His life was a series of disasters that he never saw coming. I was always taking care of things, cleaning up after him, and running myself ragged. We spent eight years together before I finally divorced him and he pretended he was wounded.

That was twenty years ago. I dreamed about him the other night, and as always, once I woke up it took a while for my brain to remember that. It is unsettling to revisit; it makes me kind of jumpy for a few days.

As I look out the window at the rain falling, I am thinking about how much I am looking forward to moving on.