My Stalker Dream

The other day, I had a vivid dream that I had 2 stalkers.

The first stalker happened to be an ex from high school.

The second stalker I did not know, but my ex gave me his name when I figured out that he was following me, and was told that this person was in on it too.  The name stuck with me in my waking life, vividly [for the sake of that person’s privacy I will not post their name here].  It was a name I never heard of or have seen, and despite the complex spelling of the last name, I knew the pronunciation.

The other part of the dream went like this – I was at my parent’s house, when an older dark blue Jeep Grand Cherokee pulled in front of the house.  The person got out, and immediately I knew it was the stalker.  I attempted to call 911, but got an automated message of, “911 please hold, we will be with you shortly.  If you are calling from (a certain town/area?) please hang up and dial (random phone number).”  I let the hold music play, while remarking, “This is awful!  This is an emergency!”

As the man got closer to the house, he made eye contact with me staring out the window. I knew I had to face him, and didn’t want to endanger my family by him entering.  So I hung up my phone, and went outside.

There was some sort of vague exchange of words, and I immediately took a fighting stance.  I wanted him to make the first move though.  He did, tackling me to the ground, and strangling me.  I was trying to get my legs around his neck to strangle him back, as I knew my legs were stronger.  In the background, police sirens began to approach.  Then I woke up.

When I woke up, I felt groggy and drained.  I could only imagine how much I must have been tossing and turning in my sleep with a dream like that.  The name of the “stalker” was still vividly stuck in my brain.  At first I resisted, but then I caved – I searched the name on Facebook.

What I expected to find was a list of people I did not know, that had zero resemblance to the man from my dream.  What startled me was that the very first result, with no mutual friends or connections, was the very man from my dream.  Even worse, his cover photo was the interior of the back of a Jeep (with skateboards).  Consulting with my car-savvy fiancé, he confirmed that yes, it was a Jeep, and the wood trim was part of a limited trim.  I asked if it came in a dark blue, and his eyes widened.  He said he thought so, and a quick Google search confirmed it.

This was already creepy enough.  But the thing about this random person’s profile was that it showed no exterior shots of the Jeep.  There’s no logical way I would have been able to link together a dark blue Jeep Grand Cherokee with him, had he appeared on my Facebook suggested friends or something before.

Then it got even weirder.

It turns out that yes, this person lives in Connecticut (same state).  In fact, he lives in one of the towns where we were looking at houses.  Some further digging showed that he even writes books!

I was in awe at all of this.  And then, it started to make some more sense.

I have been asking the Universe lately for a sign.  A sign of what it is that I am to do with my life.  And the answer (since third grade, basically) has been to write.  But I could never quite convince myself that it was truly my calling.  I have been playing into doubts and denial, convincing myself that writing for a living was entirely unrealistic.  I wasn’t a “good enough” writer.  After all, who would want to read my stuff anyway?

The dream put me directly into connection with someone near me who did it.  They got a book published.  And if they could do it, why was I limiting myself?

Whether or not there is any or more meaning to drag out of the dream remains unseen.  But from it, I learned that I am letting others strangle me of my own potential, by allowing fear and doubt to dominate my passion.  I can follow my heart and do what I feel I was meant to do.  I can create.  I can write.

This “stalker” dream came at the right time, where I was most prone to listen.  And while logic and science can try to fill in the gaps (you remember every face you see, perhaps Facebook picked up on our searches and he became a suggestion, etc), I feel what I have gotten from the dream is invaluable.

So thank you and shout out to my “stalker” for getting me back into writing again.  And thank you to the Universe for giving me really awesome, undeniable signs so I can continue on the right paths.  And thank you all, for being an awesome community of genuinely amazing people, who inspire me to keep going.

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