I had the absolute worst dreams last night. The first involved a detailed scenario of my getting amnesia and wandering the world for 4 years. When I finally did regain my memory and go home, it was to find that my husband had had me declared legally dead and remarried. Compared to the second dream, the first was a joyride, trust me.
In the second dream I was working for CPS again. That’s nightmare enough right there, but it kept going. I fell in love with a client and was leaving my husband for him. But then I changed my mind and stayed with my husband. Some friends/relatives of the guy I decided not to go with decided to punish me and Joe. So they tried killing us. I ended up with 4 or 5 gunshot wounds and nearly died, but didn’t. Joe had 3 or 4. And while we were still in the hospital, those people told me they were going to keep trying until we were dead.
I woke up sobbing and wouldn’t let go of Joe’s neck for quite some time until I could manage to calm down. Logically I know that the second dream, at least, was related to A’s death. Even that didn’t lessen the pain, as I thought of my sister being shot to death by police. We had thought that she died at the scene, but learned a few weeks ago that she actually died at the hospital. The police weren’t firing at her, but at AM, the guy she was with who was firing at the police. When they got to the car, they found AM dead and A lying with her head in his lap. When I found that out, I was devastated. I couldn’t bear to think of it. It brought all that grief right back up to the surface.
So it doesn’t surprise me that I dreamed about it in such a horrifying fashion.