Last night I had another nightmare about facing that woman (and her husband, my friend and co-worker) that got me my last job, the one I screwed-up and left. This time the dream was a little more protracted and I faced the ex-boss as well. Can’t believe I’m still on that roll. It’s like having to watch the World Series. Night after night. It never ends. Maybe I need to do it; have that talk with her. Get it over with. Face my fears. Ugh. It still not only feels premature, but rationalizes out that way, too. One step at a time. Don’t want to over-do it. Put the cart before the horse.

Another ex in another ongoing sleeptime drama was faced last night, as well. The ex wife. Why am I still having bad dreams populated by her? Why now? The theory that first comes to everybody’s mind is not unlike the one posited above: maybe it’s time to deal with the issue head-on and unflinchingly. No more avoiding. But I don’t think I do that kind of avoiding…exactly…but maybe drinking, going out, snorting coke, smoking crack…even smoking cigarettes, were an escape to a hurt-free zone. Stands to reason but it never felt that way. I was just having fun. Maybe all that fun and focus elsewhere filled-in the spaces where I could have other done some necessary processing. Maybe now that I’m not distracting myself, I’ve got the room and clarity to see it flood in on top of me. Stands to reason, but look at my months in Guatemala–there was plenty of sober time and space there (and then again there was Guatemala itself to surround me). I have talked about that relationship and the divorce, I’ve thought about it, I’ve been honest I think, and have felt that in some ways it’s not that big of a deal and in some ways it’s a great thing that it ended. Going back to filthy residues and build-up, what is it about this that sticks, then? Though fogged-over now, I remember that the dream involved somehow not looking stupid in front of her. When I think about what did and/or does bother me about her and my time with her, a couplefew things come to mind: how impossible she was in many ways during the early years, how un-affectionate and undemonstrative she was the whole time, and how I was unfairly and inaccurately I was made out to be the bad guy. Without telling me how or giving any specifics, I’ve had at least one third party confirm that last one. Those are the bitters that immediately come to mind. My wanting her to see my success might be keyed into that last item. That drive feels childish, though. I don’t know: maybe there’s something deep and disturbing from that experience that is still obscured to me, or maybe these blips and bleeps are the normal after-static of divorce.