When Your Subconscious is Telling You, You’ve Made The Right Decision

It’s been……well hell, I can’t remember the last blog post about Lestat, and as Martha Steward would say, “That’s a good thing!”

Anyway, I’ve had my therapy sessions with my amazing therapist Terri, and we’ve gone over several other issues in my life, one of which she brought to my attention only recently about how I, had severe daddy issues hence why I chose Lestat as the man to hang onto for so long.  Believe me, I was floored when she pointed that out, and she had examples too, like a goddamned Power Point presentation and shit, but that’s a post for another time.

This post is about dreams and our subconscious, and how at times we fail to see things, clues and signs if you will from our daily lives. That’s our subconscious kicks (I emphasize the kick) in when we are at rest to let us know that we in fact, have made the right decisions.  I have had, in the last three months, some pathetically meager attempts by Lestat to get in contact with me.  He can’t try to call or text me via my personal cell phone because I have him blocked.  And he isn’t technologically astute enough to try and find my work email because unless it has to do with porn, he won’t look online to fine that either.  So he’s resorted to leaving me voicemails at work, because he’d memorized my work phone number or he was able to access this from his contacts list.  In any case, I’ve had several short voicemail messages from him telling me he misses me, that he wished I’d just talk to him or that even a short text message would do, to make him feel better.

No need, I already know your a lying, cheating, scumbag douche

Did you hear that?  To make HIM feel better, all this time or should I say the entire time we were together it was always about HIM.  There has never been a time when it’s been about me or us, my entire twenty years with him had always been about HIM, how HE felt, how HE wanted things and how I HURT his stupid ass.  It never ceases to amaze me how narcs think…….about themselves…..always.

Well, that was before, but now, meh….

Well, because I refuse to deal with him in any shape or form, I found out how to send his number direct to voicemail so when and if he does keep calling, I won’t see it.  Any communication on my part is detrimental to my relationship sobriety, I can’t risk opening communication with him whatsoever because I know him too well.  He’ll try to explain all kinds of shit and even though I’m no longer in love with him, as my therapist put it, I’m not out of the woods just yet.  She explained that being on this relationship sobriety is extremely important because of the dysfunctionality (yes this is a word, I just made up) of what we had together might still come into play if I communicate with him.

And I understand her concerns since I believe I am no longer a sucker for his charm and bullshit.  But anyway, onto my subconscious and the warning it gave me, so as mentioned I got a short, very emotional voicemail on Friday afternoon, and all it said was (in his breathy-I don’t know what to say-type voice) “Damn! I miss you so much” and then hung up.  I listened to it, deleted it and went about my day.  Which meant that I changed here at work to go run with a friend after wards.  Seriously, he really does think I’ll be a sucker for his smooth talk.

But after my short run, I got home and I felt emotionally and physically exhausted.  So I took a shower, had some herbal tea, watched my Friday night shows (Dateline/NBC and 20/20/ABC) and went to bed.  On Saturday I woke up from a horrible dream, and thought to myself the stupid voicemail triggered this episode of subconscious drama.  I had a dream that I was at some sort of social event with tons of people and food.  I was all dolled up for some reason, wearing a floor length, off one shoulder cocktail dress in the only color I can describe as “Tiffany Blue.”  You know, the color of the gift boxes from Tiffany’s?

That in itself is weird as fuck, but I digress.  I schmoozed with people and said hi to apparently friends I recognized and then it happened, in my dream Lestat was there, staring at me, but at his side he had a very young twenty or thirty-something girl.  She looked excited, and as mentioned very young, of course I knew this wasn’t his wife because that bitch looks like Fiona Shrek.  He stared at me as he leaned in to give her a kiss on the lips.  But he wouldn’t break his stare and I turned around and talked with a couple of other friends from my dream.  All through the night of that celebration (in my dream) I was happy and carefree, all the while Lestat and Gidget (that’s what I’m calling his imaginary girlfriend in my dream) were always within eyesight of where I was.  And he’d always make sure that I’d see him kiss her, put his hand on her back, or hug her and all the times he’d be doing this, he’d turn around to see if I was watching him.  In my relationship with him, he did this twice to me when I’d break up with him to try and pursue a serious relationship with someone else.  He’d show up with some young barfly, whom I found out later on he paid to “escort” him to some place he knew I’d be.

It’s a desperate ploy that both men and women use to try and stir up emotions of jealousy, hate or dismay from their former partner.  In my dream I found myself walking around in my beautiful Robin’s egg colored gown, with a champagne flute in my hand talking and laughing with other people, ignoring Lestat and his desperate ploy for my attention.  At the end of my dream I walked up a huge flight of ornate stares, they were white marble with veins of silver and gold throughout (hell, I’m amazed at the fact that I remember this small intricate detail from a flight of stairs in my dream) and the banisters were wood painted white with gold trim.

I held onto the banister with one hand and my gown with the other as I turned to look down at the crowd below, with people whisping by me going up and down the stairs.  I looked down and saw Lestat with Gidget, she was smiling and talking to people around her, and Lestat just looked up at me, his face completely devoid of expression as I walked up to God knows where in this place in my dream.  And I just looked past him, at other people I recognized, smiled waved goodbye and as I did, Lestat walked away from Gidget and left her there in the crowd among strangers.  I could see him walk out a huge glass door with wrought iron work, out into the night and I felt a sense of relief somehow.

Well in my dream I felt it, when I woke up Saturday morning I was pissed as hell because I hate dreaming about shit like that.  Anyway, yesterday I went to go see my therapist, and I told her about my dream, as always very calm she wrote in her pad, as she held her personalized silver engraved pen to her lips.  She closed her pad and said to me, “Other than being angry when you woke up, and the fact that you remembered such detail about your dream.  Do you know what this dream might signify?”

Okay am I the only one that sees a cloud with horns?

I told her I did not, and that I too was surprised at all the small details about my dream, the color and style of my dress, the ornate stare case, the large glass and wrought iron doors, the banister, the champagne glass I was holding.  People I felt I knew in my dream but didn’t recognize when I woke up.  The smell of my favorite perfume (Calvin Klein’s Woman) and the way I walked up the stairs holding my beautiful gown.

She looked at me, sat back in her new over-sized chair, and cleared her throat to say “Well, I’m going to tell you what it means.  The stairs themselves represent the fact that you are making progress.  The fact that you’re climbing up them is in itself important because it means your progressing towards a higher sense of self awareness.  But the fact that you describe these stairs as being white marble with veins of silver and gold is that you are determined to achieve your goals and that Lestat is no longer one, or even a factor in your life.  You’re wearing a blue evening gown in your dream means you’ve found peace with yourself and situation.  Ignoring Lestat and….what did you call her? Oh Gidget, in your dream means that you are already moving past any attempts he is trying to make to get your attention.  So you see, you are almost at the point to where your relationship sobriety will hit its pinnacle.  Him being there with someone younger, to make you jealous is a vain attempt by him to try and regain what he had with you, some sort of mid-life crisis that he is still having and that he’s now realized that you are the only women that paid attention to him the way you did.  He isn’t getting that from anyone else.  In your dream he’s walking away from Gidget and out those big, ornate doors because you have made up your mind that he is no longer important to you.  It was really you walking out of his life, not the other way around.  And the champagne glass you were holding, well that’s because you’ve mentioned you like champagne and that one day you will find yourself with everything you’ve worked so hard to achieve.”

I opened my mouth to say something but then she added, “Oh also, your subconscious is telling you, no reminding you of what kind of man Lestat is, in case you’ve forgotten.  It’s telling you that no matter what, he’ll always be a cheating, unfaithful man no matter who he’s with or how much he proclaims he loves you.”  I looked at her, feeling kind of skeptical of what she had just said, because she’s a psychiatrist not a dream interpreter, but I found that she was spot on about how I felt.  She told me that every dream I have about Lestat now was only triggered by him trying to contact me. 

She asked me about forgiveness, and I responded with “Forgiveness? Who’s forgiveness?” She said if I had ever considered forgiving Lestat for everything he had done to me.  I told her that I had thought about this very subject just the week before.  I told her that driving home one day I was listening to the song by Don Henley called Heart of the Matter, and in it there’s a line that goes, “But I think it’s about forgiveness, forgiveness, even if, even if you don’t love me anymore.”

And she looked at me, cocked her head to one side and said “Yes, go on….” And I told her that if and this is a big if, Lestat were to ask for my forgiveness I’d might consider it.  But, because I know him so well, he’s not capable of asking for it because he doesn’t believe he did anything wrong.  So therefore, I’m not open to forgiving him, if he himself isn’t willing to reflect and accept all those years of what he put me through was wrong, because deep down he honestly believes he has absolutely no blame.

I asked why she thought only 95% immune to him, because I mean after all it wasn’t like I was about to throw away the entire 17 months of Lestat rehab on one voicemail message.  She said that it takes longer than the 17 months I had read about, because it only applied to relationships that weren’t as long as mine.  Which I suppose made some sense, and I took her gold nuggets of wisdom with me as I left her office, satisfied in the fact that I have one hell of a great therapist.  Also because I’ve come this far in getting away from a self-centered, narcissistic, selfish, self-absorbed man, who only used me for as long as I allowed him to.  I accept that, she’s making sure that I’m where I need to be and that’s as far away from Lestat and his charm and bullshit where it’s no longer kryptonite for me.  I think I’m almost there, but she’s being extra careful and I appreciate that.  So dreams have meaning, and now that I know that every dream I’ve had with every attempt that Lestat’s made in the last year or so have triggered my unconscious reminding me that he, the man I believed at one point was the love of my life, no longer is a factor in mine and I’ve come farther than even I thought I had.

Here’s a song that I believe is an embodiment of my emotional state.  Not just at the moment, but for the majority of my adult, without Lestat, no settling life.  I love Ani DeFranco, she’s one of the most underrated female artists out there.  I don’t consider myself a pretty girl, damsel in distress or waiting for my knight in shining armor.  Because we all know how that turned out, right?  In any case, I think I’m almost there in my Lestat rehab, but according to Terri, I’m hitting the hate stage hard.  But that’s okay with me.

Not a Pretty Girl by Ani DeFranco

P.S I got to work on today and found yet another short voicemail and it said, “Even a go fuck yourself text would work.”  And I’m thinking, no, no he wouldn’t want ME to give him a go fuck yourself text.  Because, I’m not going to be nice or pretend to be cordial in any communication with him.  I think he’d be surprised to know how I’ve evolved in how I feel about him.  Hearing that I’m over him, and how I think of him now would probably come as a surprise to his narc ass.

This is the Huntress915, over and out!