Recurrent nightmares 1/3
In one series of nightmares, I remember having a second apartment and forgetting to pay the rent for several months. I go to Brooklyn to find the apartment. Someone else is living in it.
The street door of the apartments in my dreams never fit into the doorframe. The deadbolt won't align with the strike plate. The door chains won't reach. The ceilings leak. The rent outstanding is over $100,000.
Recurrent nightmares 2/3
In another series, I'm still living with my parents. My mother is angry with me for some reason–perhaps I didn't perform some chore perfectly or earn enough money. She demands reparations for my having robbed her of the years she spent raising me. If I run away, she runs after me.
Whatever the reason for her anger, I look forward to the day when I will have nothing more to do with my family.
Recurrent nightmares 3/3
Then I remember that I no longer live with my parents. They died relatively young. Still, I cannot banish that household's oppressive, angry atmosphere from memory.
In my family, either you had completed your chores or you had done nothing. It was virtually impossible to complete a task with the requisite fastidiousness. Since there was no question of incremental progress, it was pointless to participate.
