“The House In The Woods”

This blog is first in a five-part series titled “The Dream”, a write-up I did of a very vivid dream I had. Even though it wasn't specifically about the Disease, the dream’s subject—feeling  different, inhuman—is something all those of us who suffer from addiction can relate to.

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It was a party, a huge bash. Not just a party, but the annual celebration which was held for no other reason or cause than the occasion itself. I had been invited, or asked to be there, or brought along--I’m not sure; when the dream began, I was already there and it was already happening all around me. It was dark out, and I knew we would be going all through the night.

We were at a house in the woods, far away from any distracting influences. The house wasn’t large, but it was big enough for the fifty or so of us. I assume there were folks hanging out outside, but I can’t tell you what the house looked like because I spent almost all my time inside it.

I knew there was no one around for miles, though. We were far removed from any other people, out where we wouldn’t bother others and they couldn’t bother us. In fact, now that I think back on it, I’m fairly certain there were no other people, period, just myself and those there at the party. There weren’t any other buildings, either, only the people and the party at the house in the woods. Nothing else existed.

There wasn’t anything significant about the people there. No particular overall detail stands out to me, except maybe that almost all of them seemed to be around my age. Perhaps there were children and elderly people, but I don’t remember any. There were men, women. They may have been of multiple races, I don’t know; it didn’t seem important. We were all there and we were all just a group of good folk having one hell of a good time.