My dream last night was horrifying at the time. I played as Kevin for a little while, and usually, I really love dreams where I'm playing as him, but last night wasn't very fun at all. He didn't "come out" until after some crazy things started happening to me. I was in a very dark, weak, and poorly built house. The hallways were small and the lights that did work barely did. The structure was made of decaying dark wood that looked badly water-damaged. A family had taken residence there, even though I was certain that the house belonged to me, and I knew that had invaded my home and lived there without my consent, and I felt very upset because of it, especially because they were trying to kick me out. On the wall was the only sign that I had ever lived there-- decorative posters with some of my favorite video games. I have such things on my walls in my own apartment.

I got to know the family, but not very well. I remember specifically a thin elderly woman living there, and a young mentally handicapped boy. I could feel dreadful things when in the house, like I knew something terrible was happening or about to. James was there, but barely.

I began to feel panicky, which I often do in dreams. The posters on my wall would change into something else every time I looked at them, and each time, they were sketches of mine, and I knew they were mine because they were my style of artwork. I was very scared of this, for the drawings continued to warp and change, and even though it was obvious I drew them, they looked more and more menacing, and I didn't remember drawing them that way. I began to scream that I was going crazy and I was hallucinating. James tried to convince me otherwise, saying the drawings had always been there, which didn't keep me from panicking.

My personality began routinely swapping like I had them on an assembly line. I could tell I was Kevin for some of it, the loving and gentle man who tries his best not to hurt people, especially the ones he loves, but he became angry at something. I can't remember what, but it had a lot to do with the family living in my house. He vowed to "do something about it," and it felt like I was off to the side listening to him, even though I was playing him. Usually, mine and Kevin's thoughts coincide with each other's, and it's more like I'm playing my own thoughts but as a male, or I'm following him somewhere important that he's trying to take me, usually to keep me safe, but he was suddenly different last night.

Kevin then wasn't Kevin anymore, which I suppose is a good thing, considering that I may have felt even more uncomfortable looking at myself in the mirror to see Kevin's kind and tranquil eyes so full of rage. He became someone, or someTHING else, or rather I did-- A very cruel and hateful younger man, and normally I would think this was Andrew, but he didn't look like him, and he didn't act like him. I felt too much hate and anger when being him, and I knew that he was different; separate from my much-loved creations. He was enraged and willing to kill, which is something neither Kevin or Andrew is capable of.

Able to now predict the actions of the squatters in my house through interpreting the drawings on the wall, I (as the young man) began to realize that they planned to hurt me somehow, or even kill me. Perhaps this was just me/him justifying his proceeding actions. The house, already dark on the inside, became even darker, and the walls looked dilapidated and broken, but this didn't stop me from turning against those who took it from me. As I walked around a field, I think after coming home from some event, possibly school, I thought about ways I would slaughter them, mostly thinking of the most painful ways possible. I saw a large hay cutter on my way to the house that nearly missed running over a small animal, like a rabbit. I remember wishing that it had hit it, just so I could see it and feel satisfied.

Once back to the house, I can't remember how I did it exactly, but I turned the family members into hateful pieces of shit, too. I believe it involved photographs or something, or I had taken something precious from them. I can't remember what, since this part of the dream is the fuzziest, since the alarm ripped me out of sleep before it could end. I made them suffer somehow, like making them feel worthless and terrible by some means, and I think I may have woken up before I actually killed them. I remember other little scenes involving train tracks and the grocery store, but those two things are extremely common in my dreams. I've seen many trains and stores in my dreams, enough where I'm unable to count them.

I was relieved to be woken up, but at the same time, I felt disturbingly dissatisfied with not getting to see the ending. As terrified as I was by everything, I wanted to go back to sleep to dream it again. Even though I did fall asleep once more, I wasn't able to dream again.

Since this isn't the first time I've dreamed about being in a house of this nature, I've always been interested in what it means. Usually, when I'm in a house, it is built this way-- it's falling apart and barely standing on the outside, like it had been abandoned many years ago. Inside the house, it's always dark, eerie, unpleasant, and extremely cold. Every once in a while there is the sound of dripping water, or water running down the walls. The structure is almost always made of wood, or has wood flooring. Something horrible always happens in it, or I see something that terrifies me, usually rape or murder and sometimes both. I do not always feel angry when inside, in fact, usually I'm too scared to go too deep into the house, because I can feel something awful hiding somewhere in it, like a locked room is keeping a monster from escaping. Many times I have fled from these houses, sometimes before going inside and sometimes after. If it is before, it's because I heard something from inside that frightened me, most of the time screaming sounds. If it is after, it's because I witnessed a terrible event or saw images of things I really didn't like.

The house in my dreams has cropped up so many times, and although it is always in the same shape, broken down and uncared for, it is never the same type of house. Sometimes it's a small shack or cabin, and then other times it'll be a two-story Victorian, but it's never the same type. The state of the house, however, remains exactly the same.

So I looked up what a house represents in a dream.
They usually symbolise our emotional and psychological selves. All of your experiences, stages of development, and parts of your conscious and unconscious life may be represented by that house. The house may be representing issues concerning a particular dilemma in your life, or it may be more general and comprehensive.
To dream that your house is broken into suggests that you are feeling violated. It may refer to a particular relationship or current situation in your life. Alternatively, it indicates that some unconscious material is attempting to make itself known. There are some aspects of yourself that you have denied.

The frightening thing to me is, if it is emulating a dilemma, I don't know what that dilemma is. Since it often feels like I'm in danger of being harmed when in these houses, or threatened by something, or scared and vulnerable, it only raises my curiosity even further. Things like this concern me, and I know that dreams like this will never end. The houses frighten me, and I feel like I have only gathered the courage once or twice to go deep into them. I never, ever go to the attic or basement when in these houses, I'm too scared, or in this case, too angry and focused on causing pain to people I feel have wronged me, even though they seemed even more vulnerable and innocent than me. An old woman and a handicapped boy are two things I consider innocent, and yet, I could feel hatred for them.

I had two dreams last night, and this was the second one. The dream prior to this was of Kevin having sex with a young Clint Eastwood (I had watched the Good, the Bad, and the Ugly just before going to sleep, but I was not expecting that to happen). I never considered that an option, really, but after seeing it, I was entertained and found it amusing. At least there was a lighter side to the evening, which I needed.

Needless to say, I have been depressed lately, and usually when I am, dreams like this tend to repeat themselves. I've felt very low self-worth and even worse self-esteem, and even though I've had this problem all of my life, it's been cropping up as an even worse condition these days. I wish I had the money to seek therapy.

Another thing I've noticed a trend of is violence. Most of my dreams are either sexual or violent, and usually both at the same time. Either I feel vulnerable and scared, or angry and bloodthirsty. I rarely have any good dreams anymore, and when I do, they're campy and easy to laugh at, and I'm relieved when I have them.