I dreamed my son was dead.
I was off the ground, floating. It seemed I was visiting the dream from a time or place that was either far into the future from that dream, or beyond it in some way. The time of the dream itself was at least 5 years in the future from today's actual date.
It was a partly lucid dream. All of my dreams are at least partially lucid, and have been since I was a small girl. I had control over myself, but chose to interact with the dream without changing anything as it felt important.
My current boyfriend, and the father of my child, was showing me his house. He had a wife, his house was beautiful, and I felt happy to see it. There were lots of toys around, and all the tell-tale signs that happy, playful children had been there regularly. I was looking around, asking mundane questions about things I noticed, and our conversation was light and casual. He seemed a bit emotionally distant, but it felt like given the context, that was to be expected.
Excitedly, I asked to see our son's room. I felt like I hadn't seen him in a long time, and I wanted to see who he had become and what he had been doing.
He showed me his room, and it was a normal bedroom for a child of 5-7 to have. There were some doodles on the wall near the bed, toys laying around. It was messy, as it should be. I was thrilled to see that he had a movie collection, and the TV was still on! I asked where he was, not actually expecting to see him, as the house was oddly deserted. I noticed that my boyfriend was looking down at the floor, with some painful sadness on his face. I noticed then that the room seemed... musty. Like it hadn't been touched in a long time. Something wasn't right. My boyfriend didn't answer.
I asked again, more firmly this time, "Where is he? ...Mike. Look at me. What happened to Kyle?"
He looked at me with such bitterness. Such regret and hate. He half smiled as he got up and said "You want to know what happened. You want to know, really?"
Then he crossed the room quickly to the closet and flung open the door and hung his head to look at the floor. A child's body, lifeless and slightly stiff, fell forward and half-crumpled on the floor at his feet. I couldn't see the child's face. He turned to me and yelled, his face so twisted from emotion, and crying.
"YOU DID THIS!"
I heard screaming, and I woke up with my mouth open. I was shaking, my heart was pounding, and I was crying. I haven't had a dream that horrible, that put so much fear into me, since I was a little kid. I recently started therapy and counseling for school-related anxiety, stress and problems surrounding a previous abusive relationship. This is so that I can hopefully finish school some day, and attend college. I dropped out in grade 11 because of anxiety, nightmares, insomnia... various issues around school not related to the school work itself, but that are otherwise undetermined.
My son was born just before Christmas, and he's doing fantastic. I've had no trouble caring for him. His father and I recently decided not to live together for a while so we can each sort out some personal stuff before trying again to live as a family. We rushed into it when we discovered that I was pregnant, and neither of us was really ready to live with the other. He's 24, and I'm 19. We are currently still dating, and live in separate units in the same apartment building.
I don't understand this dream. It feels like a warning, but I would never. NEVER. Bring harm to my son. Much less kill him and leave him in a closet. The dream doesn't actually show what happened, just the aftermath and that it was my fault somehow. I'm confused, scared, and deeply upset by it. I'm scared to tell anyone in case they decide I'm crazy or a danger or something.
This is my first post here. What are your thoughts?
