In the dream, the chef was a heroin addict and we were in Lakewood being chased by who I assume were drug dealers that he owed money to. When we stopped the car, they approached his window and punched thru, violently beating him, all while I sat in the backseat pregnant & screaming. Fast forward in my awful nightmare and my dad is sitting in front of me explaining that the Chef's mother had sent him to Georgia and I would be raising the boy and the baby girl myself. Needless to say, I did not go back to sleep.
I watched some terrible tv (i.e Dawson's Creek) and then I thought about the dream for way more than I probably should have.
Someone very close to me battled a horrible heroin addiction for a very long time (which I am guessing influenced my dream). He was horrible when he was high and did things that no human being should ever subject someone they love to. I never talk about it on here because I refuse to give it the energy I did when he was going through it. He is 'recovered' now although I think he has a long long way to go until he is truly completely through with the addiction, if he ever is.
My dream just put my husband's face on the H beast and it made me so insane. I put him in every situation that I ever had to deal with my addict friend. Not very pleasant at all. All day today I can't seem to get past it. I forgot some of the weird shit that comes along with being knocked up. I always thought I liked the kooky dreams in the last trimester but now with this baby girl I think I hate them.