my dreams
I wonder why it is that people only want to hear about dreams that are humorous or entertaining in some way...
I've had some pretty funny dreams, that were scary at the time, but upon further reflection, were just a bit silly.
The dreams I've been having of late, are just scary. The recurrence has seemed to pass over the last couple of days, but the images they bore are still lingering in the back of my mind, flashing every now and then when I dare to peek behind the curtain I'm holding closed.
I find it interesting the way people react when you tell them you've been having horrible dreams. Their immediate response is usually, "What about?" So, I tell them. Abuse. Rape. Victimization in all kinds of forms. And when they can't immediately come up with something to say (because they don't know what to say), they just reply with, "...oh. well. that sucks." And I just have to agree because it does.
Every morning I would wake, filled with apprehension and a tightening in my chest. I would spend most of the morning reminding myself that it was only a dream. If only it were just a dream and not a once-upon-a-time reality.
These dreams...they were just...horrible. Being beaten, until nearly unconscious, then raped by the man who was once forcing himself upon me as a father figure, while my mom stood by and instructed my bondage. Every night for nearly a week.
It's just a dream, right?
I've had some pretty funny dreams, that were scary at the time, but upon further reflection, were just a bit silly.
The dreams I've been having of late, are just scary. The recurrence has seemed to pass over the last couple of days, but the images they bore are still lingering in the back of my mind, flashing every now and then when I dare to peek behind the curtain I'm holding closed.
I find it interesting the way people react when you tell them you've been having horrible dreams. Their immediate response is usually, "What about?" So, I tell them. Abuse. Rape. Victimization in all kinds of forms. And when they can't immediately come up with something to say (because they don't know what to say), they just reply with, "...oh. well. that sucks." And I just have to agree because it does.
Every morning I would wake, filled with apprehension and a tightening in my chest. I would spend most of the morning reminding myself that it was only a dream. If only it were just a dream and not a once-upon-a-time reality.
These dreams...they were just...horrible. Being beaten, until nearly unconscious, then raped by the man who was once forcing himself upon me as a father figure, while my mom stood by and instructed my bondage. Every night for nearly a week.
It's just a dream, right?