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it's been so long since i've written on here... my feet are numb, my head feels like a balloon, and my eyes are blurring over. those are my symptoms of panic. i start to panic when i'm dealing with stuff. or trying not to deal with stuff.
my nightmares are back, and they're worse than ever. my cousin, who molested me when i was 12, is in almost every dream i have, whether a nightmare or not. he's beside me every step of the way. it's so creepy. i don't know how to describe it. in one dream, he was pouring me a drink and making me a sandwich, of all things! in another, he was bowling with me. he's the monkey on my back.
often, though, my nightmares take a different turn. in college, i was sexually assaulted by two men at once. lately, two turns into four, six, eight, ten, eventually i can't count them, and nobody will help me, and i'm trying to scream for help, but i can't, you can imagine why, and so i'm crying, and my husband has to wake me up because i can't wake myself up. i'm so fully in these dreams, i come out fighting, sure they're real.
these days i find myself wishing i wasn't a survivor. i find myself wishing i were gone, wishing i could give up the fight. but i have a son to fight for. it's exhausting. i'm exhausted.
my nightmares are back, and they're worse than ever. my cousin, who molested me when i was 12, is in almost every dream i have, whether a nightmare or not. he's beside me every step of the way. it's so creepy. i don't know how to describe it. in one dream, he was pouring me a drink and making me a sandwich, of all things! in another, he was bowling with me. he's the monkey on my back.
often, though, my nightmares take a different turn. in college, i was sexually assaulted by two men at once. lately, two turns into four, six, eight, ten, eventually i can't count them, and nobody will help me, and i'm trying to scream for help, but i can't, you can imagine why, and so i'm crying, and my husband has to wake me up because i can't wake myself up. i'm so fully in these dreams, i come out fighting, sure they're real.
these days i find myself wishing i wasn't a survivor. i find myself wishing i were gone, wishing i could give up the fight. but i have a son to fight for. it's exhausting. i'm exhausted.
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it's been a while...
on Dec 11 2010 10:29 PM
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