I don’t know if any of what follows will be triggering, but just in case…

Nightmare – was in a house full of people – seemed they were people I liked and it was not uncomfortable.  All my babies were there…tho’ in different forms.  then someone came to me and warned me that evil asshole was in the house.

I tried to hide.  This is what I did for months and months…I hid and locked myself and my kitties up in my room – avoiding him at all costs.  And here in my dream I was trying to avoid him…he got in because one of my “guests” had left the door open so he could walk right in.  I can’t think of a better description of a flying monkey.

Finally, after dodging him over and over, he cornered me.  I refused to look at him.  I think, subconsciously, I knew that looking into his eyes was paramount to looking into something foul and dirty.  I curled up in the corner and he loomed over me…pushing at me…forcing himself on me (as he’d always done in various ways) I put up my hand on his chest, trying to push him away, but he kept leaning in.  He was violating me, my space…

I was trying to say “get away from me” “go away” and probably other things I can’t remember…but he wouldn’t.  And my voice failed…it was blank.  Barely even a whisper…I kept trying…hoping my voice would catch and my words would be heard.  And all my “guests” just went about their business as if nothing were happening.

And as in real life…no one came to my rescue…no one said anything…everyone let him be the evil asshole that he is.  And finally I slipped away from him…and the “guests” were leaving…and leaving the door open so my cats were getting out.

It’s all very telling symbolism…at least to me.  And ultimately, I don’t need anyone to rescue me…tho’ from time to time it is a nice thought…to have someone see me…to have someone understand without having to explain it all…and to have someone stand up for me as no one ever has.

Perhaps that’s why this is so important to me.  No one was there for me…(and this can be taken way the hell back into my childhood).  No one rescued me.  No one stood up for me (except my grandpa).  I want to be a voice for more than just myself…and so, I need to find my voice.  Oh, I can write things…but there’s something in the spoken word.

I had worried that going to therapy was just going to be keeping wounds open, but it seems that I was correct in pursuing it…it will help me in some way.  And as I pursue my public-speaking life, that will come into play.

My dreams have always been very insightful…and their meanings usually very clear to me…sometimes not for years to come, but I have always, eventually, gotten the message.

 

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