Rather Not Write About It

I feel like I should write, but don’t really want to write about the first thing that comes to mind.  I could satisfy the urge to write by ranting on about something else I read on the internet.  But that is pretty lame.  Instead I will write about that first thing that came to mind.  That is my dreams.

It is that time when I don’t want to sleep, because of the dreams I will have.   Not so much about what I actually dream, but what the dream is revealing to me.  This is the time when things come to the surface that I don’t want to think about.  Things that where buried in my mind so far that they didn’t exist anymore to me.

These kind of dreams don’t happen every night I sleep.  But once they start, they happen every night until it resolves itself.  I find as I drift off to sleep, my arms or legs will twitch to keep me from sleeping and things, for the lack of a better term, take on a dark quality.

As I sleep, I start dreaming and the dream is very lucid.  Often times it seems that the dream goes on for a very long time.  At some point, I will suddenly wake up.  I look at the clock and the same amount of time has passed when I have the dreams.  That is one hour.

That is the distressing part is that it has only been a hour.   Realizing that it will be a few hours before daylight and I am in the dark with what the dream revealed to me.

What do I dream about?  I dream about my childhood and the abuse I went through, my time in the military and other things I lived through and wanted to forget.  I will have the same dream but with variations every night and all of the sudden it will no longer happen.  I go back to dreaming and not remembering what I dream about when I wake up.

What I do find when I reach the point that the dream no longer happens is a sense of peace about what I dreamed about.  It is like the dreams where my way of working through and accepting it instead of denying it.

Now that it has happen several times, I feel this conflict in me.  One part of me doesn’t want to sleep and dream about it.  The other part wants to sleep and work through it.

But that is not what I really don’t want to write about.  It is what happening in the dreams I am having right now.  I am not going to write what is happening in the dream for two reasons.  One is pretty graphic and the other is that what actually happen isn’t what bothered me.  It is who did it to me that bothers me.

The betrayal of these people by what they did to me.  People that I mistakenly thought cared about me.  That afterwords made me really question who I could trust and be safe.  That resulted in the rest of my childhood and into adulthood spending it in a constant state of fear and anxiety worrying that it would happen again.  That I interacted with outside world and people as little as possible.  Preferring to live in a world of my mind where people didn’t do things like that and I felt safe.

Even in adulthood,  I would feel lonely and want to interact with people.  I would have the courage to reach out to people, but found finding reasons or making them up to cut the ties.  I was afraid that history would repeat itself and better to play it safe if the person became too close.

That is what I don’t want to write about really.  There is some pride here.  I don’t want to talk about my childhood and being a young adult and being in the state constantly.  How pathetic and wasted that time was being that way.  How things would often fall apart because I am human and would need someone’s help but afraid to ask for that help.

But there is nothing to be ashamed or look down on myself for that.  It was not a reflection of me what happen to me.  Just unfortunate and bad luck that I grew up in that environment that lead to what happen to me.  I think anybody else in the exact same situation would have reacted the same way and gone through something similar.

I am just happy now that I am at a point where I can feel that I can trust people again.  Interact with the world again and leave behind my inner world behind.  Knowing also that people that I interact with can be good people but also bad ones.  It is just the way life and people are at times.

That fear and anxiety that keep me from interacting with people is no longer as strong.  It is still there and will always be there.  I know what people can do to me and that is good reason to be fearful and anxious.   It warns me to be careful at times.  That is something in some ways I am thankful for having now.