Tuesday, August 4, 2009
I was looking for a document this afternoon and I came across a paper that had a few of my dreams written down on it. As far as I can tell, it's from spring of 2002.
The dreams are pretty obvious in their meanings. They are saturated with blatant themes of abuse, broken trust, vulnerability, fear, abandonment. One of them I still remember *quite* vividly.
On a day to day basis, as you can see in the post below, I struggle with accepting that what happened to me was "really abuse" or believing that it was bad. I minimize it. I question my memory. I question my own involvement in what happened. I am ashamed that it's still an issue in my life. I blame myself. In my heart, I still do.
It is only when I have dreams such as these that I can allow in the possibility that maybe, just maybe, I was really abused. Maybe it really did happen the way I remember it. Maybe it really was bad and maybe everything I've gone through was not my own fault. I think I may be afraid that I've made it up or embellished it in my own mind since everyone else downplayed it. When I have these dreams that my conscious mind has no control over then I think yes, something definitely happened and I'm not making it up.
Why do I need dreams in order to believe my reality??