Dreams & Nightmares

This Isn’t Where I Thought I’d Be At Thirty-Seven

But in a strange way it’s where I am happy to be, does that make sense? I am content in this place, especially when I am stoned, but more so just in general.

Today in particular was rough, because I had a terrible daymere while sleeping off my new medications.

A man broke into my house, and chased me out into the street where he attempted to take my life, except someone shot him right in front of me….I could just barely feel the blood splatter all over me as the gunshot deafened my ears.

I woke up terribly shook, and sat here all day in a funk, because of how absolutely certain I was just hours before, that I was going to die.

I can’t explain what that feels like, to know in a dream that you are absolutely standing close to death in an instant when seconds before you were just rooting through your mother’s make up case.

The man in the dream was angry because I had accused him of rape, and decided since I’d said it, he had permission – it was the same thing one of my rapists said to me right before he…you know.

While I know that this fear is incredibly valid – we’re all afraid our rapists will return to us to do more damage – it’s no less shocking when something happens to trigger that part of the brain.

I know that my brain is in the state of trying to process everything that I am only just starting to acknowledge, and I know that it’s going to take time, but it’s still scary to see that I react as humanly as anyone else would have.

It’s frustrating to know that I can’t just shake these fears off the way the RCMP, Police and my Doctors seem to be able to. It’s scary to know that I am the only person on the planet who fears for my safety.

It feels alone out here on this ledge, but I know for a fact that the only way I was ever going to be free of my past life, was to tell the truth about what was happening to me…not by me…but to me.

That’s an incredibly important distinction. I didn’t want to be raped, I didn’t ask to be raped and I damned sure didn’t deserve to be raped. The reality is that very bad men chose to do something very bad to me, and now I have to deal with the consequences of that.

I can do it. I got through today didn’t I? It was hard, and sad and I cried a little bit, but I got through it, and I will get through tomorrow, and the next day and the days after that, and so will you.

We just can’t give up, we can’t let the bastards win by taking our own lives or hurting ourselves. The pain is real, and valid, and no one can ever tell me otherwise. I know that I am not crazy, I am suffering from PTSD, like millions of other people out there, and even if my Doctor refuses to acknowledge that fact…I know it to be true.

No…this isn’t where I thought I’d be…but I have the feeling it’s exactly where I need to be.

Sending all my love to the other warriors out there

Devon J Hall


 

 

 

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