it comes again

two nights ago, something happened that hasn't happened in a long time.

i woke up shaking in terror...a nightmare.

nightmares aren't really that unusual for anyone.  for the past year or so my nightmares have been mildly disturbing, creating the occasional night of restless sleeping and disorientation that comes with the end of the dream.  i recover from them quickly and forget about them almost immediately.

two nights ago, that didn't happen.  i had another nightmare related to my abuse.  this one was different, though.  it didn't feature my abuser or the actual abuse in the way previous nightmares did.  it was mostly about one specific place.

places have been strongly linked to my memory.  my flashbacks and memories were not typically of events, but rather of the places the events occurred.  for example, i had a frequent flashback that was a single image: a camping site that my family visited almost every year as a child.  even now i see it in my mind's eye, almost like a photograph.  (i am happy to say that this image does not cause me panic or anxiety anymore.)  i thought i had put all of it behind me.  as with everything else, however, there are always setbacks, struggles, and frustrations that come up periodically.

this place...it was the basement of my grandparents' house when i was a kid.  the place where much of the abuse i experienced occurred.  in my nightmare, i was at this house.  i told someone if i had the choice i would torch the house and watch it go up in flame.  later, for some reason, i had to go into the basement.....forcing myself to stop every few stairs in order to calm down and keep going.  when i reached the end of the stairs, there was a door to the bathroom (not where it was actually located in their house).  in my nightmare, i had an anxiety attack.  i made it past the door, into the main room, but i was crying, shaking.  i was alone.  i was terrified.  i could hear my husband talking to someone upstairs...asking where i'd gone.  when he realized where i was, he was upset i'd gone by myself, knowing it was hard for me.  then (in the odd, disjointed nature of dreams) he was there, in the basement, holding a baby.  (i knew it was our baby somehow.)  i turned around and there was a strange man behind me.  the man tried to attack me and pushed me up against a wall.  my husband saved me.  then they were both gone.  i was alone again.  i turned in a circle, seeing the whole basement, the laundry room that was always kind of scary when i was a kid, the stairway to the backyard that always had spiders in it, bedrooms.  playrooms.  the bathroom.  and i panicked.  i screamed. 

my daughter woke me up from the dream.  she cried one word.  "mommy!"  really loudly...then nothing.  she either did it in her sleep, or fell asleep again immediately after.  at the time i was alone, hubby at work, and i was suddenly scared of the dark, afraid to go downstairs, afraid to get out of my bed.  i was a helpless, scared and lonely little girl again, which is a feeling i do NOT like.  in fact, i HATE that feeling.  it is attached to almost every dark moment in my life.  luckily i was able to reach hubby immediately on the phone, and he got home shortly after to hold my hand and comfort me.

last night i turned the light on in my closet because i didn't want to be in the dark.  i couldn't sleep.  i make myself anxious thinking about how tired i am but how much i don't want to have nightmares.  i was scared and lonely again.  around midnight my little girl woke up crying about something...perfect excuse for me.  i brought her into my bed, and she immediately curled her warm little body against my side.  feeling her next to me, listening to her even breaths, i was able to relax.  even feel a little bit of contentment.  and i immediately fell asleep.

i've learned a few things about myself the past few days.  i will never really get past this abuse completely, although i view this as a minor hiccup in my journey.  (considering it's been about a year since i've had one of these, when they used to happen nightly, is a pretty awesome thing.)  i don't like being alone anymore.  my family can tell you that when i was a kid, that's all i wanted--to be alone.  now, i want my husband.  i want my children.  sometimes i want to be alone, but usually i want a hand to hold, a cheek to kiss, a hug, a shoulder to lay my head on.  just a simple physical touch has the power to make me feel safe and happy now.  before it was almost threatening at times when i was in this kind of situation.  i still, however, have a very difficult time verbalizing my nightmares...like i literally cannot form words to describe it, even when i physically try to force myself.  the words won't come.  writing them, however, is possible. 

so here i am again, on my blog, my place to expel the hurt and fear and nightmares inside me.  my husband is here to hold me, my children are here to give me sloppy kisses on the cheek, the love of my family to keep me safe.  and my blog to let me release it all.

tonight i think i'll sleep better.  without the light on in the closet.  (the baby might end up with me again...but mostly because i love that soft little head and the way she clings to me when she sleeps.)

thank you, hubby, for being there for me when i'm at my worst....thank you, little ones, for loving me even though i may be the most imperfect mother ever...thank you, family, for sticking with me for 26 years of crazy....and thank you, readers, for listening.

.....relief.

goodnight.

side note: i feel compelled to say that while this house held so much horror for me, i also have so many good memories of it.  that is part of the trouble i faced in therapy: feeling such mixed feelings about a place.  i remember the most horrible experiences of my life in that house...but i also remember sleepovers, watching scamper the penguin, my grandmother making tuna sandwiches with lettuce and fried eggs.  playing in the pasture and garden.  pink flamingos, climbing the tree in the front yard, finding fuzzy caterpillars.  riding my pony.  birthday parties and holidays.  playing in my grandma's jewelry box.  the transformers.  the play kitchen in the basement.  the time one of my uncles gave me a crybaby to see me make a sour face and how disappointed he was when i liked it.  rolling on the waterbed in my grandparents' room.  the mustardy/olive green bathtub and sink in the bathroom....playing on grandma's piano.  cutting up old copies of "redbook" to make collages.  easter egg hunts, visits from santa, family dinners.  eating hamburger patties with nothing but ketchup on them, no buns.  the brown couches with blue flowers and birds on them.  the hot tub.  watermelon on the back porch....more than a decade of memories.  i am glad i am able to compartmentalize them now.  i can think about their house, the campsite, my childhood bedroom, and remember the good things without worrying about the bad.

prison

the nightmares keep coming back.

right in the middle of a pleasant dream, there he is. i see his face. sometimes he doesn't speak. sometimes he doesn't look at me. but he is there....and suddenly i am filled with fear, with anger, with...darkness. there is no word to describe the feeling. i wake up panicky, feeling as if i haven't slept at all, and my neck and shoulders so tense they are throbbing. i awake to darkness surrounding me awake as i have within me in unconsciousness.

i roll over to see hubby sleeping, breathing evenly and deeply. i touch his arm, curl up against his shoulder and try to sleep again. within me there is a fight--a fight for sleep i desperately need as a mother of two very small and energetic children, and a fight for consciousness, to escape the man who haunts my dreams.

how do i escape? there is no where to run. i cannot hide from what is inside my head. in my waking hours it is much easier to avoid the darkness and fear, although not always successful. at night, in my dreams....there is no way. there is no escape. my mind is a prison that i am bound to, and i don't know where to go looking for the key.

i am grateful to have a family who loves and supports me, who bolsters me through the daylight. a husband who keeps me connected to reality. children who need me. without them, i might just be lost in the depths of insanity, surrendering to the darkness inside, losing myself piece by piece into the mists of fear and helplessness.

helplessness. yes, that's the word i couldn't place before.

a small girl, six years of age, sitting in a corner. curled up in a tight little ball...face pressed into knees, arms wrapped around her body, shaking and shivering, alone, confused and hurt...tears running down her face. no where to run, no where to hide, no one to talk to.

when i close my eyes, that is what i see.

i see me.

nightmares

the nightmare, by john henry fuseli, 1781

i keep having nightmares again. every night...seems like all night long.

why do i go for so long without one, just to have them over and over again, for weeks in a row?

this painting is really what it's like for me. these little demons, on my chest, making it hard to breathe, getting in my head...white-eyed terrifying horses, pounding and screaming....while i am laying there helpless, vulnerable, and alone inside the nightmare.

i wake up feeling like i haven't slept at all, dark circles under my eyes, headache, anxiety in my chest. poor hubby keeps asking me how he can help...but i don't think he can reach inside my head and pull out the darkness. trust me, i wish he could.

what do you do when you have nightmares? how do you handle it? have you ever had one so real it's hard to separate sleep from reality?

...(good?) morning

i'm in a really bad mood today.

yesterday i was really sick, some kind of flu. i'm still not feeling great today but at least i'm capable of getting out of bed. being sick puts a lot of strain on my family and i hate that. hubby came home from work to take care of little buddy, which is really hard on him. i feel really guilty about it. i spent most of the day yesterday sleeping and spiraling down in a well of self-pity because i feel like a terrible wife for putting so much on hubby and a terrible mother for not being able to take care of my son. i guess it wouldn't be so bad if i weren't sick so often. with this pregnancy i've been sick a lot. i went to bed in tears and woke up pretty much the same way.

i had terrible nightmares last night. when i wake up in the middle of the night they don't go away. the shadows are full of my nightmares. in the 20 steps from my bed to the bathroom i have panic attacks, waiting for something to jump out at me. i hear them in my head and then have a hard time falling back asleep. i'm not afraid of the dark, really. it's just those nights that the terror comes alive in my head i can't deal with it. i end up huddled under my covers praying that it will just go away. i have these images of violence, anger, death, suicide in my head that just don't want to leave.

lately i've been having weird dreams about my abuser. not necessarily nightmares, which is the weird thing. but dreams about being around him as if nothing happened. that disturbs me as much as the nightmares do, though. how could i possibly go on normally around him, as if nothing ever happened? i know i did it for years, before my parents found out about the abuse, but the thought of carrying on a conversation with him now makes me sick to my stomach. his face pops into my head at random moments. although it doesn't create the panic it used to it is still hard to deal with.

i'm tired of feeling like i have to defend myself constantly, to everyone...even myself. it's like a part of me just can't believe that i'm that bad of a person, while the majority of my insides tell me over and over again how incompetent i am, how incapable of a wife and mother i am, and how i just disappoint everyone. that no matter what i do it just isn't good enough.

i decided to make french toast this morning for little buddy, since i wasn't too involved yesterday. first thing i did was start a fire on my stove. something had spilled on the burner which promptly caught fire. (not a bad one, i promise.) so i moved the pan to a different burner, where i proceeded to burn three pieces of french toast. got a new pan and started over. burned two more pieces. by this time the house was full of smoke and smelled awful. finally got three decent-looking pieces. little buddy got his, liked it, thank goodness, then i ate mine. burnt on the outside and total goo on the inside. i ended up throwing half of it away. what a great start to the day.

i'm sorry if this seems disjointed. i know i complain a lot, i've been told that i do. i just needed to get it out....get it out somewhere that i don't have to look someone in the face while i'm talking, where i don't have to hear a response. i just needed to release a little of the pain i've got pent up inside of me right now. so thanks for letting me purge this.

nightmare

i have had this nightmare, just beginning this last week.

i am in a cold, snowy, wooded place. there is a hill, with a road covered in snow--impassible to cars. my dad is standing there. we are inside a room i am surrounded by four other women, girls really, girls i don't really know. i am trying to tell my dad something--i am in danger. he knows something is wrong. i can't say anything to him verbally, i am trying to communicate with my eyes. my dream self is terrified, my actual self doesn't know why. my dad smiles at me, but with concern in his eyes, and leaves. i don't know why he leaves. but i think he has to--he doesn't want to. my dad has always wanted to protect me.

i find out from the other girls there is a man taking things from them. in my dream, he is taking literal things from them. i find out they are kept in a fridge, at the bottom of this hill, where the man is outside in a clearing. the other girls are sitting in a car at the top of the hill. i am able to steal back one thing from the man out of the fridge without him noticing. inside the fridge are little tupperwares, clear with a blue lid on each. inside is white frosting. (it looks like frosting.) i get away with a small one, slowly sneak up the hill and get to the top to meet up with the other four girls, who are still sitting in the car. it is a convertible. i give the tupperware back to the girl it belongs to. i tell them to leave, to run away. then the man comes up the hill. (my dream self does not recognize this man, he had a face, but it was no one i know.) he pulls out a gun. i am standing on the sidewalk, screaming hysterically as i watch him shoot and kill all four of the girls in the car. i am left alone, realizing i am in what should be a busy place. it looks like a mall. he throws the gun down in the parking lot.

then he comes after me. i cry, i scream. there is no one around to hear me. he yells. his eyes terrify me. he beats me, he takes off my clothes, slapping my face. jerking me around by my wrists. (something i HATE...because i feel so powerless, i can't fight back, i panic when someone grabs my wrists to control my arms.) he starts to undress, threatening me, telling me what he's going to do to me. just before he rapes me, i wake up. sweating, breathing hard, sometimes crying, and always terrified.

i don't sleep well anymore.