[Vanessa opened her eyes through the fog as if she’d been chasing the dragon. She noticed instantly that she was completely naked and was on her knees in a submissive position in a circular room, with padded walls and a thinly carpeted red floor. She looked around and became aware that she was also surrounded en masse by every man she had ever had sex with or made love to. It was strange how each one stood against the wall and was totally silent, just staring at her. She wanted to stand up but couldn’t muster the strength. Beside her on the floor was a large bottle of pills; the strongest dope she could imagine. Fear ran through her veins with adrenaline like ice. She struggled to breath in slowly. A voice from this crowd spoke solemnly “we’ve been waiting for you.”]
I woke up from this using dream -more like a nightmare and believe me that room was crowded. Some were married men, some single; some alive, some long gone. Some I had been with willingly…some not. I remember the feeling of being high, and woke aroused and scared shitless. What the f**k is the point to a using dream anyway??? And why am I being forced to remember at least half a centuplicate of lovers??? There is a woman inside me, who seems fairly aching to get out. I don’t think I can handle letting her come out. It might result in a dissociative fugue! On the other hand, I am stronger and clean.
Trust me, this is difficult to discuss. I repressed a great many memories and details to survive the feelings associated with them. I cannot truly recall all of the details now, although for sanity’s sake, I guess I am supposed to wish I could. I am writing a journal, but it has taken on a fictional, third-person-singular form.
I described this dream exactly as I remember it –in third person; persona Vanessa who handles all the shitty stuff. I don’t mean to sound crass, but sometimes I am an island; alone with myself and hating every moment, until the dissociation kicks in and I am spelled; relieved of my watch for a while. That feels good to me. What I described above is not my worst nightmare, because it lives in the past. My worst nightmare would be to lose someone else I love and am close to.
I guess I need to face this one at some point. Next time I have this nightmare, I will try to let it play out, as I am sure there is a learning and healing experience at the end of it. Right now, let’s just say that a journey into my past is too frightening and too lurid to explore with my readers and followers. But I can promise to keep you posted as to what happens if I don’t wake up right away and explore this using dream/nightmare further.
I apologize if I don’t write this blog post well, but I don’t want it to sound like a f**king screenplay! These are sensitive issues I have to fight through daily now. Some people understand it (like my therapist); others don’t. They become judgmental of me instead. I don’t frankly care. I want to get through the tangled mess that is my disease. I have bi-polar disorder and BPD, but that’s not who I am; it doesn’t define me, it’s just a label.
It’s like the suboxone issue. I found out that the NA organization considers you are NOT clean if you are on suboxone or methadone as a prophylactic measure. There are those in the program that have really reamed me for admitting I was in a suboxone therapy program. I say, screw that!!! Whatever keeps me from shooting it, smoking it, snorting it, chewing it, or licking it off the fu*king floor, works for me!!! I consider myself 140 days clean TODAY! The rest doesn’t matter much unless I give it credence. I am working a program and it is working for me! I need this program to stay clean so I can TRY to figure out nightmares like this.
Are you facing anything similar? Talk to me. Share a comment or a testimonial.