Yelling At My Mom

It’s a reoccurring dream I have.  It’s always a quick flash but leave a brutal impact on my brain.  In my dream, I unleash verbally on my Mom for probably less than a minute.  But it is a full-on flash of rage.  I am screaming, yelling, swearing and often standing over her in a threatening manner.  This time, I was pointing at her face and moving towards her aggressively swearing and said “you want to know, you want to know fine I’ll tell you every disgusting detail” and this time she fell to the floor and crumbled into a ball crying as she replied “what do want me to say? I’m sorry!  I’m sorry!”

I know that I have anger at my Mom.  I have worked very hard to get rid of it.  I have tried to see things from her view and her life.  I still know deep inside that the child is enraged with her.  I know why.  I choose to walk a different path.  I choose to spare my Mother my rage.  She has not earned it.  Not all of it.  And if that can gets opened, I still do not trust myself not to unleash on her.  These dreams are a constant reminder of that.

This dream and the others are nightly reminders that I survived a fucked up childhood and upbringing.  And that PTSD remains alive and active in my broken brain.  I hate it.  I hate dreaming of being chased, trying to escape a burning building or being raped.  I would give almost anything to make the nightmares stop.

Tiny bit better

I slept a little better last night.  Woke from the first dream around midnight and it was not a nightmare 😉  I can no longer remember what the dream was.  But I know I acknowledged that I was not having a nightmare at midnight.

Second dream was scary and definitely PTSD fed but it was not the usual.  It’s as if the pill started it’s job but could not completely hold the nightmares back.  The usual theme.  I’m at an event.  It’s a campground.  I suddenly need to leave quickly.  Usually at this point I start running or driving a truck I can’t control (sometimes I am trying to steer from the back seat).  This I time I was a passenger in a small aircraft.  It’s pouring rain and there is nowhere to land.  We are circling along with many other planes.  The people on the ground are in full panic mode.  My pilot is calm.  I remember I asked if we could please land now and I was afraid.  And the dream ended.  No crash.  No “something” coming for me.

I’m counting it a small win.  The research I read last night says it can take up to a week for the system to recognize the drug and use it.  I’m in.

Have a great day.

Those dreams can bit me

I had “the dream” again last night.  I was in a happy place.  I am pretty sure I was at our regional Burning Man annual camp out.  The atmosphere was very Burner esq.  I was getting ready, settling in, thinking about what costume I want to wear.  My Dad was there (long been a dream to get my Dad there).  I was walking in the woods to the sounds of laughter and music.  Everything changed.  I could hear the faint rumble of a horrible monster rising up out the tree’s.  It was towering over the forest and I instantly knew, as always, it was coming for me and only me.  I began to run, as always.  I ran inside a house.  My Dad was there but he was frail and very sick.  I helped him up three flights of stairs all the while hearing the screams and destruction as this huge tree like monster made its way to us.  I took my Dad into a tiny bathroom.  I don’t know why I always do that in my dream but if I am in a house it’s the bathroom I hide in (stupid movies probably).  I tried to push my Dad out the window because I knew the monster(s) was inside the house now.  My Dad was suddenly hugely obese and there was no way he was getting out.  I bashed the entire little bathroom window out with my fist and stuck my head and out just in time to see the monster come out a window next to me and I was done……

This theme happens currently about once a week.  When the PTSD is at its peak, its nightly.  In recent years before this last trigger it was down to monthly.  I see no reason to analyze it for you.  Pretty clear don’t ya think?  Something bad happened, I have PTSD and my subconscious is afraid of it happening again, always.  I see no power in this knowledge yet other than to share it with others and say yes this is part of it.  I know some say they have been able to learn to control their dreams.  I have not.

Here is my new thought on this dream theme.  Earlier I was writing about how I am still feeling such peace and freedom after my recent break through.  Hmmm…. see it yet?  Looky looky there another light shined on another pattern.

Yes Oz it is okay to be happy.  You don’t have to be afraid that something bad is about to happen.  Even if it did, you are one strong ass fabulous bitch and you have grown into one hell of a woman.  So to those dreams I say, I’m in a really good place right now.  Please do fuck off.

Good day / Bad dreams

Today was good as far as food goes. I did good. The scary painful shit coming from my back continues. I have promised I will call my spine doc in the AM and advise re the incontinence that has occurred that last few mornings. I realized today that I would rather it be all in my head then it be worsening due to the back injury. So much so that I was willing to not share it. I told A and she asked me to call my doc. We discussed it and she thinks it is true incontinence and I need to make the docs aware. So I promised.

A is the woman I love. We met just before life began kicking my ass. Then it began kicking her ass. We have walked through some serious hell together. She has committed to a year single and focused on her health. I have done the same but honestly because she is holding to her word. I know who I am to her and she to me. I am not going to lie and say it doesn’t cross my mind that I am holding onto some thing I should not. I am also not going to foolishly walk away from one of the strongest, most honest, loyal and brave people I have ever met. Our first year together was riddled with ridiculous amounts of BS that neither had control over. We both made mistakes. Difference being (compared to previous relationships) is that both of us are sitting on the couch with therapists and doing the hard work. Will we be together long term, short term , in a year or whatever? I don’t know. I choose today.

The PTSD dreams are taunting me. Why am I so often hiding in what I think are secret rooms? Why ohhhh why do I sometimes get away but as soon as I am driving either the vehicle is suddenly gigantic or the road I’m going down is going to end & I will be driving off into blackness. The repeating themes that I have never found an answer for or a way to change them. They never stop. Lately they are ummmm darker? The place I am at is dark. It’s always night time and cold. The dreams feel scarier somehow. No wait….. Sadder that’s what it is. Myself, the child the dreams is very sad. Wow…..

Please please please let me sleep.

Night Sweats

Woke at 1am in a cold sweat. Literally wet from sweat, over heating & yet skin burning from the cold air. I threw the covers back & forth a few times. I pushed the dogs off me. It took a few mins before I was awake enough to know I needed to get up & readjust the bed. I switched on the bed side light & began to process what I needed. Was it the steroids? Was it pain? Nausea? My feet hit the ground and my first answer came. I had to pee. Damn it, there is no control again. I am walking the few steps to my bathroom & I can feel urine dripping out at an increasing speed. I do the drop panty twist n squat just before a full stream hits.

I’ve been here more times then I can count in the last ten years. I order Poise by the bulk of Amazon. I am never without one on, never. But recently it’s worse. Is it or I am just locked onto a symptom? When my back injury got really bad the docs started warning me to report any loss of bladder or bowel control. I am trying to decide if the PTSD is finding something to be irrational about or if I need to say something. My docs know me well. I think if I express my concern while being calm & rational even if it is the PTSD they will not only respect me but help me. I fucking hate PTSD! Have I mentioned that?

I’m very happy to have found WordPress. I am reading about others journeys & it helps more then I thought it could. Your stories help me be honest about mine. So at 1:45am I tell you the short version of me with a promise to expand as I blog.

I am 45 female. I have long identified as bi-sexual FemDom but am questioning my choices currently. I have PTSD due to severe childhood abuse by an older sibling and countless adult men. I have Fibromyalgia (diagnosed 1999). I have MRSA (multiple scars from three battles) and it threatens me constantly. And finally I have a ruptured disk in my lower back from a fall ten months ago.

I am a warrior. I am a scared little girl. I am the most positive and get it done woman you will ever meet….. Sometimes. I live in pain 24hrs per day. It’s a matter of how much pain and never when it will stop. This I have accepted. I am passionate, kind, generous & accepting of people. And yet I have the ability to hate to a point of disgusting my own self. Anger and forgiveness aware topics I will address as well.

Why ohhh why can’t I go back to sleep? Do I really want to? My body needs the sleep but my mind hates it. Sleeping equals dreaming or nightmares. Every single night sense about the time I was raped I have vivid colorful dreams or nightmares and I usually remember them. If it’s a dream I am the weird outcast fat girl being made to feel bad. If it’s a nightmare I am running, hiding or fighting off something or someone. That’s about 33yrs of nightly terror. I am getting better at blocking the images. Now I get little snippets of the dream. As a teen and in my twenties it could take hours to shake the dreams because I remembered every little detail. Try being terrified and emotional every morning and holding down a job. I could never tell that cunt of a boss in my twenties why I was late so many times that year. I remember standing there with tears in my eyes saying “I had a bad morning” on a couple of occasions. I didn’t know that it wasn’t normal to often cry all your makeup off & start over before work. And back then, I wore an hours worth of shit on my face to mask the pain.

So sleep may not be with me tonight. Thank the playa (Burner term) I have this iPad and your writing to read. I look forward to sharing my journey with you.