Dreams and Dreaming

I’ve always been a dreamer.  I used to wake up multiple times a night and remember having the craziest dreams.  Dreams, for me, have always been very vivid and rich.  They also have tended to repeat themselves.

I used to dream at least weekly, if not more, about flying.  Either I could fly like Superman or I could jump for a mile at a time.  Either way, I had that freedom to leave the constrains of gravity for the freedom of the air.  I would wake up and remember that it was a dream and that I couldn’t fly and I would be so disappointed to be awake and stuck on the ground.

Another recurrent theme in my dreams has been terror.  I’ve had many nightmares.  The subjects were always different and whether I was being chased by some unseen person, snakes, very mean dogs, or the brakes not working in my car didn’t matter as much as the fact that I tried in every dream to scream.  I would open my mouth and scream for all I was worth and not one sound would come out.

In these dreams, I would scream until I was breathless yet no one came to help because I couldn’t make a sound.  I was absolutely mute.  I remember how terrified I was when I woke up out of one of those dreams.  I also remember how powerless I felt, both in the dreams and after I woke up.

After I left Bubba, I stopped dreaming.  It was the first time in my life I ever remember not dreaming.  I went for months not remembering having one dream.  It was very weird to me but pleasant in a way.  No dreams meant no nightmares and that alone was refreshing.

With our next court date a month away, the ban on contact with Luke approaching the two month mark, and a nasty case of insomnia going that had me missing about four hours of sleep in the middle of each night, I found myself dreaming again whenever I did manage to sleep:

I’ve dreamed for the past two nights. The night before last was about Bubba.  I remembered it vividly when I woke up but it is vague now.  

He was trying to push me down the stairs of the house we were in.  Then he had a snake in an overnight bag and I told him to take it outside.  He was angry so he jerked the straps to pick up the bag and that snake started biting him over and over. 

He told me it was ok because he had the antidote and drank it.  I stood there and hoped it wouldn’t work.  I don’t remember anything else. I think I woke up then.  It was 4:30 am and I had to lay here and talk myself down because I was so scared.  I really wanted to text someone but I didn’t want to wake anyone up.  The only person I could think of that maybe wouldn’t mind, well, I can’t text him right now.

Last night I dreamed about my mom.  We were at her house and I confronted her about her affidavit.  She swore she didn’t say anything against me and didn’t try to make me lose custody of my children.  I was shocked.  I ended up yelling at her that it was the worst betrayal in my life, that I would never act like that to my own daughter.  Shane heard me yelling and came in crying.  He was afraid because of all the yelling.  I don’t remember anything else.  

I haven’t remembered many dreams since this all began.  For me, that’s weird.  I used to have and remember (vividly) a couple of dreams every night.  Now it’s rare for me to remember dreaming.  Oh yeah, I forgot that in that first dream, I screamed and nothing came out.  I tried again and I did it!  I screamed!  That is the first time in my life I remember screaming in a dream and having sound come out!  And I used to scream a lot in my dreams.

I just want this to be over.  I want this next court date to be the date that I get my divorce.  I want the judge to give me custody, child support, and alimony so that I can get through the next few years.  I just want alimony until I get on my feet – two short years.  

Oh, and I’ve given myself permission to think about Luke on Fridays, and Saturday and Sunday mornings while I’m laying in bed.  I didn’t think about him much on Friday.  A little.  I do enjoy thinking about him in the mornings though.  I lay in bed and dream about what it would be like to wake up next to him.  

I have to laugh because I think about him touching me but never down there.  In my musings he doesn’t get mad or frustrated with me.  He just touches what he is allowed to and is happy to just be with me.  As much as I dream about remarrying someday, when I really think about it, the marriage doesn’t involve sex.  I’m not ready to think about that yet.  

Deep down that is my great fear.  That I’ll never get married again because I’ll be too afraid to open myself up sexually.

I remember how conflicted I was.  I was having these day dreams about Luke.  The idea of sex still scared me but the idea of curling up with Luke fascinated me.  In my day dreams, I would picture us snuggled up together, me fully clothed, him without his shirt.  That is as far as it went.  I just wanted strong arms to hold me and keep me safe.  I’d never had that and I wanted it so badly.

I dreamed of finding that and so much more with Luke.



  1. After leaving seven years of married rape with Sir, I didn’t figure I would ever want to deal with a marriage relationship again because I didn’t want to have to think about having sex with anyone. What you said, about being held, that was all I wanted too. When CJ started talking about getting married, I told him that. I told him what I wanted was to be held and feel safe and that I didn’t know if I would ever want sex. (I didn’t know at that point that what Sir had done sexually was abusive. I thought that’s just how things were done.) CJ wanted to marry me anyway, even if sex was something I was never ready for. He was very patient. Things got a lot better for me once I realized it was supposed to be a good thing to share instead of being about being made to feel helpless and scared. But even now, when I have a flashback or something clicks and I can’t stop a memory (which is more often lately because I didn’t realize until starting to read your blog exactly how to define what Sir had done), CJ does just what I told him in the beginning I wanted. Just holds me and tells me I am safe.

    • That is wonderful. I’m crying happy tears for you. I’m glad he gives you what you need.

      Are you seeing a counselor? Talking to Liz really helped me process what Bubba had done to me.

      • I have had great difficulty finding someone who doesn’t talk down to me like I’m an idiot, probably because I have another unrelated diagnosis also. (I’m not an idiot. I hate stereotypes.) I’ve also found I’m not able to actually speak about it. Writing comments here and telling my best friend by chat is as far as I’m able to go at the moment.

      • I’m so sorry. I know Liz was a major help in my healing. I hope you can find a way to work through this because you are so worth healing!


  1. Letters to Luke « Hope Wears Heels

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