I haven’t posted in a long while, I know.  That may have had something to do with finding out that my parents read my blog.  Just.  Maybe.

Also things have been busy and rather hellish for lots of people that I care about.  Dave and I are both ready for this year to be OVER and a new, better year to be on the way.  That would be nice.  Because these last few months have just been very mean to too many people.

I am going to break a major rule of blogging here and tell you about my dream last night.  Warning: THIS IS NOT A NICE DREAM.

I was in a large field, plains area staying at a house there.  Over to the right of our house was a shed-like cabin that was completely closed up.  Everything was gray and green, the grass and the cabin, and all the windows and doors were covered in black paper.  I was very, very nervous around the cabin, but also curious and kept noticing odd happenings – mostly just flutters and odd noises.

I finally decided to break into the cabin and when I did I found a serial killer.  A serial killer of children.  There were bones and instruments locked into cabinets.  The man came at me and tried to eat me.  I shoved my fist into his mouth and began pushing it down its throat, and then I ripped his jaw from his head, killing him.

Is that a terrible thing to write?  I have had dreams this vivid, and often this violent, for over a year now.  They are not all terrible though.  Some are enormously entertaining.  Dave says they are better than TV!  For a certain period they were only nightmares.  Really, really bad nightmares and I would try to drug myself before bed so that I wouldn’t have them.  Sleeping aids, wine, nyquil were occasionally used in my efforts to stave off dreams of rape and murder.. even dreams in which I WAS the demon, the murderer.  Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn’t.

I don’t know if I have a point to any of this, but maybe it is this…  since ending therapy, I no longer have NIGHTMARES of terrible, horrifying events.  I still have bad dreams, but I don’t have anything like what used to be.  And apparently now my dreams are showing me that I am taking back power in my life.  Killing the killers may not be the most Care Bears kind of dream to have, but it means something, still.  I think it means I am doing well.  I am learning still more about myself and what it means to be me.