night terrors - waking up dead

i know that night terrors are generally reserved for children; being that i am a child broken inside i think that it is fitting to tell of one of my many dreams that drives me mad, and is my realization that i am not doing okay.

i also want to say that i really appreciate the world of blogger, for the friends that i feel i have made to help me to heal, who care about me.

amysplash thanks for coming and reading me often, i feel that you are there every day, from the beginning of this journey to heal.

psych client: you have so many kind things to say, and you are sharing your story, it is hard for you, i know, but thanks.

other commenter's: marj aka thriver, lulubelle, strong and determined, kim-one tough cookie, Hi there=), trying to stay calm, cassandra, and andrea.

you here, are my friends. you know the worst things about me, and yet you keep coming back.

I do laugh. I live, and I love. to some degree we all have to. but dealing with what is going on inside is critical. especially when you get to the point i am. feeling hopeless and helpless, feeling that if i don't stop faking my life i will wake up someday dead.

so here goes. thank you psych client, for your post, for bringing out this dream.
i read you and really thought thankful thoughts,
to not be alone in my nightmare, my pain anymore.


this is something that i need to write about,
reading yesterday made me restless,
until i get it out i fear no sleep, only more night terror in sight.

my recurring dream

i am going about my life, taking care of my four kids, being a wife. going to school, sweeping, dishes, vacuuming, volunteering, smiling at family parties. you know, what we do when we are faking that we are okay.

i keep having this dream, the one that is like when i was a child, my mom has abandoned me again, in the hospital. i keep reliving the pain of being left behind at 16. the abuse now stops, i should be happy to be left behind, but i can't stop worrying about my baby sister. i want to be with them, even if i have to keep dealing with the abuse.

it is so suffocating.

i am trying to be a good mother. i love my kids, i think, do i really know what love is?

this dream i am going through the motions, doing all that is expected of me.

then it happens. an earthquake.

this dream is so real.

i can feel the shaking, the trembling. the horror. my kids are scared. i feel to protect them from their fear, the possible pain, the suffering. i gather them. i think going to the porch will be the safest. come on, we will be okay. i pull them into my arms.

the trembling gets worse, the shaking, the noise, the chaos.

i hold them, i protect them. i bring them in closer.

and then i tell them, not much longer. it's almost over, i say.

the blackness comes. we have died. the end is in site.

or is it.

in my dream, i wake up. in a hospital.

the room is stark white. am i dead, i wonder.

i begin to feel abandoned.

then i realize, no, i am in a psych ward. i have been institutionalized.

i didn't experience an earthquake at all.

i am the earthquake.

the kids come in, my husband tells them,

"it's okay, just for a moment.
mommy will be fine. just come love her."

they come in, i see the fear in their eyes.

they don't want to see me.

i don't blame them. i fell apart. i quit. i broke, i gave up.

i abandoned them. i am my mother.


this is my recurring dream. the dream that sent me back to therapy.

only to be told that i didn't need medication. i was strong. i was doing fine.
for someone that had been through all that i had i was doing fine.

who the fuck are they to tell me that i am fine?

they don't know me. ask my husband, ask my kids. this system is so screwed up.

then i go to another therapist to be told that he can't handle my shit.

isn't that what he went to school for.

no, he spent time with girls locked up in a psych ward, he knows what messed up is, but he can't handle my story. my mile 191, my ramblings, he has to take a break, he says. he is physically and emotionally sick at the words that i have imposed upon him.

well, no wonder i am so messed up. even my therapist abandons me.

where am i suppose to turn.

can't get meds for depression.

can't get therapy.

i am not willing to start drinking.

i have turned to you. cyber world, for my healing, i have turned to you nice people out there, you who are suffering, who have suffered. thank you for reading me, and for letting me know that you are there. i appreciate you more than you know.