The thing about having a trauma history is that I get to have trauma dreams (some are just disturbing/upsetting dreams and some are outright nightmares) all the time. There is never any rhyme or reason as to what dreams will be most upsetting. Sometimes, the sexual danger is just implied and the dream has me wake-up in heart-pounding terror. Sometimes, the sexual danger/violence is more overt and I wake up feeling disgusting and dirty, but not in terror. And sometimes it flip-flops. I don’t know how my brain decides what kind of dream it will be…but it doesn’t really matter. Terrified or disgusting, it is not the way I want to feel when I wake up.
Yes…Last night, I had one of those dreams. I woke up feeling disgusting and used and super depressed. I hate being tormented in my sleep. And I don’t want to take that stupid nightmare medicine. I hate medications.
Lately, I have having dreams where I am kidnapped and/or held against my will and raped. And in my dreams, the raping is not always penile penetration…Nope, my nightmares are taking me into darker territory. And I hate it. I told the AT that I was having kidnapping/rape dreams and he got his super compassionate look and said something to the effect of, “I am sorry you are experiencing that.” And I was annoyed. I don’t want him to be sorry. I don’t want him to care. My response was a shrug of, “It doesn’t matter.” (Of course, if it really didn’t matter, I wouldn’t have brought it up.)
I never have dreams that are literal re-enactments of my trauma. I don’t know if such dreams would be better or worse.
So, this morning when I woke up, I just wanted to be dead. I didn’t want the feelings I was having after the dreams. And I wanted to self-harm. But I have the triple safety contracts…Which makes me feel trapped and without options. I distracted myself by spending probably 15 minutes body checking over and over….Feeling for the bones on my hips and my ribs and my collar bones, taking comfort in the fact that they are more prominent. And then when I finally dragged myself out of bed, I restricted what I ate. (Which, as everyone keeps pointing out, is self-harm, but I don’t think it counts.)
It was an ugly start to my day and though my day has improved some, and at the encouragement of my PNP, I did eat more (but still restricted) I am still tearful and stressed and feel pretty disgusting, which would be almost tolerable, except that we have to go over to my mother-in-law’s for a barbecue this afternoon.
I am so sensitive about who I eat with and what I eat and my eating schedule…This meal at my MIL’s will be super painful. I am taking my own food so I know it is gluten free/vegetarian and that it meets my meal exchanges for lunch. And if she is put out by that, she can piss off. But of course, I won’t tell her to piss off. I will smile and be the perfect daughter-in-law and endure until it is time to go home. Let me tell you, after 20+ years, I have the perfect-daughter-in-law act down to an art. It sucks every bit of energy out of me, but it is how I keep myself safe and deflect the selfish narcissism of my MIL.
Ummmm….I have no idea where I am going with any of this. I guess I just needed to do a brain-dump. Anyway, I am tired and emotionally raw and now I have to go be social and perfect for a few hours. I just don’t feel up to the task.