the quacking fiber addict

Unless you want to be thoroughly disturbed, don't read on. I mean it, this entry is rated "R".

I've been having truly horrendous nightmares for the past month. Violent and angsty. For the past week or two my nightmares read like horror movies, as in I was a spectator and not-even-in-them. I mentioned this to my doctor when she asked if there was "anything else" bothering me during my appt. on Tues., and my nightmares popped into my head. The whole spectator-nightmare-theme changed last night into something more traumatizing. I had a dream that I was being raped by a guy I know. Like, real-time and everything. I woke up at the point where I was actually at the local hospital being submitted to a rape test. How weird is that? I woke up in pain and ached all day. It was very disturbing. This bothers me more than I'd like because I WAS sexually assaulted several times by a (different) young man I thought was a friend, years ago. I'm wondering if this is a warning to avoid the guy in my dream, or if my subconscious is trying to rehash previously traumatic events.

I'm so afraid to go to sleep now that I'm actually finishing a sweater - something I'd normally avoid at all costs. I wish there WAS such a thing as a Dreamless Sleep Potion. I haven't felt rested in a long time.

Few of the people who read my blog know who I am; and those who do know how long I have battled my aversion to males because of past experiences. I'm finally at the point where I was considering dating again, and I have this nightmare. I wonder if deep down I'm not ready to date again?

Anyway, I really needed to get that out. I didn't feel up to telling anyone, in person. I guess writing something like this on a blog on the internet is easier to deal with in some respects. I got to work out what I think the problem is, I suppose - which was probably what I needed to do w/o involving anyone close to me. They've already had to deal with a lot of this crap over the years, and I really don't want to bring it up again, when I won't be able to dismiss it. Maybe it's a control issue, too. Maybe I should take some psych classes, or something.

Now, I wish I could go back into therapy. I usually go into my Uni's clinic whenever I'm having issues with this problem (they call it post-traumatic-stress syndrome), but they're closed for another week. And, anyway, what's the point? Most of the therapists in town are overbooked, too. I can't wait to see my knitting group on Sunday, they'll make me feel better, they always do.

I need to get back to setting this sleeve in. I'm so close to finishing this Spencer. I feel better for typing this entry up, maybe I'll be able to sleep in another hour or two.

(if this blog entry bothered you, that's your problem, as I posted a warning in advance)