Update and addendum: wow! I just found this post (11 years later)!! I don’t remember writing it and today I was shocked at my courage to share the below. It is indeed part of the process to have all this stuff come up to be felt, seen and released. Much of this stuff has worked itself out and there are other things still resurfacing. Stick with it. I did. It’s all human stuff…if we’ve buried it it needs to come up and out so it can be released and understood. I will let the piece stand alone as a moment in process…I’ve not thought of the guy in the dream in years now and I forgave my father some years ago too, before he died. That’s all that needs to be known. Peace to all who are moving through this sort of thing.
I had a terrible dream last night and woke at 3 am, unable to get back to sleep.
The dream involved a boy/now man whom I had a mad, insane, unholy, unhealthy, humiliating crush on in highschool that went on into my first year or two of college. I would travel home to see him from time to time after I went away to school.
I lost my virginity to this young man at age 17, three weeks before my 18th birthday. He was abusive, but not without my full permission. I threw myself at him. I begged for his attention and he took advantage of me. I hardly blame him, except he should be blamed because I think he was more depraved than I was. (Some of you may who are generous may wish to soften that pronouncement, but I experienced myself that way.)
That time of my life, at least in relationship to him, was extremely humiliating.
I dreamed last night of throwing myself at him again. Now, as I am today. I woke up feeling like a fucked-up adolescent with none of my sexuality figured out. I wanted him in that dream as much as I did then and upon waking it sickened me. So much of my old self is coming to the fore. It’s not that I haven’t matured sexually and in other ways, but it’s instead that the immature sexually depraved young woman is also still there inhabiting my body. All the confused sexual feelings were never worked out before I was drugged into a stupor and so so many old sick feelings surface these days. I actually dream of the boy/man quite often lately.
How is it that all these twisted old feelings (not just sexual by any means–all sorts of feelings) that fuck with my mind also make me celebrate. This is what I was running from. This is my “mental illness.” What shit. What folly to fall for. These are feelings I had and have because I grew up with a sick fuck for a father and a mother who was humiliated by him. This is a normal reaction to a sick environment. This is human. Yes, I celebrate because I now have the opportunity to wake up. I don’t pretend to have any insight into most of what I’m experiencing. I don’t. I’m totally blind and lame in the face of this shit. Many of you who read my blog are light years ahead of me in understanding the psychology behind your “madness.” But I’m so grateful to now become aware of what has been there all along under the drugs. Maybe now I can begin to live my life. This is real suffering–this is life–not a drugged approximation of it. Yes. I will celebrate it.