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I dreamed of demons attacking. I screamed for Jesus to help me and prayed to cast them out as I had been taught in church, but they would not go. They shook my hands and arms, changed my eyes, levitated me from the bed and took over the souls of my children. There was nothing I could do. When I awoke I felt dirty. I did not feel safe but as though the demons still lived inside my soul and there was no escape, awake or asleep. The demons perhaps were real, or perhaps were an allegory for my very real PTSD. Then my mind began to race and I questioned if my PTSD was real eother. Perhaps it was all just a delusion I had created to avoid havijg to deal with the REAL demon- me? Perhaps I am just a horrible person? Perhaps the abuse didn't really happen and my parents loved me and I didn't grow up dirt poor and starving and I wasn't really rejulected by my family. Maybe I was just an evil person, born to create chaos with no redeeming qualities. Maybe I wasn't even myself at all. Perhaps this life is just an illusion and I'm really some alien being in another dimension and this is all just a holographic simulation, a video game if you will... Maybe I'm really in a padded room somewhere and nothing I perceive has been real innyears if ever. And do "I" even exist? I have heard that the galaxies and nebulas sometimes look like the images of activuty in the brain... Perhaps we all are just some dream or imaginative process of the Divine... And maybe we are only kidding oursleves. Maybe it is NOT the divine, but the imagination of a common child or even a criminally insane being? Enough musing on this for now. Let us look at another dream. I dream I am in love and pregnant, but something is wrong. My lover is a freak, my child is horribly deformed and will die shortly after birth, and I habe a disease that is rotting my flesh. I am fat as a cow and malnourished at the same time, eating only zuccini. My mother is present and is caring for thebcats better than our family, as usual, only now the cats are monsters and they literally flood the house with cat piss (when I am awake it only smells like this). When I woke up from this dream, I was indeed pregnant and my child died from a connective tissue disease soon after, but the father was a normal (if selfish and promiscuous) young man... I was infatuated but did not know the meaning of love... and he did not love me back. I wonder now if the dream was just a dream or if it was more real than my reality... For indeed my mother was a witch and the cats were her familiars, so MAYBE, I just saw what was truly real in the spirit world? Ans indeed, my child died and my soul was rotting at that time and I FELT SO FAT, yet I was spiritually and physically starving. And indeed the father of my child was not a good man... But was any of this even real? Or was it ny mind's way of protecting me from even deeper rejection than I could admit? And was my mother a witch or did she just say that because of her own hurts after being called one? The day she died I saw death in her eyes... not just physical death but I swear for a moment I saw HELL in her eyes. I followed her there with the help of an angel later... but I still don't know if he was of light or darkness. It changed me, made me weak and I brought a tiny piece of Hell back with me. I couldn't save her. She was a shell of herself. She had become one with the darkness and the darkness had swallowed her. I wonder if this was really just a poetic realization that there IS nothing after death. She is gone and I have done a poor job of giving her a lasting name and a memory. It is a fitting curse that I have done nothing to be remembered for and am no better than her. I deserve it, for who I am and where I came from. Just like her I fight just to get through the day. Most days I am too sick and in too much pain to think clearly, just like her. I pray my children do not suffer the same fate, yet I know out children are the REproduction of ourselves, so they likely will. I wasn't going to be anything like her... but I am JUST like her in all the wrong ways. I am grumpy and tired and in pain and I am poor and I cannot DO all the things to change it. Mom, I love you, and I'm sorry I was so hard in you... and it doesn't matter because you can't hear me and there is no God and the universe doesn't care and I am living in the echoes of my grief. It is just like a dream, living in the past. It isn't real to anyone but you. Though once it was real, now it is only reap in your mind.... So while ONCE it was real to others, NOW it is just a dream... and for those of us who are haunted by past mistakes, trauma, and grief, itnis just a nightmare, a never-ending nightmare and how dare you call it JUST a nightmare?! YOU! Whoever "you" are and are youbeven real or are you just part of the nightmare too? I don't want to admit it but I think "you" are really me, and "me" is trying to tell "myself" and "I" that it really IS JUST a nightmare and it's ok to wake up. It's ok to lwt go of the grief and stop crying now. You don't have to cry for the rest of your life, little one. Wake up and grow up and go find someone to laugh with. Let us look again at another dream. I am in Pompeii and I am at the base of the mountain. I am a short man with my taller wife and our two children... We are having a picnic. Then the pyroclastic flow/lava come and it's all over and I am staring at my burning body thinking I have to get my children out of here but they are already dead. When I wake up I am just a six year old girl who has never seen a volcano or heard of Pompeii but I AM the responsible one and my life is a disaster as I live in a home with alcohol, drugs, and so much violence it may as well beba volcano destroying my family. I later believe it was a past life or something from the collective consciousness. Maybe it really was just a dream, a coincidence in the infinite possibilities. Was it really a dream or a symbolic prophecy? I am shorter than my husband and we have two children... And our hurts and emotional regupation are the volcano. I think I must get my children out but it is too late. They have already been engulphed in the volcano. Volcanoes are my worst fear. Is it the burning rock, however? Or am I really afraid of my own anger? And others' anger? And God's anger? I think it is the anger I fear, not the rock. And also the rock... Jesus is the Rock on which i should stand, yet part of me fears him too, and fears making him angry too. I think, even at six, that Jesus' anger burns against me for being so very evil. I must be very evil indeed since mom tells me I ruined everyone's life already- hers, Dad's, and my grandparents'. Let's look at another dream. My soul is laid bare is it not? And do I even have a soul? Some people would say no one does, or women don't.... or that I personally do not at least. I have been called many bad things and I am a very sensitive person, so they have wounded me deeply. Perhaps they are true. Perhaps I deserve this. I dreamed ofba song but I couldn't quite hear it clearly. In that song was the key to the universe... Perhaps it wss the sound of the creation of the universe? Those sounds are not melodic though, they seem to be rather frightening. Enough of this... On to the next musing.

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Fever dreams

Chapter 2- Life Dreams

YOUR dreams

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It's ALL Just a Dream

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It's ALL Just a Dream

kittenintheyarn3

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Fever dreams

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Dessie Fairris

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