The other night I had a dream I was talking to lady who felt she had no right to live. I told her that she had every right to be here and that there was nothing she could reveal to me about her abusive past that would make me think differently. I told her over and over again, “You have a right to be here as much as anyone else.” I woke up more tired than when I laid down.
Last night I had a dream that I woke up and my apartment was filled with brand new oil paints. Someone purchased all the oils from Hobby Lobby and placed them in my apartment. When I woke I was thrilled but leery. Why would someone give me this gift? I woke more tired than when I laid down.
I figure the dream about having just as much right to live as anyone else is about how I feel concerning my own existence. I figure the dream about waking to find a house full of something I want is related to talking about how the mother would leave gifts on my dresser at night so I would find them in the morning. It was a gift I was bound to pay for.
It’s strange that lately in my dreams I’ve been eating. That’s a huge change because before I’d start to eat or go to a gather where food was the main event but some trauma would prevent it from happening. Lately I’ve eaten in my dreams. I still have the dreams in German or Spanish, still dream about my little brother being killed or having someone hunt my sister and me like animals. We hide in tall grass and hope the killers don’t find us. In these dreams I lead the sister to safety. Her safety depends on me keeping a clear head.
I slept most of Saturday away. I simply couldn’t wake up. I’m trying to get my body well enough to go to therapy Monday afternoon. I missed last Wednesday.
I’ve been forcing myself to eat. Lord knows standing in the kitchen to cook isn’t going to work so yesterday I went out. As I sat over a plate of salad my dinner guest said to me, “Are you high?” I stuttered and stumbled out a “No” which I’m sure didn’t help prove that I wasn’t high. He said I seemed really laid back and that being so laid back at a six dollar buffet usually means you’re high. This is the second time someone has commented on me not being talkative and cheerful. I was kind of embarrassed. I’m not talkative and cheerful because I’m pissed, grieved and physically exhausted.
Before I came home I stopped off at the tobacco store. When I came out a lady passed me with a huge black eye. The cashier on break asked her what happened. This lead to an entire conversation about the young lady’s life. The cashier said, “I could talk to her all day but “women like that” don’t leave.” I said, “Yes we do.” She said, “Your husband beat you?” She went on to say that “they” go back again and again. I told her it took 3 times for me to leave but I finally did and I stayed gone. I was so upset that she wrote her off as “women like that.” The young girl came out and the cashier told her, “Her husband use to beat her too.” I told her about the safest spot in the city and about how they helped me stay away from my ex-husband. This young lady wasn’t just physically wounded she was wounded emotionally and spiritually. I hope she goes to the shelter.
J of A
Dreams and Food -Sunday, August 17, 2008-3:46AM EST
According to all the statistics - It takes lots of times leaving for it to actually stick. I wish people would realize that.
Yup, it usually takes more than once to leave.
You know what struck me? The cashier was so willing to tell me this woman’s story then turn around and tell her mine. She has no idea what it means to keep her mouth shut. I’m a total stranger, did I really need to hear the other person’s life story out in the open with everyone in the world listening? It was totally inappropriate how the cashier spoke so openly to a total stranger. It told me a lot about her.
Austin