Return To Therapy - And A Memory Of A Bad Day

Sometimes things don't seem real. It feels like my life is a dream that I am unable to awake from. A dream that is keeping me trapped and held prisoner in my own angry, painful, tearful, and never ending sludge of a memory. I am really scared and I have no idea what I should do to feel better. I have tried everything but nothing works.

I started seeing my therapist again on Thursday. Although I know that she isn't judging me in a negative way because I stopped seeing her for 4 weeks, I still feel like she sees me as a failure. Of course I am smart enough to know that it isn't her that sees me that way, it is me. The way I am feeling is the epitome of a double standard in that I would never think that another survivor is a failure if they were in my exact shoes. So why do I KNOWINGLY judge myself so egregiously incorrect? If someone who was in my shoes told me that they feel like a failure I would tell them that there is so much empirical proof that shows them to be an amazing success, but when it comes to telling myself the same things I REFUSE to accept it.

Question 10 of 10 (Therapy Assignment)

Question Submitted by M.M. 

Q: Where do you see yourself in 10 years.

A: I am going to break this question up it three ways.

1) Where do I want to be in 10 years?

a: I think I want the same thing most people want, I want a good education, and well on my way to a good career. I want to be comfortable enough in my own skin to be in a romantic relationship. I want to see a possibility of children by the time I am 26 and have 1 by age 30 and maybe 1 more by age 34. I choose those ages because I want to still be in my lower 50s when I see my kids become their own adults.

I want a husband that is strong willed, intelligent, and nurturing to our children and me. He needs to realize that happiness and individuality is important, and that a big house and fancy car are just life's perks and not life's goals. He must be willing to understand what me and other survivors has gone through so that he can not only be supportive, but a cornerstone that an unbreakable foundation can be built upon.

2) Where do I think I will be in 10 years?

a: I think I will be sort of in the same position as I am currently in, too scared to face life, too scared to face strangers, and too scared to consider any type of intimacy. I think I am going to be jumping at every sound that I hear behind me and still running to a safe place just because I see a similar van or someone who looks similar to that guy. I think I will try and fail at a career and end up working at some type of position that an automaton could do so that I won't have to think. I can see myself so stressed out that I am forced to enter in a mental health facility so that the courts believe that I will be safe from myself. A part of me longs for an existence in a hospital where I am virtually catatonic and kept in a semi conscious zombie like state with some really strong drugs. I'm not sure that is a fix, well I am reasonably sure it isn't a fix, but I think it would be better than feeling a constant gnawing pain that makes me want to kill myself.

3) Where do I think I am now?

I think I am going through the motions in a foolish attempt to trick myself into thinking that healing is possible. I think I am in hell trying to swim to shore but each sluggish attempt to swim only pushes me further into the burning lava where is can burn my heart and eyes. I think I am pessimistic instead of optimistic and I am at a loss as to how to fix it.

Fork, 911

Last Thursday wasn't a good day. It wasn't just a day absent of good, but it was a bad day. I guess I should be use to it by now being that all of my days are bad days. I want all of my online support friends to know something, I have been lying to all of you. I'm not really sure why I have been lying. A part of me believes that if I lie to myself enough by telling myself that I am going to get through this I somehow magically will. A part of me is also scared that I will hurt others so I lie. I tell people that I am okay, but even worse than that I pretend that I am okay. I put out this totally fake persona that is literally meant to deceive everyone around me so that they don't know the truth. I will get to the truth later in this post perhaps.

I was sitting at the lunchroom table at school last Thursday next to a few people I get along with. I don't want to call them my friends because that too would be a lie. If I said I had any genuine friends at my new school I would be lying, I only have people I get along with. Everyone else around me was talking and eating their lunch, but I was just staring at the ingredients label on the back of my single serving milk. Like everyday at school I was simply wishing I wasn't there. I kept fumbling with a band-aid that was on my left wrist from where I accidentally burned my wrist on a skillet when I was cooking supper the night before. It wasn't a bad burn by any means, but it was a little tender and felt a little uncomfortable against my sleeve. One of the girls that was sitting at the table with me noticed that I was messing with the band-aid and she asked me, "What happened? Did you try and kill yourself?"

I didn't reply back, I pretended that I didn't hear her. I pulled my sleeve down over the palm of my hand to cover the band-aid hoping that she would just shut-up, but she didn't. She said to everyone else at the table, "Look, Jaime tried to kill herself."

No one at my new school knows what happened to me, so I guess i can assume that everyone's actions are out of ignorance. As soon as she lied and told everyone that I tried to kill myself, some laughed, one wanted to know why I would do that, and another one asked to see my wrist. I don't know why but for some reason I showed everyone my wrist. I guess I thought they would see it's just a band-aid and let it go. The band-aid goes across my wrist, not up and down. The same girl that began the whole ordeal then laughed and said, "Look, Jaime is too stupid to even do it the right way."

I understand that she was just trying to be funny and she had no idea of what I am dealing with, but it just hit me the wrong way. I picked up my half full milk carton and poured it on her notebook that she was studying out of. I then said (verbatim), "Bitch, I know how to kill myself if I want to kill myself. I know to cut my wrist lengthwise so that the bleeding will be harder to stop."

I then opened my purse and pulled out 4 bottles of prescription medication and said, "Even if I didn't have a knife which I have plenty of at home, I could down a few dozen of any combination of these and that might do the trick. If I wanted to be sure that my attempt to kill myself was successful I would jump off the overpass to the interstate and let an 18 wheeler run me over, that would do the trick."

I pulled my sleeve up and ripped the band-aid off my wrist and then asked, "Do you want to see me bleed? You must want to if you think suicide attempts are so funny."

I grabbed my fork off my lunch tray and jammed it against my wrist and dragged it up my arm leaving four bleeding scratch marks about eight inches long. "Is that enough blood for you?"

Again I dragged the fork up my arm making myself bleed even more. I did this five or six times before a teacher grabbed the fork out of my hand and escorted me to the front office.

As you can imagine this caused quite a stir, but it wasn't like I had a knife that could actually cut me. The only thing the fork could do was make scratches that bled a little, not even enough to warrant any medical attention. The school called my dad at work and told him that there was an emergency and that he needed to come to the school right away. The school dean and counselor was treating this as an attempted suicide and they actually called 911. So now there is a policeman standing in front of me, a fireman EMT, and a priest (being that I go to a catholic private school). Dad comes running in the front door just after he ran past a cop car, ambulance, and fire truck in the parking lot. I can only assume that dad assumed the worse walking in. Dad looked confused because he saw that I was okay. Long story short my dad filled them all in on the fact that I am having some emotional issues while I just sat there. He didn't go into detail, he just told them enough so that they knew I was in therapy. They suggested that I leave with dad and talk to my therapist before I return to school.

Thursday's are my normal therapy days so dad and I went home and then left home at 2:30 to take me to my therapy appointment. As you can imagine the things that happened at school became the subject of discussion in therapy. My therapist kept asking me question about how I felt before all of that, how did I feel when that girl made those comments, and how did I fell as I was scratching myself with the fork. The truth is when I was scratching myself with the fork it felt good, the pain felt good. I felt like I deserved the pain and I felt like I was getting what I wanted. I explained that to my therapist and then she asked me, "What are you thinking about as you look back at what happened at school?"

I didn't even think about the answer, I simply blurted out, "It would have worked better if I had a strait razor."

So now everyone at school thinks I am suicidal, my dad thinks I am suicidal, my therapist thinks I am suicidal and has asked my dad to keep a closer eye on me. More than that, I think I am suicidal. That's the truth, but that's not the scary part. The scary part is that the realization that I am suicidal doesn't scare me. Shouldn't it be freaking me out? In all honesty, I am somewhat calmed by the thought of my own death. I also realized something; the only reason why I haven't killed myself is because I don't want to hurt the people who foolishly care about me. I don't care about me, but I do care about others. I just wish I knew a way to convince people what I already know, THAT I AM NOT WORTH CARING ABOUT. If I could convince them of that truth, I could bring my pain to an end, I could cry my last tear, and I could leave those painful memories behind.

I guess I am just being stupid and the douche bag of a busy body whore from school was right. I just wish no one cared about me so I could do what I need to do to end this pain.

Update: March 7th, 2012 - 5:30 pm

Since people think I am going to kill myself or over reacting I just thought I would add this last part.

Just because I am suicidal doesn't mean I am so stupid that I will kill myself.

Question 8 (Therapy Assignment)

Question Submitted By BradDavisDude.

Q: How has this whole tragedy affected your trust in men and do you think you will be able to trust men enough to date again?

A: In general terms it has affected my trust in men, especially at first. I think it is because my assailant happened to be male and because men are nearly always so much more physically stronger than me. It makes me feel vulnerable to be around men. I don't want people to misunderstand me, I don't think all men are dangerous or that all men are willing to rape. I have simply acknowledged that with the vast majority of men, if they made the choice to hurt me, I am physically less able to defend myself because I am not as strong as a man. That realization makes me cautious and I imagine that extra caution will be something that I have for the rest of my life.

A: I think I will be able to date again, but with me it really isn't dating again. I have never really been on a date in the first place. So I guess the question is do I think I will be able to date men in the future. The simple answer to that is yes, however the reality of it is a little different. I think a traditional meet and date scenario is less of a possibility. What I mean by that is that I would not do the whole blind date thing or go on a date with someone that I don't know. There is two exceptions to this rule. If a trusted friend knew this person, or we went on some double dates. Other than that I think I would have to become "REAL" friends with a guy before I was able to trust them enough to go on a date with them where I could potentially feel vulnerable and alone.

Eventually I do want to go on dates, I want to marry, and I want children, but more than that I want to trust myself and others so that those things are possible. Until I learn to trust again, dating is simply impractical. Of course I do have to admit that part of the process of learning to trust again may involve putting myself in situations such as a date where I feel vulnerable so that I can then face my fears. I just know I'm a long way off from there, and I have trouble foreseeing a time when I will be there.

Question 4 of 10 (Therapy Assignment)

Self interview assignment question 4 of 10. Questions were submitted by my supporters through my blog and then approved by my therapist.

Question Submitted by misfitspartan.

Q: In what ways has your attack strengthened or bettered you and your life?

A: Damn, this is a loaded question. I'm sort of at a loss as to where to start. I guess I will start with did my assault better my life. The simple answer is "NO", but if I examine my assault with hopeful eyes in terms of years from now I would have to say that my assault will better my life. I am a true believer in the phrase, "Knowledge is power." Although I trust less now than I use to, I am also less naive. I know bad things happen and that I am not immune to it. I always thought that things like this would never happen to me, it always happens to someone else. Now I know the truth and that truth is that anyone can become a victim at any time. I have also learned of numerous resources that I not only can use to help me but I can help others. I guess that sort of comes back to knowledge. So yes, my assault has bettered me because among the chaos, pain, mental despair, and heartache there is a possibility of a bright future for me driven by knowledge that I can share.

Has my attack strengthened my life? I think I am compelled to look at this question much the same way. In immediate terms I do not feel strengthened, I feel weakened and broken, but when I think about the possibilities of a brighter future years down the road I have to admit that my assault will strengthen me. I think there is some truth in the phrase, "What doesn't kill me. only makes me stronger." I believe with time and effort I will have the strength to help others in a more personal way. It will be a type of strength that I normally wouldn't have access to if I had not been a victim who became a survivor so that one day I can become a thrivor.

This question reminds me of a question that came up either on a support forum or a chat room. That question is (verbatim), "If you could give up the knowledge and strength you have gained and the knowledge and strength you will gain, would you choose to change the past."

At this point in time there is very little that I wouldn't do to change the past and make it so that none of this had never happened. In the future I might be less willing to give up any knowledge or strength I have gained. It is even possible that my life could be changed so much for the better that in time I could even refuse to change the past even if it were possible. I think a lot of it will depend on how much of an impact my future will have on my betterment and knowledge, and how well I am able to share that knowledge and betterment upon someone else who needs it. As of right now I have trouble imagining that I can heal and much less make a difference in other people's lives.

Question 3 of 10 (Therapy Assignment)

Self interview assignment question 3 of 10. Questions were submitted by my supporters through my blog and then approved by my therapist.

Question submitted by Wabs

Q: How does the relationship with your family (father, sister, nanna) feel now, then before this happened? Do you think your reaction if this had not happened be different to what it is now?

Q: "How does the relationship with your family (father, sister, nanna) feel now, then before this happened?"

A: My relationship with my family in some ways feels closer and further away at the same time. For example I know without a doubt that I can go to my family with anything now. I know that there's nothing that is so big hat I shouldn't go to them. Before I knew I could go to them but there was always a thought that some things are too big. We are closer in a lot of ways in terms of a supportive family structure but we also seem more separated in terms of emotional pain. They support me, but they don't really get what I am going through. They try to but it is impossible unless they have had a similar experience. I am glad they don't understand because it would kill me if they really understood.

Q: "Do you think your reaction if this had not happened be different to what it is now?"

A: Sure it would be different. My reactions toward someone else would be supportive but I wouldn't really understand what they were going through. If it were a stranger that this happened to and none of it would have happened to me, I would have felt bad for them and supported them but my thoughts would have moved from them not long after reading or hearing about what happened. I think a part of me would be asking the same question I ask myself. I would want to know why that person got into that van. I would be thinking to myself that she made a bad decision. I wouldn't blame her because it wouldn't be her fault but i would acknowledge to myself that this person could have made wiser choices. I think that's one reason why I am so hard on myself, because I am judging myself like I probably would judge someone who would be in my situation. Please don't misunderstand me, I would never blame the victim even if I had not been a victim myself. However if I had not been a victim I would have blindly made the assumption that I would have been too smart to fall victim to that kind of manipulation. Again, this is one reason why I am so hard on myself.

Question 2 of 10 (Therapy Assignment)

Self interview assignment question 2 of 10. Questions were submitted by my supporters through my blog and then approved by my therapist.

Question submitted by Author Unknown

Q: How do you think others saw you before your assault, and how do you think they see you now?

A: (before) I think others saw me as the typical teen girl just a little weird.

A: (after) Now I think people view me in different ways, it depends on who they are.

My Dad:

I think he views me with as much or more love than he did before my assault. He also thinks of me as more fragile. I am pretty sure that he has lost trust in me to make the right choices in life, after all I made the wrong choice to get into that guys van. I went against dad's wishes and took a ride with someone I didn't really know. Worse than anything, I think he sees me as a non-virgin.

My Little Sister:

I don't think her opinions have changed all that much except for one thing. I think she stopped viewing me as invincible.

My Extended Family: (cousins, aunts, uncles, grandparents)

I think most of my extended family view me much the same way dad does. I am sure they are as dumbfounded as I am as to why I would get into his van. I'm sure they are wondering if I have some sort of mental deficiency that disallowed me to see the danger before my eyes. I think all of them think they would have seen the danger if it were them instead of me. I know for a fact that some of them look at me as broken. During Thanksgiving I overheard a family member (my grampa - mom's dad) tell his brother, "I don't think she (me) will have a normal life now."

My Friends:

I honestly think most of them think I am stupid.

My Online Support Friends:

I think most pity me and feel sorry for me so much that they have the need to lie to me and tell me that I am brave. I think most of them care deeply for me. I think a few of them think I am making all of this up and they are just itching for me to contradict myself or give enough information that they can use to prove me to be a fraud. I think many of my online support gets tired of supporting me and thinks to themselves that it is pointless. I think many of them get frustrated and would walk away and concentrate on their own healing if they thought I would be safe from myself.

Another Suggested Assignment By My Therapist (STEP 1)

My therapist loves to give me assignments where I self examine my own emotions, and to be honest I like them too. Don't misunderstand, I hate the flood of emotions and pain that can come from these assignments but I do really like how these assignments help me understand myself. Here is the assignment, it is similar to the self interview I posted a couple of months ago but with one major difference. In that self interview my therapist was the one who gave me the questions, but in this interview the regular readers of my blog are the ones who get to ask the questions. Here is how it is suppose to work. Each person who reads this and has a question they would like to ask me, all they need to do is ask it in a comment bellow this post. As the questions come in I email them to my therapist and she approves them. I'm not 100% sure why, but she wants to approve them before I answer them. Once 10 approved questions has been asked I will answer these questions in a new post.

Here are the rules: (per my therapist)

People can ask more than one question, but as much as possible take turns asking them so that the questions are being asked by more than one person. Preferable 10 questions by 10 people but realistically I am hoping for about 2 by each person since I only have about 5 regulars on my blog.

The questions can be about anything as long as they aren't solely meant to satisfy some sort of morbid curiosity.

The questions should be personal in nature so that they force me to self examine.

I am given one and only pass on any of the 10 questions that are approved.

Once 10 questions are approved I have up to 1 month to answer them.

As a each question is asked I will email that question to my therapist and she will approve it or reject it. I will let each person know if there question was approved.

Let the questioning commence, and remember, the quicker I get the questions the quicker I can get them approved and begin them.

Physical Therapy - A Futile Endeavor

Wednesday after I got out of school I went to my therapist. Most of you already are familiar with the fact that I have a therapist for my emotional issues that stem directly from the PTSD I have from my assault, but the therapist I went to Wednesday was a different kind of therapist. This therapist is a physical therapist who is trying to help me regain dexterity with my hands.

Cheiralgia Paresthetica is a type of nerve damage that can happen in the wrist. It is generally caused by the sensory branch of the radial nerve in the wrist being compressed. Some of the most common causes of this compression is wrist restraints. Handcuffs under normal lawful use have a bad reputation for causing a temporary and even prolonged neuropathy in the wrists, hands, and fingers. Cheiralgia Paresthetica can also be caused by any item that is wrapped tightly enough around the wrist that it pinches the nerves that go to the hand. It is very common for those who have been restrained for extended periods of time in situations reminiscent of hostage situations where the captor has little to no concern for the well being of their hostage. In many cases after the action which is pinching the nerve is removed, the negative effects of the nerve damage dissipates over a few minutes to several weeks with the use NSAIDs (aspirin and naproxen sodium), but sometimes it requires physical therapy.

The symptoms are somewhat different with each person being that the nerve damage is seldom the same from one person to another, however they do have some common attributes. Some of the common symptoms are numbness, tingling, burning, and a general lack of sensation in part or most of the hands and fingers. The symptoms I have is numbness in the back part of my hands, side of my thumbs, and index fingers. I also often have a burning sensation in my fingertips and palms. This often makes it difficult for me to type, write, or any other task that requires dexterity.

Immediately after my assault being that my assailant kept me restrained for most of the 23 hours that he kept me, I had severe debilitating numbness and marginalized dexterity in my hands and fingers. Over time much of the coordination has returned, but a good portion of the numbness, tingling, and burning is still there.

I have seen a physical therapist once a month since all of this happened. Wednesday was the fifth time I had a session. Unfortunately, my therapist told me that being that the damage to my wrist occurred more than 5 months ago and I still am having symptoms, the likelihood of a full recovery is next to zero. That kind of bums me out a little. I use to be able to type pretty good, but now I am slow because I can't always tell if I pushed the key. I never really had good penmanship, but now it really sucks.

Between the physical scars, nerve damage, and emotional scars, I just feel broken. I'm tired and discouraged and feel like giving up on everything. I don't mean I feel like giving up on life, I just mean that I feel like giving up on me. I don't really feel like I have the energy or desire to heal on an emotional level. It's almost like I have grown to believe that there really is no point behind putting myself through all of the emotional pain in order to heal because I will still be broken physically. I know how retarded that sounds because there are so many people who have much worse physical damage than I have. I really don't know what I'm saying. I guess I'm just tired of trying and trying and not feeling like I am getting anywhere.

I wish I could sleep, I think that would help. The lack of sleep is really getting to me. I am really beginning to have trouble concentrating on anything, it's like my mind is in a fog. I have tried so many different things to help me sleep but nothing works unless I double or triple up on the medication. Drinking alcohol helps me sleep, but it's not like I should be doing that, and much less on a regular basis. The only other thing that works is time, because after several days with no sleep, I crash. I get so little sleep that I have been asked to take a drug test because my therapist assumed I was on meth. I thought that was funny and insulting at the same time.

I'm just tired and need a vacation from being me.

A Survivors Bill Of Rights

A woman in my support group wrote this and I thought I would share it here. It sure would be nice if it was like this.

Preamble To A Survivors Bill Of Rights

We the Survivors of any form of abuse or assault in order to create a more just environment for healing, emotional support, peace of mind, and mental tranquility establish A Survivors Bill Of Rights to secure the blessings of happiness, emotional liberty, and survivor kinship for all survivors.

A Survivors Bill Of Rights

1) People shall make no negative interpretations of who is or isn't a survivor, nor shall any negative judgments be unduly placed upon the shoulders of a survivor.

2) A well intent support structure necessary for the security of a survivors emotional well being shall not be infringed.

3) No survivor in time of crisis or any other time shall have the undue burden of dealing with their emotions by themselves.

4) The rights of a survivor to secure their own peace of mind, cry out for support, and lean on the shoulders of others shall not be violated.

5) No survivor shall be pressured to answer any questions of others they don't feel comfortable answering or talking about. Nor shall any survivor be compelled by ones self or others to engage, read, or contribute to any discussion, conversation, or subject which that survivor isn't ready or chooses not to engage in.

6) In all criminal prosecutions the survivor shall not be put through an unfair, unjust, and cruel cross examination from the courts, prosecution, or assailants family and friends. Further all survivors shall be treated with the utmost respect, courtesy, and comforting manner by all parties involved and the accused shall be restricted from verbal, visual, mental, and physical intimidation towards the survivor.

7) In all cases in which the prosecution of the assailant has been deemed justified and found the assailant guilty of the crime of physical abuse, mental abuse, verbal abuse, sexual abuse, and/or rape, the survivor shall have the right to legal recourse and monetary compensation for pain and suffering, emotional distress, and reimbursement for any and all expenses as a result of medical, emotional, and mental well being rather it be temporary or ongoing. Further the courts shall enforce this compensation under penalty of further imprisonment of the assailant.

8) Excessive questioning, stress, and invasive examination shall not be imposed upon the survivor in a cruel and uncaring way.

9) These survivor rights shall never be misconstrued or improperly used to limit the rights of that survivor or other survivors.

10) The rights of a survivors personal information, privacy, and circumstances of their assault shall not be trampled upon or unfairly reported and scrutinized by the media rather it be in print, in digital format, on the radio, or on television.

The Ratification of A Survivors Bill Of Rights of all the survivors in the world, shall be sufficient for the Establishment of this Survivors Bill Of Rights. This is done in this forum by the Unanimous Consent of the Survivors present the Sixth Day of September in the Year of two thousand and eleven and of the well being of all survivors of the world. We have hereunto subscribed our Names,

Julia

Free Writing Exercise Just Because I am Bored

I was reading a blog named Because You Are Worth Waiting For owned by an online friend of mine earlier. On this blog she did a free writing exercise where she set a timer for five minutes and wrote continuously without regard to grammar, spelling, or plot. Basically just transferring random thought into type. I am going to do that because I am bored and I think my friend had fun doing it. I will stop at the end of five minutes even if I am in the middle of a thought. Here is goes, the timer is set for five minutes.

The blinking curser on the screenaggravates me, I can't type the heater just kicked on. my head hurts I wonder why the hell am I doing this I must really be board. my nose itches anf I need to shave my legs . I have to do laundry in the morning ,peacok my cat is snoring. i am more board with this than I thought I woulf be. now my head itches I cant even stop typing so that I can scratch because this is suppose to be non stop typing who in the wotrld came up wuth this and what is the pointt oto itr I have no idea but I do know I need to take a typing vcal class because this is fidic ridiculas I am officially the worls d wortst typist okay now I get it Iam laughing at my self and noew I cant stop laughing my cat woke up and i am hoping this five minute is over with so I can gop back to watching my name is earl on tv. I think its a stupid sho but still kinda funny I sort od wish friends was on instead. man this is a long foive minutes I have so may n many typos I doubt people will even un derstand what I am typing. I really need to learn how to type. My fingers are not very coordinated  my nose is itching now now im iching all over  I really need to scrathc./

A Description Of A Dream/Nightmare

This is one of the dreams that I have quite often, of course there are several versions of this dream but for the most part they are the same. Last Monday while in therapy I brought up the fact that I have been having bad dreams that often turn into ultra real nightmares. She wanted me to talk about them that day but I was feeling really uncomfortable talking about them plus I really needed to talk about the events that happened to me last Wednesday. However I do believe the topic of discussion this coming Monday will be about my dreams. Being that this dream is a description of the dream I had this morning it will likely be the specific one I talk about.

Begin Trigger Warning - Begin Dream

I open my eyes but all I see is darkness. I don't even see the slightest bit of ambient light. There are no shadows, sounds, or sense of anything in this room or place. There's a total lack of sensory input. I can't even tell if I'm standing, sitting, or lying down. There's no sense of gravity or even what's up or down. I can't feel my body, I have no discernible physical attributes and for all accounts I am simply consciousness.

After what seems to be an eternity I begin to feel a physical sensation. It's very vague at first but slowly I feel tingling that feels like it starts behind my eyes and then spreads throughout my body until it reaches my finger tips and toes. Unfortunately the tingling doesn't go away, instead it builds and hurts all over similar to the feeling of blood rushing back into an extremity. Much like the feeling of having a hand or arm that has fallen asleep but 10 times more intense. As this sensation begins to fade I hear scratching sounds that's similar to fingernails on a chalkboard. Long drawn out scratches that move from one location in this pitch black place to another. I hear it sporadically in front of me, behind me, above and below me. It's a sound that's all around but I can tell it's a distant sound. Soon the sound becomes louder and I can tell the source of this sound is moving closer.

I feel a huge sense of nervousness, a sense of an impending danger but I am unable to move. I'm frozen but it's not fear that hold me captive, it's something else. Slowly as the tingling in my extremities fades even more, I can feel myself being stretched in 3 direction at the same time. My hands are grasping one another but even if I released my grasp they wouldn't part. My wrists are hurting, they are burning, they feel like they are in a vise. My ankles feel much the same way but they aren't stuck together, they are pulled from one another.

The scratching sound keeps getting closer and it's soon replaced by a quiet growl and breathing sound. The growl doesn't sound human, nor does the breathing. It sounds predatory, it sounds like evilness stalking its prey. I hear very quiet foot steps slowly stalking me. I begin to feel my weight and can finally discern up from down. I'm lying on my back, the floor is cold and hard. I suddenly realize why I feel trapped, I am trapped. My hands are being held over my head and my wrists are being pushed against the floor.

I smell a stench similar to a dirty wet dog and feel something dripping on me. I don't know what it is or where it's dripping from. Then from above my face I feel a breath, a hot, damp breath that floods my face, nose, and eyes. This room begins to transition from pitch black to that of a late evening. A form, a dark shape begins to become visible overtop of me. I see a mouth with pointed teeth and eyes glowing a pulsating and very deep red. This beast is salivating and it's saliva is dripping on my face in anticipation of it's feast. I look around but there's nothing for this beast to feast on, there's no food, and suddenly I realize that I'm his feast.

The beast growls and howls as it moves over-top of me. I feel it's massive weight and I feel my body being torn into shreds. It's teeth drip with my blood and I can feel myself begin to die. My will to live is diminishing and my soul is evaporating. My own breaths become shallow and labored as this beast reaches into my mouth grasping my tongue, pulling it out just long enough to bite it off. I try to cry out for help but I'm choking on my own blood that's filling my mouth. I cough, spitting a red mix of blood an saliva into the face of the beast. The beast's claw is pointing at me, his claw moves closer to my face. It carves a line down the side of my face, splitting my skin like a scalpel. I try to scream for help but the only sound I make is a gurgling sound. This beast leans in an laps his tongue in and out of my mouth, savoring the taste of my blood. Then it uses the same claw it used to cut my face to tap on my forehead as if it was contemplating what to do next. It didn't have to think long. Its claw entered the corner of my left eye and pried out my eye. With the only eye I had left I seen the beast chew my severed eye and then swallow it. As I saw the same claw coming toward my other eye, I closed my eyelid and began to pray. I kept waiting to feel my other eye be ripped out but it doesn't happen.

The room once again goes silent. I wait, and wait, and wait for any sound, any movement but I hear nothing. I want to open my eye to see if the beast is still there but I'm too scared. I lay there nearly motionless for what seems like an hour. Finally I gain the courage to open my eye. I'm surrounded by 5 or 6 beasts. Each beast is uniquely different than the one next to them. The one that was feasting on me was also there and it must have been the leader. It growled and snarled as if it was telling the other beasts to remain still. Then it stepped backward into the shadows of the other beasts. With sudden viciousness all the other beast swarmed me. Piece by piece I felt myself being torn into chunks and then swallowed.

End Trigger Warning - End Dream

This is when I awake from my dream. I'm usually screaming and covered in sweat.

This is a reoccurring dream that I have had at least a dozen times in the past 9 weeks. I am going to try and talk about this face to face with my therapist this coming Monday. I don't know if I will be able to.

I want this dream to stop, and I would do nearly anything to stop it.