No matter how bad things become – the nightmares, my health, my innate worthlessness – miracles and blessings still punctuate every page of my story. My life is guided by the hand of God and I feel his power so acutely, I am in awe. Two miracles in the past 24 hours have blessed my life, improving my hopes and my immediate future. I am grateful, so deeply thankful and incredibly humbled by a love which never stops giving, never stops caring, never stops supporting me over each and every obstacle.
Thank you, God. I love you. I really do.
Last night’s awful dreams destroyed my day. I awoke from my nightmares this morning feeling stressed and exhausted. Eight hours later, I feel no better. I have been weepy and bad tempered all day. Even getting out and about didn’t help, although that could be due to the ongoing pain in my side following surgery in January. My mind and body feel so tired and battered. I want to run away and hide, to find a cave in which I can feel safe.
Why do I still dream of that backstabbing liar? Why can’t The (Un)Forgiven One stop stalking my sleep? I suspected things would get harder in October, as this month inflames painful scars, yet I honestly believed this year would be less cruel. I thought my sleep would be better… that I would be better. Silly, I know. Why would my worthlessness suddenly disappear? How? It can’t.
Yesterday, I went to visit the baby I had felt scared to touch again after last month’s experience. I held the baby! I cuddled him and showed him love. I was proud of myself for overcoming my fears, only to fall asleep hours later to be faced with visions of the most terrifying man of all: The (Un)Forgiven One.
You cannot imagine the demon he is in my sleep. His nature is selfish and cruel in real life but in my nightmares it is intensified beyond description. The full force of the evil-monger and black-hearted backstabber that I have come to know so well is unleashed and unstoppable. He tells the world I am worthless. He laughs at my humiliation. He enjoys seeing me suffer. Still, I am nice to him. In every nightmare, I never fight back; I show him kindness. I try to be accepted. I strive for his compassion.
It never comes.
I start panicking in my sleep because I suddenly feel so overwhelmingly helpless. The sensation of powerlessness is almost paralysing. My heart feels frozen and I cannot breathe. It’s unbearable. Eventually, I wake up. My face is wet with tears and my chest aches. I gulp in deep breath after deep breath but I can’t ever seem to calm down. I feel exhausted and defeated. There’s relief, too, that I am awake and alone but I don’t feel safe. I know I am never safe because another night will quickly come. More dreams will follow. The cycle never stops. I am helpless.
Last night, I had one of the most horrific nightmares about The (Un) Forgiven One. It was the worst nightmare yet. In all the years I have been terrorised in my sleep by this man, no vision has ever been quite as disturbing and spine-chilling as the one which raped my sleep last night. Thsee nightmares need to stop. Just Stop. Go away. Finish. Die. I cannot function during the day after living through a night of terror. I am distressed and exhausted.
I am worried that the dream was a bad omen: an indication of impending doom from which I shall be unable to escape. Why, after all these years and months of therapy, do these dreams persist? I have accepted my worthlessness; I have accepted why I was mistreated and backstabbed; I have accepted that I do not deserve friends, family nor love. What more do I have to do to move forward? Why do I need reminders of my worthlessness in my sleep? I know I am nothing. An ugly, unhealthy, worthless, unemployed nothing. Go away, evil nightmares. Just go away.
The road is thick with fog and fear. The Earth beneath my feet moves as if it’s alive; every step forward braves unseen hazards. I have no idea where I am or where this path shall lead. Yet, there exists a calm within this murky expanse; I feel the heartbeat of the fog as it inhales and exhales. We are moving as one; bound to one another by an invisible connection. We drift ahead cheek to cheek, our breaths intermingling like lingering lovers sharing a kiss – an exchange of trust between human and nature.
I am not living in the same way as others but I am experiencing the life for which I was always meant. That’s enough. That’s actually a blessing. My obstacles are many but my blessings are far greater.
God is here, with me, for me and in support of my choices. I feel very lucky. I am not alone. He is with me even in the thick of the fog; even in the sinking Earth; even in the kiss of the night.
My quest to help those I love is beset on all sides by hurdles, obstacles and challenges determined to block my every path. The foremost of these is my health: surgery in January has not eradicated the daily pain which burns within my lOwer abdomen. It hurts beyond measure. I do my best to continue with daily life, and to keep my social media profiles alive with false cheer to fool prospective employers yet I spend hours having to hide away, curled up in agony, forced indoors. This is not living.
It’s done; the past is over and the future awaits. I may not be excited about this fact, yet I am not without focus for the years ahead. Recent events have steered my course and I am already adrift: a boat riding the unstoppable tide.
Once upon a time, I would have fought to jump overboard, committing my soul to its watery grave: plummeting peacefully through the cleansing depths towards a resting bed cocooned in ever-blackening night.
Yes, I belong to Death but Life has called me into service and I am obliged to fulfil my duty. I expect this will prove to be harrowing at times but I am ready. I am caught in the midst of war and I am required to fight for the benefit of the few treasured people whom I hold dear.
I can feel God’s hand upon me, squeezing reassuringly as I squirm. His hand squeezes tightly, to prevent my Death and to protect my fragile soul for however long it shall take to complete my service. My time has come to stand brave and fight to the finish. What a strange state of affairs, to be so ready to die yet fighting so fervently to live.
I am sorry to say that there are things in life that are far worse than longing to die and being worthless. Just when I think my time is done, my purpose is non-existent and I need to die as soon as possible, God plunges me into yet another emergency, highlighting the ways in which others need my help. It’s a sign. I didn’t want it, and would rather turn a blind eye, but it’s too late for that. I am involved. I am a participant. I am affected. Most of all, I am panicked and very, very scared.
This has been such a sad day. A truly sour and awful day. Those of us affected are all spending this evening feeling scared, shocked and broken hearted. I cannot express how much I wish that today’s events could be rewritten into a happier narrative. Please God, use your power to change what has come to pass. I finally get it; no more praying to die. I will stay where I am needed and do my best for all time if you, please, please, fix everything. I am begging you to erase today’s nightmare and rewrite the future with a happy ending. Please stop the crisis; please help in any and every way that you can.
I will tear down Heaven and Earth to help as well. I will do whatever is required of me – anything. I will not stop until I have done everything within my power to change the outcome of this gut-wrenchingly horrible situation. I promise.