I write the most at 3 am
I Blame my inner screams on the silence and the dreams that wake me up triggering my fingers to type.
I don’t want to write; to think, or to feel. At least not feel the emotions that are prompting these words. I have been hell bent on healing and finding a soft patch of grass in my mind to rest my tired soul upon; and for that reason alone I’m typing despite my distaste for the uncomfortable emotions.
Tonight, it is my dreams that are causing me to squirm. I can’t name the emotion because I don’t know what to call it. Sadness, maybe, mixed with a little panic. That’s it, I woke up feeling panicked.
I dream about my husband a lot. That he is going to decide one day he has had enough and leave me. In my mind this fear is founded, because everyone leaves in the end, it’s just a matter of time.
I spend entire relationships trying to avoid this end, a type of death. If I’m not trying to fix it before it happens I cut people off, leave them before they leave me; or I avoid relationships altogether. The latter of which I turn to most often for it the least heartbreaking.
In my most recent dream I know this is what is going on with me because of the scene that followed. I dreamt of my mother.
She had bought the kids and I food, McDonald’s to be exact, but dumped it in the sink and ran water over it before anyone could eat. I yelled at her saying, “throw mine away, but not my kids. You will not hurt them like you did me. This is abuse” and the word abuse slithered out of my mouth like a snake smelling prey.
If I had woken up to a busy house then I would have been able to shake these feelings, they would have gotten lost in the chaos of motherhood. But instead, I woke up to a sleeping family and I am left to actually sift through the emotions.
I have an amazing therapist and I wish I could call her right now. If I could, this is what I would tell her.
I would say I am becoming more secure in my relationships. I’m allowing my husband to touch me whenever he wants, in fact
I am even initiating touch. I would say I’m sorry for canceling my appointment today, that I’m avoiding it because things are getting hard and uncomfortable.
But the words that are hidden so deep are the ones that need said the most
but I can’t bring them to my tongue. It is the belly of the beast that tortures me.
I just want my mother to love me. Sometimes, I think to myself, any mother will do. I silently pray somebody will stand up and fill that void in my heart and become a surrogate mother but in truth, all I really want is for my own mother to accept me. To love me.
And with that, im putting these emotions to rest and moving on.