Today I'm writing from the bath tub because this is where I need to be right now. This, for today, is my reflective space. Here, I feel grounded, and at peace. The warmth of the water stills the mind and my words should flow a little clearer now.
In the early hours of this morning I woke up scared and angry. I think blogging about my ex yesterday must have triggered a memory, and something really painful emerged from inside. The beginning of the dream starts with me standing in a large room and robots enter with lasers (yes this sounds ridiculous but stick with me). I'm wearing a headset and can hear my husband talking to me, instructing me to pick up the music box in front of me, and wind the handle. Unsure at first. he assures me that the robots will approach me, but will not attack as long as I have the music box. He tells me that once the handle is turned, I am to run to what looks like a rabbit hole, and descend underground. I feel as if I'm in a game.
I do as he asks.
But deep underground is a rock with facial features that resemble The Green Man. I can't hear my husband anymore but can hear the rock speaking to someone I can't see. As soon as he spots me, his facial features fade and he is a rock again. My husband begins talking to me again, and suddenly I'm in a bed asleep. I can see myself sleeping, but have this intense fear of loss and sadness when I awake.
(Still in my dream)
Next to me is a cushion, no husband, no sound, just a whitewashed room devoid of life. I descend the stairs and sense my ex. I can only explain this feeling as one of dread; a stomach dropping sensation where you've lost something and panic sets in. In front of me is, what looks like my husband, yet I know it's not him. I run for the front door and manage to get outside. He follows me and uses the same term of endearments that my husband so frequently does, but I can't look back. His eyes are fire.
Suddenly I run into my family who stop me in the street. Each of them are trying to convince me that this man is my husband but my heart is beating so fast that I'm struggling to breathe. My eyes fill with black specks and I'm asleep again.
(Still in my dream)
I awake in a hotel room overlooking the city. My step-brother and sister-in-law are with me, and they are concerned. They feed me as I awake but I can't move. My body is frozen. I see both above myself and within. I see the city outside without moving from my bed. I see the locked doors of the hotel room, and I feel that something has been stolen from me.
I feel him here again.
I can hear him.
I know he's in the room but I can't warn anyone.
My consciousness fades as I shout for my husband one last time.
My voice breaks through.
My step-brother grabs his wife's hand.
They both look at me with concern.
"Who is Martin?" they ask.
My husband has gone.
I have had this reoccurring dream for the past few years, and each time I'm faced with the same grief of losing a husband, or having my ex take his place. I wake up angry, confused, distant and feeling abandoned.
These dreams are crippling; so real that the cycle of waking and sleeping within a dream becomes disorientating. Today I needed to ground myself and invite light into my life. I met a friend and we reconnected over food and drinks, I told her that my heart desires this pure connection within friendships and relationships, and that working on myself has been hard. Without consciously knowing, I've been doing a lot of Shadow Work within my practice to address trauma and process things I haven't properly grieved for. The devil is in the detail it would seem. Embedded within my vivid dreams and later reflections on them, it would seem.
Again, they are raw, triggering, insightful.
They are all of me.
And I am all of them.
Until next time.
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