I had a horrible nightmare last night. I think I triggered it myself with my previous blog. In my dream, I was hospitalized again and it was absolutely terrible. It was (and still is-my heart is racing as I’m writing this) the feelings that came along in the dream that were the worst.
The only good thing was that my former pastor, Mike, was there. He made a brief appearance and in my dream, he worked in the hospital. He wasn’t much encouragement though. I was asking him if I’d be out in 3 days and he told me that the assessment takes 3 days and THEN your time starts! I was mortified. Obviously, this ties back into the fact that I was hospitalized for way more than the minimum 3 days last time. I also remember being enraged and feeling everything was unfair when I found out that in real life, you don’t even need to stay the minimum of 3 days. They can let you out earlier than that. I was told that the hospital I was at was known for NOT letting people out because it affected them getting paid. I was told that if they didn’t keep people for over the minimum, then they got paid nothing by insurance companies. I find this hard to believe, but it makes sense in that they kept me there despite my protests to leave. F**k that place. I’m so pissed off that I’m still paying them…and the fact that I HAVE to pay them even though I refused to go there!!!
Anyway, the other goofy thing in my dream was that we did ballet. I have to admit that was humorous to me when I woke up. And one bad thing was that some of the same people were there who were there in real life. Someone asked me how the girl was who committed suicide. They didn’t know because they had been locked up and had no contact. I had to break the news that she was now deceased. That was terrible.
Even though my 911 friend doesn’t read here anymore, clearly I’m still feeling a ton of fear related to what I say here. So let me make things clear so I can feel some relief. I HAVE NO BAD PLANS. Am I depressed? Absolutely. Do I think about it? Yes. Do I have plans? No! Absolutely not. There is no need to worry. How about you love on me and not lock me up? Huh? How about that? Why give me fear and nightmares instead of showing me love and compassion? That’s what I need. That’s what any victim needs. No one needs to be fucking locked up against their will. That fucks you up beyond belief.
I’m fine. Am I back and forth in my thoughts? Yes. But I am the farthest I’ve been from doing something in over a year. Over a year! My thoughts really are steering away from that. Maybe that’s not apparent in my writing because I write when I’m most depressed. And yes, I’m most certainly depressed and alone and struggling. No doubt. But I can promise everyone who reads here that I won’t do a thing. Honest…I promise. I have had urges to cut- but that’s it. Nothing beyond that.
I still feel that no matter what I say here, I can still get taken away against my will. I have so much terror from that- I’m not sure I can ever get beyond it. I do know that I have no idea where I will move to when my lease is up, but wherever I go- not a soul will know my new address. I won’t even forward mail. Fuck that. If that’s what I have to do to make myself feel safe again, then I’ll do it.
I doubt I’ll feel safe again though. That fear is always there. Every cop I see, my heart stops. Every time I see flashing lights or hear a siren, my heart stops. And I live across the street from a fire station. This happens all day and all night. I told myself I’d get used to it. Well…it’s been 4 months and my stomach shoots straight up into my throat every time I hear those sirens.
I don’t want to have to live with this fear. This fear that causes nightmares because I wrote a blog and mentioned my thoughts. That’s not right. I had enough fear I was dealing with before. Now, it overrides and overwhelms my life. I used to feel part of the blue brotherhood. Not any more. I’m scared of them now. I stay away. I don’t belong anymore. I wish I could hang with everyone and reminisce about Zack. But I can’t. I don’t belong anymore. And with feeling so isolated and alone before my hospitalization, I surely didn’t need something else to make me feel even more fear and more isolation. Fuck that.