The Recurrance of my Incubus

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I have always had amazingly vivid detailed dreams. Add to that my recall ability that can be quite the curse. While many dreams afford me the opportunity to solve problem and process challenges while I sleep, awaking with a solution that was difficult to visualize during the light of day; many problems in grad school were solved this way. This is also a curse in so much as I can awake from a drew so vivid I think it takes time for the reality of what had occurred to be washed away with the dawn. I have written about my incubus more then once; I wonder if these visits shall ever cease.

I often have dreams of confrontation, where I have lost my voice or need to make a choice between what is right and my safety; all too easy to psychoanalyze. Working through some recent challenges I may be thinking of things that are causing more dreams but I tend to think this is a result of the season. I am a fervent believer in patterns, sometimes that is the only place truth lies. Although I no longer face these struggles and have not for some years, beginning in late April my life would get sucked into an unwanted spiral that would crash hard sometime between Veteran’s Day and Thanksgiving so it is quite possibly ingrained in my psyche, which scares me to my core.

Waking from sleep crippled with fear, feeling as if the dream was occurring and the participants are still there is so utterly frightening word can offer it no justice. Last week I awoke gasping for air and grasping to find the hands that had been gripped so tightly around my neck I was gasping for air yet there were no hands, the house was silent and my cats sat startled and confused watching from across the room. While not all my dreams are as violent nor are they as graphic they can be quite vivid. There are times all the faces in the room are unfamiliar but they are all know to me, as if parts in some rehearsed act  of terror and other times there are just these odd arguments, moments of confrontation that I am placed in a catch-22 and wake just before I decide in much distress.

Last week started a cycle of a new dream which I cannot figure out the reason for its occurrence. Typically I am in an office, maybe of a therapist, but it is clearly someone I am comfortable with who has some insight into who I am. As I am waiting for the answer to some question they respond that of course I can’t be loved and begin to point out all my faults. I have had this three of the past four nights and as I contemplate going to bed tonight I hope that it does not occur again. I am unsure how my saboteur had filtered into my dreams.  This is filtering into my day, riddling my thoughts with this doubt, making me realize that there is some truth in those words. I realize that I would be difficult to love for I am missing some of myself from this journey and no matter how much I try, I am a bit sharp around the edges making it difficult at best.

“Sometime you get shown the light in the strangest of places if you look at it right.” –Robert Hunter

 

 

 

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