It isn’t me…

We have some seed. Let me clip your dirty wings. Let me take a ride. Don’t cut yourself. I want some help to please myself. I’ve got some rope. You have been told.

I had an appointment with my doctor yesterday. My brain doctor. She changed my meds. Well, not so much change them as doubled one of them. She had me take an extra one last night. Between that and sleeping meds, I fell asleep, and pretty early, too. I think I may have been out by 10:30. Then I woke up at 12:30. I fell back asleep shortly after and woke up at 3:30 half screaming. For whatever reason, when I wake up from my nightmares, sometimes I yowl or yelp, but rarely  ever scream unless it’s a night terror and I have no idea where or what or who I am.

Polly wants a cracker. I think I should get off her first. I think she wants some water to put out the blowtorch.

I’ve had nightmares all my life. My doctors never believed me. It’s gotten worse over the last few years because of various experiences. Tonight’s or maybe it’s  considered last night, I don’t know. Either way, it was bad; it was really bad. I’ve had them pretty nasty for the last two weeks or so, but this is one that I haven’t had yet at all and it was absolutely terrifying and devastating.

Polly wants a cracker. Maybe she would like some food. She asked me to untie her. A chase would be nice for a few.

A lot of my nightmares are memories. Some of them are warped some of them or not. There’s one memory that I only have bits and pieces of. It’s not one that I talk about much. But it’s one I dream about a lot. Not dreams, nightmares. I had that nightmare tonight but there were some changes. The time, the place, the words, the actions, they’re all the same. The difference was the voice. The difference was the face. The difference was the body. The difference was the hands. The difference was the teeth. The difference was the fists. And the difference was the sneer.  It came from something different something deeper, something darker, and something more terrifying. This came from HIM. This came with the knowledge that I was no longer safe.

Polly says her back hurts. And she’s just as bored as me. She caught me off my guard, it amazes me, the will of instinct.

I had known before that I wasn’t safe. But then I thought I’d found safety. Even with everything that happened, I was stupid enough to think I was still safe. But I think I just realized that I’m not. That if I was in trouble or something, I don’t have anything safe anymore. And now, with that realization,  I’m more terrified than I was then.  And it’s more important than ever to hide that from everyone.  I just feel like I need to vomit. And my hand  is definitely broken.


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