Insane In The Brain

Seriously, guys, there is something wrong with my brain.  That’s all I can figure.

I dreamed about being raped last night.  This was a standard feature in my nightmares when I was about 19-25, but I haven’t had one in several years.  Until last night.

Now, let’s be clear, I have never actually been raped.  For which I am grateful.  There has been sexual violence in my past, but not in a long time (since I was 13 or so), and *never* to the point of rape.  So where my brain comes up with this?  I have no clue.

At least this time I didn’t dream the actual rape itself.  That only happens… maybe half the time I have these?  Something like that.  I knew he was coming for me, and that he was going to rape me, and I was trying to escape on horseback.  But the horse was exhausted, it had just been in an endurance race, and the only way to get away was up this steep mountain path and it couldn’t run at all or anything.  He had a fresh horse, overtook us, jumped on me to drag us both off the horses – and then it skipped ahead.  I was in some kind of lodge, and there were people around, but nobody I knew.  Someone had called the police and I was waiting for them, huddled in a corner of a couch.  I desperately wanted someone to come give me a hug, but everyone was staying away – like I was somehow contagious or something.  Which felt horrible in and of itself.  I was like, dude, I need someone to reassure ME, and here I am having to reassure YOU that you can’t “catch” having been raped.  Not worth my energy, I’m just going to huddle here on the couch and cry and cry.

You know what was even more fun?  The part where the dream started repeating itself.  Yep, variations on a theme – at different times, I’d be able to get further away before he caught me, sometimes he caught up and my horse would kick his, or my horse would put on a speed burst, once we found a hidden path and I was *sure* I’d be able to get away *this* time – but it didn’t matter.  Nothing mattered.  No matter what changed, I still wound up getting raped.  And each time, I *knew*, from the start, that it wouldn’t matter and I’d get raped.  Must have replayed the scenario 4 of 5 times.  And each time, there was no comfort for me afterwards, either.  Once or twice there would be someone I knew coming along with the police, but usually one of my “medium” friends – someone I quite like, but am not quite to the level of “wanting them to hold me after I’ve been raped” in the relationship.  Once it was one of my closest friends – but then I suddenly realized that something had happened (car trouble? something) and she wasn’t going to be able to get there.

Needless to say, dreams like this don’t exactly make for a *restful* night.  They tend to leave me feeling freaked out and vulnerable for a few days after the fact.

When I was working at the studio tonight, I wound up being there later than usual – because I was talking to one of the moms, I have nobody to blame but myself, lol.  But we had a really interesting talk.  Anyway, it’s *not* a great neighborhood.  As I was starting to mop the back studio – which is like a fishbowl, it’s just windows all along both walls, and one set of windows doesn’t even have blinds – I saw someone pull up in front of the studio.  I was instantly suspicious, but I figured that it was probably either the teacher or the mom who had closed up a little while ago, having forgotten something.  Yep, it was the teacher, who is also a friend of mine – she’d forgotten her iPad, lol.  As she was leaving again, we noticed a man rummaging through the dumpster.  She got pretty worried about me being there alone.  She decided to drive around and go out the back way, which would take her by him.  I noticed (through the millions of windows) that she was going VERY slowly – and then she looped around and pulled up on the front side again, right by the door.  So I went to see what she had to say, and she was telling me that he’d gotten into a truck parked behind the studio.  I’ve been seeing this truck a lot of late, always late (after the studio is closed) – been wondering if it’s someone who’s homeless.  Jessie hadn’t known about this, and she was definitely concerned.  As we were talking, he got in the truck and drove away – which made us both feel a *lot* better.

Given this stupid dream, the creepy guy was exponentially creepier.  Even though I’m fully locked in when I’m there alone, there are SO many windows… in that studio, in the other studios, in the lobby, all of them floor-to-ceiling… if someone really did have any burning need to get in, it would be easy to break in.  Needless to say, with rape on the brain, this is not a comforting thought.  I was glad he’d left.  I bet that he saw Jessie going so slowly and obviously following him, got nervous thinking that we thought he was up to no good, and went somewhere else.  He hadn’t come back by the time I left (which was pretty soon thereafter).

My brain, it is fired.  I have no clue why it does this to me.  My usual nightmares are bad enough, but these dreams?  Are just Not Okay.  Seriously, what is wrong with my brain?  WHERE does this crap come from?

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