For the past two nights I have barely slept mostly due to being on holiday and out of my usual sleep pattern. Hourly sleeps have resulted in vibrant, hourly nightmares.
On Saturday night, I dreamt that my father had murdered three men. I had witnessed it but he didn’t know. All I remember was blood and lots of it. He used a knife. A knife appeared in both dreams.
Then, he escaped, he went on the run. I tried to tell someone in the vicinity but my voice could not be heard and my body could not be seen, I was invisible.
I chased him.
I ran and ran and ran.
But he was out of my reach. He got away with it and when I returned I was no longer invisible. People began to question me, doubt me.
Last night I had a very broken sleep. In the hour before I awoke I had an extremely vivid dream. This time my mother was also involved. Every time that I have dreamt about my mother, she too has been a malicious figure. My dreams do not portray her in a kind way or a truthful way. She becomes the most evil of characters. My father was there too, of course. Nightmares aren’t complete without him.
I dreamt that my mother and father abducted me, if that’s possible as an adult. It felt like kidnap. My mother kept me locked up in an underground warehouse. I was to keep it looking perfect and treat them both with the utmost respect. David joined me at one point but I think I made him leave first. The whole time I spent plotting my escape. My father and mother were in it together. They had the communication in my dream that they lacked in reality.
The dream then cut to a moment in my father’s bedroom. All I can remember is threatening to leave him, to get out. He admitted he wanted control over me, an admission I never received in real life. The next thing I knew, I was being brandished with two large butcher knives. He was waving them furiously in front of my face and I had no way of protecting myself. Immediately, I covered my face, shielding it with my arms. The knife slashed violently across them. The same sight of blood appeared and the deep, red lines on my arms were magnified.
I did escape them.
These dreams are clearly a representation of my life, the fear, hurt and terror that both my parents subjected me to at some point. I’m surprised my mother is always portrayed so badly in my dreams but at least I have the relief to know that she is not like that at all in reality; certainly not any more. My father however, was no different. His intentions were the same- to make my life a living hell.
I love this quote, I interpret it in another way. I’m no artist but my dreams and nightmare are just that. They are make believe, they are echoes of life in the most surreal of ways. Reality is the most important thing and now is the time to make it right.