Night Terrors.

It has been over seven months since I last blogged about dreaming of my father. That is because it just hasn’t happened.

Until now.

Last night marks my first night terror in a long while. A conversation with a colleague on our way home from work sparked my memory of my nightmare as we discussed funerals. At 4.am this morning I awoke suddenly. I was short of breath, sweating and disorientated. What had brought on the beginnings of a panic attack? It didn’t take long to recollect.

I had dreamt of the abuser. It was so vivid, so real, that I was completely shaken up. The worst thing was how frightening the actual night terror was. I had dreamt that I began receiving phone calls; phone calls from my father. My dead father. When answering these calls, he would speak to me, from the dead. In whatever hell he is in, he was speaking to me. I could hear his voice so clearly. The roughness of it punctured through the earpiece and entered my soul. In the dream I was as terrified as when I woke up. He sensed my fear, reiterating that I would never truly escape him, that he would forever have control of me and that I was a puppet to him, one that would be his source of entertainment (a position I had in reality).

The nightmare ended abruptly and I awoke with a jolt. I looked around the room, aware that I was on edge, searching through the shadows on the walls, looking for a figure. Like a child, the light went on. I needed reassurance.

I do hope that this will not be a new pattern and that he will not haunt my dreams. I just want closure from him. The everlasting stress that continues even after he has gone, needs to be put to rest. Just like him. I cannot cope with the games my family are still playing, even now. It is only adding to my already fragile state.

Moving on, is a simple thing, what it leaves behind is hard.
Dave Mustaine

It only takes a year.

It only takes a year

just twelve months,

for you to change your mind.

With no reason I can find

It only takes that long.

It only takes that long,

just twelve months,

for your loyalty to dissipate.

For you to demonstrate,

that our friendship has gone.

Our friendship has now gone,

in just twelve months,

you are like a stranger to me.

It is what you wanted to be

in this year that has gone by.

In this year that has gone by,

in just twelve short months,

Our lives move side by side.

Yet you have just denied

me from even talking to you.

I cannot even talk to you,

these past twelve months.

Your distance is surprising,

suspicions are arising,

it’s only been one year.

It’s only been one year

just twelve little months,

and I feel like it’s been a waste,

that time can’t be erased.

That you have left me with regret.

Why leave me with regret?

In these last twelve months?

Why hurt me so easily?

Or treat me so sleazily?

You had choices at the start.

You had a choice at the start,

before these past twelve months,

if I wasn’t as you had hoped,

I think I would have coped,

without you in my life.