I am now halfway through my final exams. I’ve finished all three final practical exams and I have three final written exams left. Those are all on Thursday and will be back-to-back for what is essentially a four hour test.
I believe all of my practicals went well. One was great. One was good. And one was tricky. I felt good about my actual execution of skills, but the decision-making part was sloppier than I’d hope for. Unfortunately, we won’t be getting any of our grades until after the written exams. (Maybe that’s for the better, so we don’t all freak out if we did poorly on a practical exam?)
My anxiety has been ridiculous lately (despite remaining on the higher dose of Klonopin while I search for a new shrink yet again). I felt a lot of the pressure shift off my shoulders once I finished today’s exam, but I still feel tremendous tension and intensity around preparing for the written portion. And then there’s only six days off before I start the next two classes.
I think part of the problem is sleep (or rather, the lack thereof). I’ve really been struggling to get good quality sleep. I have been able to fall asleep somewhat quickly, but I’ve been having tons of shitty nightmares.
I had another nightmare involving the therapist last night. It took place in my early teen years. I was at some campus of sorts. A hospital complex, maybe? My family members had appointments at other clinics and I knew I wanted to go to therapy, so I somehow convinced my parents to drop my off at the building with the therapist so I could see her.
I was young. She was herself. But she somehow didn’t know anything about my abuse. I told her I wanted to tell her something important.
“My parents are having sex.”
“Okay. That’s something adults do sometimes. Does that bother you?”
“Yes. I hate it.”
“What about it bothers you?”
“That they’re having sex….”
“Do you think they shouldn’t be? Is something about them having sex upsetting to you?”
“Do you want to talk more about that.”
“They’re having sex…with me.”
Then the dream gets crazy and difficult to remember. I know she jumped into action and the session ended up going over time, so my entire fucking family (including peripheral cousins and friends of family) came into her office building to get me. They were super hyped up and agitated that they’d been waiting in the car for me for 30 minutes or so. They we absolutely enraged that I had the audacity to not be standing outside at the exact moment they wanted me to be there.
I looked at the therapist with desperation. “Please save me”, I thought. She tried to engage with my parents in some manner and they both got very hostile. My mother got up in her face and started screaming that she had no right to interfere with family business.
I started inching myself closer to the therapist and sorta hid myself behind her. I was quietly begging her to not make me go back home with them.
“I can try to get another place for you to stay, but I don’t have somewhere available right now.”
“Can’t I stay here?! Please don’t make me go back there!”
“I’m so sorry, no, you can’t. There’s nothing I can do. You can’t stay here.”
I was devastated. I took a deep breath and stepped in line with my family, ready to march back to hell. I looked back at the therapist and she looked so lost and helpless. She kept saying she was sorry, but I felt so enraged and betrayed. I’d told her my secret. I’d told her what they were doing to me and she did nothing. NOTHING. She just sent me back to them.
I woke up in a panic – sweating and heart racing. The emotion felt so close to me and so dangerous. It was awful.
I wonder what this dream means??