My Worst Nightmare

TW! All the trigger warnings. Seriously.

I've been thinking about this question for a really long time.

What is my worst Nightmare?

Cause I've been through a lot.

Ostracized, exorcised, cast out, cat called, shunned, avoided, publicly humiliated.

None of that was a nightmare.

I've been beaten, bullied, abused, pushed around, gaslit, manipulated into thinking people that hated me actually loved me.

I've been drugged, raped, coerced into sex on a consistent basis, objectified, broken down into a pliable little toy.

I suffered, but it wasn't my worst nightmare.

I tried to die. Over and over again, abusers arms pulling me back, taking the rope from my hands, taking the knife away.

I tried to die again, and then I asked to be killed, and then I ran away.

I got shoved into a padded cell, injected and drugged against my will, dehumanized.

Nightmarish, but still not my worst nightmare.

No, the real nightmare came after all that. When I was convinced everything that happened to me was my fault.

I did it to myself. I went looking for trouble and I found it.

I did the drugs, so I broke my own mind.

But then I started to wake up. Bit by bit. Tiny, quiet acts of rebellion in the silence of my room. Listening to music, sometimes talking to strangers, but mainly just being alone. Lost in fantasy worlds, playing far too many videogames. Occasionally hanging out with the forest, but consistently alone.

I started to wonder,

• "What if that one thing wasn't my fault?"
• "What if other people make choices that have an impact on me? That have had impacts on me."
• "What if systematic oppression isn't a fantasy?"
• "What if medical gaslighting is a thing? What if my stomach really hurts?"
• "What if it's not all in my head?"
• "What if some of it is justified dread?"

Then came the day someone shoved a tube down my throat and I could see evidence. For the first time.

Hundreds of cuts on the inner flesh of my stomach. Blood. Visible blood. Visible evidence of a pain I had spent four and a half years thinking was all in my head.

That was so far from nightmarish, that was euphoric.

Delirious from the anesthesia, the nurses didn't understand why I kept weeping, and smiling, and laughing, like I had just been given the best news in the world.

'Cause that's what it was. It's not all in my head! So what else isn't in my head?

And that's when things got weird.

I... started to remember. 'Cause throughout the abuse and the gaslighting and the sexual assault there was me.

Watching, listening, reading, absorbing information, pattern recognition, narcissism abuse coercive control domestic violence adverse childhood experiences forbidden words, bad words, words that the therapist didn't like me bringing up, because those were the wrong answers. I wasn't supposed to think about why I was in pain, I was just supposed to stop being in pain, and all of the work was on my shoulders. It was going to stay on my shoulders, so why think about why? Just focus on the next right thing.

But I still wanted to know why, so I rebelled.

In secret.

I did my homework. I gave the right answers. I genuinely did internalize the lessons from therapy. I took steps to improve my life.

But, I also started to watch. To listen. To read.

And then, as I remembered and absorbed new information, I started to realize.

I realized things about my childhood that had set me up for failure. I realized... bad choices I had made, and the better choices I wanted to make in the future, and I started to talk.

I talked... to my break up support group... Until... one man broke my trust, objectified me against my will, then I cut all contact with the entire support group. But then... I kept... talking. In secret, to just a few select people, one on one, then the streams started to get a bit more honest, a bit more talkative.

I took chances. I took risks. I expressed what I genuinely thought inside and people liked it.

So I kept going, I kept getting bolder. I kept getting more expressive. I gave compliments. I ex-panded my reach, and I got burned. I kept getting burned. People tried to take advantage. People hated. People really didn't like me, and then I met -----.

----- liked me. But she was cautious. Careful, she didn't open up easily, I had to be very, very careful. Tender. Gentle. And, yet, I did not mask. It felt wrong to mask. It felt wrong to lie. So I just didn't.

I decided that here, in this one space with a beautiful woman that was probably around my age and halfway across the world, I could maybe... be myself without the avatar. So we talked. We talked for hours. We shared ideas. I dug up parts of myself I usually only express alone, and then I started to express those parts when we weren't calling.

I showed myself to my friends. A few friends. Select friends. The ones closest to me. And they liked it. They validated and affirmed and started talking to me in ways that they hadn't. I knew the feelings were there. I knew that they loved me, but they weren't really people who said it. Not easily, they were like -----. Tender. Gentle. Slowly. And they... they said such nice things. Glimmers I think I'll keep for the rest of my life, and then... me and -----, not ----- now, -----, not -----, -----.

We kept talking.

I fell in love.

Platonically.

Romantic feelings were there, but I got those out of the way. Pushed them out. Push them out. Keep them out, and... the platonic feelings got deeper, I became frustrated with them. There were urges to run, to hide, to cut off the relationship. But I wouldn't dare abandon her.

Because she's so much like me, and I never deserved to be alone, so neither did she, so I resolved to stay, but to stay in a healthy way, as healthy as I knew how with the broken examples in front of me, oh and that's when I started realizing that maybe my parents hadn't changed as much as they liked to say they had,

This is my worst nightmare

and so we kept talking and I kept writing and I kept showing her some of the writing, not all of it because that wouldn't be healthy, and... I decided that if this was going to work long term, if I was going to be able to keep this beautiful connection, then I would have to redirect the energy that she brought out in me; to give, to sacrifice, to devote; into myself. For she is a fantastic lover and if I am ever going to be worthy of her, and if not her, a person like her, 'cause god do I want her in my life, then I am going to treat myself the way that she would want me to treat myself, and she probably wants me to love me. The way that she would. The way that she cannot. The way that she... maybe one day could. But even if she could not. Even if I'm not the one for her, not her choice... I might find someone of a similar vibe. Is there such a thing as a third mind like mine?

So here we are. I am awake.

I know what is at stake: My future. My happiness. My joy. My love. My peace.

Joy and peace.

Freedom, safety, and connection. I want all these things.

I am in Love with me. And I am not afraid. Because I have so much to lose.

A limited amount of money to my name.

A house that holds no traces of me in it's foundation, in it's bones, not really a home.

But I have me.

My body. My mind. My soul. Some semblance of health. The irreplaceable wealth of my friends. And... I want to protect me. I want to love and cherish me. And I will love and cherish me.

So.

Here we go.

It's going to be hard, but when has it not?

I'm going to go very far, but there is joy where I'm at now.

I am going to go to sleep.

Hold on to this secret I wish to keep.