• Dr T

Dreams, Nightmares & What Comes Through

Overthinking may be our way of trying to work out old trauma


Day 18 - July 26, 2021 – Note to self: Need to remember… Go with my gut!


Morning

I like my piece today, but too much thinking. I had dreams about sand drawings and couldn't quite remember them. The images were elusive as I woke. In the studio, I was thinking too hard to try to recapture what was so organic and beautiful in the dream.


The resulting piece is pretty, but took too much mental energy. Just need to be faithful that the impulse from the dream will come back around when it's ready.


Sometimes liminal thoughts and feelings take a while to burst into consciousness.


"Mind too Much" - 7.26.21

1971ish

Everything is dark - the sky, the earth - and army green. The world is collapsing around me, army tanks like clumps of rolled steel storming everywhere, taking over. I can only stand in the midst trembling in fear, small, helpless. Someone gives me a flower to make me feel better, but it’s just a gesture. Nothing changes. Armageddon.

That’s the nightmare I had regularly as a child.


 

Afternoon

I don't need to do anything, be anything, other than who I am. I only need to stay present, be here now, open and pour out thoughts, feelings - anything that comes is OK.


My body is cold again. Is it related to the dread of the dream? Armageddon?


I can feel the ultimate dread and horror of that dream, but not the feelings in relation to what happened on the bus. The dream is an emotional reflection of what I remember, either in my head or in my heart.


There is judgment in me; I should feel dread about what happened on the bus. I can't. I know that not feeling is OK, but it doesn't feel OK. It feels wrong


I should feel horrible about what happened on the bus, but I can't feel anything about that.


Maybe I can’t feel anything because I can only remember bits and pieces, not what happened.

I know leather seats, brown, and his thigh next to mine on the seat. I see his green army coat, dirty fingers, or maybe just tobacco stained. I smell smoke and feel his breath. That’s all.


I am so tired, my stomach hurts, tears are in my eyes, I don't want to go here. I want to walk away, do something, anything, other than process this. I am so tired, almost lost consciousness during the tapping session. Is that the tapping and the dread, or is that just because I literally am exhausted?


I don't know, but I have the same feeling right now. I could close my eyes and instantly be asleep, it's hard to be here but I know I am safe. This is just curiosity, not judgment. Whatever happened it wasn't my fault. I didn't do anything wrong.


I couldn't have. I was just a little girl, seven or eight years old. How could I have done something wrong? I was little, I was not in charge; I was the child. I need to rest a moment, without judgment or expectation, just a moment of rest…


 

Evening

I don't know exactly what happened today. After writing, I rested for 20 minutes or so, made lunch and ate, showered, then went out and bought my reward gym shoes. But the whole time I felt like I was underwater, or walking through sludge.


So, so tired. True, I was tired when I woke up, but I think something opened during the tapping.


In the opening, the Armageddon dream fused with the bus and whatever happened there. I also saw the person giving me the white flower in the dream; she was me. I was trying to give myself hope amidst what felt like Armageddon. The flower was like a torch, to light the way.


I am sad that whatever traumatized me caused me to separate my anguish from my body. Armageddon, the nightmare, has held all my emotions related to the trauma for the past 50 years. When I think of it I feel dread, stress, anxiety, fear, but when I think of the bus driver, the bus - I can't feel anything.


I never could, but it feels like the threads are starting to connect. Not that I remember anything new, but now I'm processing Armageddon as a memory of something traumatic that actually happened to me, not just as a scary nightmare.


As I gave myself a flower, was I reminding myself that it wasn’t the end? Was I telling myself it's just a dream? That there is life after Armageddon?

I feel sore, sad, scared, and lonely. Maybe I should tap, but I just want to sit with the sorrow. The answer to the pain is in the pain. I am not going to numb myself, but I'm also not going to make myself do anything tonight.


I will eat. I will keep drinking fluids, and let the tears fall, and feel my feelings, and write when something comes up. For now, I will just be.


 

Until tomorrow... For Your Consideration...


In what part of your life would you like to think less and feel more ?


 

Do you want to create your own 30-Day Project? Is it time to LEAP?

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