I woke up in a cold sweat, and sat up in the bed. It had happened again. I had the same dream again. I hated that dream because it kept me afraid, for most of the day after I had dreamt it. They started when I was thirteen and after the last beating I had age 12. (Fight or flight post).
My dream did not always start the same way but, it always ended the same. In the dream, I would wake up in a funeral procession or at a graveyard. Each time I had this dream it would be my mummys funeral.
I would be crying hysterically, either beside her coffin or at the graveside. I would notice that everyone was mean to me. I was always alone. The worst part of the dream was her church sisters were always even more mean to me. They taunted me and kept pointing at me with disgust. In my dream they would say.
“You crying now, it’s too late”. And each time my response would be the same.
” I am not crying because she is dead. Shouting I would say. ” I AM CRYING BECAUSE SHE NEVER LOVED ME”. I noticed I would always wake up at the same point. quite anxious and uncomfortable. Over the years the dreams would always reoccur. I guess mummy must have tried to blame me, to her church sisters, after all she had always said I was bad.
I could also recall, the nightmares that followed, my mummy was in every nightmare, just standing there looking at me. Some would think I watched too many horror stories. However, this was never the case. In any case watching TV was a pastime that I was not able to enjoy. The dreams, and nightmares continued for the next 20 years…..