Dream of Being Raped June 11, 2009
This is a hard dream to remember and rewrite. I look back on some of these dreams and now feel for certain they were the easiest and least threatening way for me to remember pivotal events of my life. Somehow, even though it is horrible to see these things happen to someone else (like watching a movie), it is removed, placed at a distance outside myself as if it wasn’t real or couldn’t happen.
But the feelings attached to the memory of the act are too strong to brush aside in that way. The reactions of what my body remembers is not a lie, and however difficult it is I realize the truth of it. It took me some time to calm myself down when I awakened. My mouth was so dry and my heart was racing from the fear and the pain I felt. There is much about the dream I cannot remember, I’m sure because the ending was so dramatic.
It felt like I was at a battle scene although I don’t know who was fighting or why. Again it was a foreign country, the climate warm and the style of buildings very different from those in Canada. We were outside what looked like a castle, but it was someone’s home, very big and elaborate.
There was one man in particular I recall, he seemed to be in charge of what was happening. I said some things to him that really did not make much sense, having to do with him being such a cruel man and that his outward beauty was such a waste, a facade for the evil it housed.
I was being led away somewhere and was then forced to watch something about to happen. A young girl with us was being held. She was so lovely with long curly hair, and skin that was light brown. They were holding her and someone was stripping off her clothes. She was screaming for them to stop, struggling to get away. None of us could help her and I was crying for her. I called her name which was Maryam.
The leader came up behind her and she began to really panic, now knowing what was about to happen. I was also panicking, wanting to do something to save her, but I could not. He came up close behind her, putting his arms around her saying, “Now, just be calm, this will all be over in just a few minutes.” I’m not sure if it was his voice, his arms around her, or a combination of the two, but she suddenly became very still and quiet. Then I found myself looking at her vagina, and I became confused realizing I was looking at myself, the hair belonged to me not her. I could feel I was bleeding and this made me panic, screaming, NO! I woke myself with a scream and was fighting under the sheets, waking Patrick as well. I could not understand what had just happened, but I was terribly frightened by it.
As I write this now I am wondering if Maryam was indeed there and we both were subjected to the same fate. This somehow makes it easier for me to accept this situation, believing I was not the only one facing this cruelty, acknowledging after all these years the experience and the pain was mine alone to bear. The mind is amazing in the way it protects, shielding us from harm. So much time has passed since the actual act, but also since the dream reminding me of it. Still I feel the emotion and pain as if it happened only yesterday. Our mind allows us to hide the truth, but the memories remain despite our best efforts to lock them away.
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