I Had A Terrible Dream.

I had a terrible dream.

I let a man have me on the curb outside a store in broad daylight. There were people around. I was trying to get off while not getting much enjoyment. He left me on the ground after he finished like a piece of garbage, but waved goodbye.

The guilt sunk in. How was I going to tell my woman about this?

In some ways, I knew that feeling. At times when I was unfaithful to him and I uncompartmentalized for a second I would feel uncomfortable, a tightness in my gut, something with a tinge of guilt but mostly just shame.

This was that, with far more guilt than I could take. My woman is so supportive, so good to me; I only want for her to feel happy and loved always. And here I was slipping back into the worst parts of me and disgracing us both.

Unlike when I was with him and continually taking the easy way out, I had made the decision within the dream to come clean to her and accept the consequences. Every part of me felt sick.

Despite the fantastical details (like somehow dodging an indecency charge), I had to reassure myself as I awoke that I didn't actually do such a horrible thing. It felt too much like the old me.

I feel the urge to confess something, so I'm going to tell her about the dream.

My subconscious is an asshole.

The difference between me and fully functional adults is that when they make a mistake, they just move on. When I make a mistake, the world crashes around me, the air escapes my lungs and i simultaneously want to hide under my blankets and scream like a banshee out into the void.

I feel unlovable, incapable and inhuman. I want to claw my skin off and jam a stick through the part of my brain that remembers.

My woman has to spend an hour telling me I am still worthy of love and talks me down from running away.

My brain can't yet process that mistakes no longer equal humiliation and pain. And since I'm not getting the punishment on the outside my brain does it to me on the inside.

I need to quit my job.

Some girls have all the luck.

How ironic it is,

 They wished for my dismay 

And laid on me a curse 

But all I got was peace

My woman is worried about me. Apparently I've slipped down into another hole. That's unusual for the summer months. But here we are.

I have to wonder where I would be if he hadn't wrecked havoc on me physically and mentally. I wonder how much of my brain scramble was mine to begin with

About this time three years ago our his basement flooded which led to us gutting and reframing the basement.

The day it happened, my parents' basement, with whome I was living, also flooded. I had to call into work to help them keep the water at bay.

Then he called and he snapped his fingers and I left my parents and went running over to help him. Only one other person stopped by during the whole process - his dad to drop off a shop vac. No one else came, no one else helped.

When I arrived I walked down the stairs. I could tell he was upset, and I was already anxious but I wanted to try to comfort him.

I opened my mouth to say hello, but didn't get the word out of my mouth before he had punched me in the chest so hard that it knocked me back against the stairs and the wind out of me. He also told me that if I did one thing to upset him, he'd give me a few to the head.

I spent the next 16 hours removing water from his basement along with carpet, flooring, heavy furniture and drywall.

I don't think I spoke.