I Dreamt of My Nightmare

I dreamt of my rapist for the first time since it happened ten years ago.

If you’ve read my previous article, then you know I was seven when it happened. A child that didn’t even know the concept of sex, let alone sexual assault.

Maybe that’s why I never had nightmares. I didn’t know what had happened, and when I finally figured it out I had been making excuses not to think about it.

Since telling my parents at the beginning of December, a lot of emotions rose for them and for me. I thought I had been doing well with handling it. Then the nightmares started.

In the first, I was at home with my family. I had decided to take a shower, but when I got out and looked in the mirror, I saw him. My rapist was staring back at me through the glass. I screamed and immediately went to my parents who didn’t believe me when I told them about it. I went back to the bathroom and he was still there in the reflection. I remember the drop in my stomach when I saw him, like it was real. I woke up feeling terrified, like I had seen a ghost.

I had that same dream again the next night.

They were starting to get to me. I did my best not to think about them so that the nightmares would go away. It only half worked. My next nightmare was different.

In this one I was being chased by a group of men. I was running through the streets of a city when they finally cornered me and put me in ropes. They took me back to wherever they came from, then assigned one man to watch over me. This man put a gun to my head and raped me. He used his hands all over my body and put his mouth in my most personal areas. One part I remember vividly was when he forced me to give him a blow job. It felt so real that I can remember what his penis felt like in my mouth. Then he entered inside me, but the only thing I could feel was the metal weapon against my temple.

I felt disgusted with myself the next morning. I wanted to puke and forget the dream entirely but it’s stuck there in my mind. I took the longest shower of my life, but I couldn’t wash away what I had felt.

That nightmare is what broke me. I couldn’t look myself in the eye and I haven’t been able to let my boyfriend touch me since.

I told him about the dreams, he was kind and understanding like always, but I can see it hurts him. For these past few weeks he’s taken up resident in the same part of my thoughts as the rapist. He hates it.

I can’t understand why I’m just now having these dreams when I thought I was done with it all. I have felt good, the 100 pound secret was lifted off my shoulders. So why is the trauma still affecting me like this? The dreams came out of nowhere.

My therapist has been gone on vacation for over a month, when usually I see her every week. I hope that when I have the chance to talk to her I can find away to stop the nightmares before I go insane.

Sometimes I can already feel myself slipping away. I feel different. I don’t think it’s in a good way.

Usually I try to say something encouraging at the end of these articles to inspire and help the people like me. But I’m not sure what to say anymore.