Trigger Warning: This edition contains stories of sexual assault and trauma. Please take care of yourself. (I wish we had a way of saying this that doesn’t include a gun reference, but here we are.)
WRITTEN IN BED ON JANUARY 7TH BUT I WASN’T READY TO SHARE UNTIL TODAY AND I’M STILL NOT, BUT HERE WE ARE:
Dream - dog show. All these dogs, Nya running away, Saxon and my dad didn’t see her run, they were helping someone else. Everyone was so excited about the dogs next door to my parents’ house they didn’t see Nya running away from me towards the freeway. Screaming. I was terrified. Losing them, them getting hurt, me being the only one keeping them safe, is a common dream theme. I don’t know if I am the child or the mother in this dream, or both. But the dog! Maybe this means we’ll get a dog.
The house in the dream was my neighbor’s house in Oakland - it used to be pink and a girl lived there with disabilities. I would tutor her on the sidewalk in the summers. I took it upon myself to help her. Her weird mom would come and go but her grandparents took care of her. They had sugary snacks and cereal and let me come into their house sometimes. It was dark. I was scared of this girl, but also intrigued, more curious than fearful. I wanted to help. And then something must have happened. With the mom or the grandma, someone must have said something to me that scared me. Or maybe not….memory is unreliable.
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