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My nightmare came back – I faced it this time and it had an awful ending

Ok so my nightmare came back- the same nightmare I have had over 30 years now. The scenery is always the same, there is something very evil and dangerous after me and my only way of protecting myself is to lock a door between me and the evil thing who wants to hurt and kill me – and the door is always impossible to lock. I do all the right things, I lock the door perfectly but it is always unlocked anyway. So scary.

This time I was in my grandmother’s old house, I was alone with my two little babies and it was really dark because it was in the middle of the night.

An evil man was out there trying to get to me and my babies. I did everything I could to quickly lock the door but of course it remained unlocked no matter how hard I tried to lock it. The man came seconds after I tried locking the door and I just held on to the door handle as hard as I could to keep the man from coming in but it was impossible because he was so strong and I was too weak. He forcefully opened the door immediately and I knew we were in deadly danger. My only thought was that I have to protect my little babies, no matter what.

This is where the dream turned worse because it usually ends there. Now I was forced outside in the dark night and the evil man started beating me up. He used his fists and he kicked me as hard as he could, I protected myself as strongly as I could but more evil men came to help him. It felt like such a losing battle but I never gave up, I kept protecting myself and my babies. Finally I managed to call the police, who didn’t even want to know where I was, they just said they would get there. The fight continued for what felt like an hour and suddenly the men changed their tactic when they realized the police might get there soon. They started cutting me with a knife and hurt themselves really badly with their own knife too just to make it look like I was the bad guy, like I was the one attacking them. It felt so sick!

Then the evil twist and evil ending came – an evil devil magician turned up. His face was hideous and his eyes were glowing green with pure evil. I don’t know why but he just turned up and smiled an evil smile at me as he saw how much the other men hit me, I cried out to him “can you help me with these men?” And I regretted asking it the second I said it. He smiled and said that he was happy I asked for his help. Then he touched the men and they turned into beautiful, perfect, good people – the evil man who had hit me the most and had been so filled with blood and wounds that he had inflicted himself with, he turned into a beautiful blond princess-looking good person. Immaculate. And the other men turned into perfect looking good-guys. Immaculate. Then the evil devil magician waved his magic at me and everything changed. I was completely naked, dirty, black hair, drunk and was sitting on a bed inside the house completely passed out. My babies were still outside, alone. Then the police came.

I was aware of everything that had happened all of a sudden, from a broader perspective like I had been watching a movie. And suddenly I was looking at the whole scenery like a movie, I was no longer the woman in the movie. I was me, watching this movie with my boyfriend and I remember saying how much I hated this movie, that the ending was so evil, so unfair and that Steven King must have directed this movie.

Then I woke up.

So weird. I guess the best part was that in the end it turned out to be just a movie.

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Being nice and polite is not always right – a painful childhood memory

This is something I have never written about before, and only a few people know about this. When I was around 7 years old I loved taking my teddy bear (actually a panda) out for a walk in my red toy-stroller. My parents allowed me to walk around the block alone, which only took 5-10 minutes. One cold but sunny day when I was out doing this, all alone, a foreign man approached me. I guess he was around 45-50 years old, dark hair and tall. It all happened so quickly. He gestured toward me that he wanted me to come to him, and I wanted to be polite so I obeyed. When I was close to him everything about him changed, he quickly placed his hands on either side of my face and forced my face close to his and kissed me. I still remember his tongue pressing into my mouth and the strong minty flavour of his mouth. I panicked, I was trapped and I didn’t know what to do. No one was around, no one saw us. His car was just a few meters away and he grabbed my hand saing “come” and gently tried to pull me to his car. Somehow I managed to get my hand back, shook my head no and began walking very quickly in the direction of my home. He called after me, as I turned my head to look at him, he gave me a blow kiss in the air and he still gestured that he wanted me to come back to him. I soon began running and tears were streaming down my face. I told my mother what happened the minute I got home and she rushed out to our car and went to find this man. She never did. She went to the police but they never found him either.

In this situation I tried to be nice and polite. I stopped when he approached me and wanted to talk to me. I didn’t scream, kick or bite – I was too chocked and afraid to do anything.

🌹🌹🌹 🌹🌹🌹

The event that happened tonight with the old man who has begun stalking me and who approached me in an uncomfortable way two days ago triggered this memory to return.

Not once did I write about this in my book or on my blog. I think I have only told this to two or three people, and it was probably 10 years ago.

There are millions of memories in my past, just like this one, that I never speak of. I tell people about some of the other things that have happened to me, like that my father was an alcoholic, that I was sexually abused at the age of 6 by three older boys, that I was bullied in school, had reading/writing difficulties, had anorexia, was raped by two boys when I was 17, ran away from home, lived in an abusive relationship for almost two years, my mother died when I was 18, my father died a few years after that and much more.

I kept all these things a secret within me the first 20-something years of my life. Never told anyone what was happening to me. Now that I have begun sharing my story a little (I am 34 years old now) I realize there are so many more pieces in this puzzle, so many more events that I have kept hidden for so long.

It actually feels refreshing to get it out in the open and finally letting it go. I will no longer carry these heavy secrets within my heart, I will let them go and finally be free. ❤ Stay tuned for more memories that I will let go of – which I may choose to share, or not. In either case I will no longer keep them hidden within me, I will open my heart and set them free.

I will no longer sacrify my own wellbeing in order to be kind, polite and well-behaved. I refuse to fit in, I refuse to be ashamed, I refuse to feel guilty, I refuse to blame. Instead I embrace myself, trust myself, value myself, honor myself, support myself and love myself in the process of letting these memories go.

Thank you dear rascal for triggering this memory in me, thank you for inspiring me to once and for all stop being so bloody nice and start valuing and trusting my instinct. 🌹

Your past does not have to affect your future

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