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RE: Letter To A Dead Boy: A True Story

in #journal7 years ago

You write: "Night visions uncover their terror blankets and hold my eyes wide open, hold me hostage to my peaceful sleep and force down a fear-laden drink, one that induces horror sights, grotesqueries of all imaginable shapes and sizes. They are shown to me over and over. There's no bed in which the visions find rest. They loom on the horizon of terror and spring up when their fancy strikes."

This is so meaningful and powerful to me. Due to my CPTSD, I experience this frequently. Less now that before, but there was a point where I was afraid my mind would take over and I would do some of those things I saw in my grotesque visions. That I would hurt myself or someone I love, or worse, mutilate or kill myself or them. I had a lot of these when feeling rage or feelings of punishment, because of the narcissist who abused me using blood and gore from films to get me into a specific state.

You describe those thoughts and visions perfectly and poetically. I still get them sometimes when I experience rage and feelings of punishment attached to an emotional flashback, but they no longer have the hold on me that they once had.

The nightmares were not suppressed, they were not put to bed, but they were replaced by dreams of visions of cuteness and love. Love is more powerful than fear, even if they are both the most primal and primary emotions. Love is replacing fear and is healing all the places where fear crept in.