Okay, after reading this entry, some people may want to drop me from their buddy lists. I understand. But, with that being said, I assure you that I'm really not a psychopath. Or a sociopath. Or even psychotic. Maybe a little schizophrenic but that's a whole other entry. So here goes.
Betty mentioned something about secrets. Actually, she does this neat-o question of the day thing and her question was: Share something about yourself that I might not know or ask something about me you don't know.
Well I started to leave her a comment and then I deleted it because I thought it might make a good entry. I don't hide much on here. I'm an open book. A lot of people say, "Just because you read my diary doesn't mean you know me!" But I can't say that because I don't really have anything to hide. If I have hidden something, it was either unintentional or it's probably in one of my many other journals. Which are all linked to around here somewhere. Not a big secret keeper - I just don't see the point.
So anyway, back to my entry (in case you're new - or you just haven't figured it out yet - I'm a big fan of tangents). Right, ahem.
When I was younger... And when I say "younger" I mean from about age 9 until about age 18 or 19, I used to have very vivid nightmares. (To clarify: I still have frequent nightmares, they're just different now.) These nightmares were usually about murder. Spefically, me killing people. It was never a faceless person. It was always someone I knew and 99 times out of a 100 someone I cared about.
For instance, once I dreamt that I murdered my brother. It's one of the ones I had that was recurring and I can still remember it in great detail. It turns my stomach just thinking about it. I dream in color, by the way. And I can even remember the smell from the dream. I'll spare you the details. But I'd wake up and I'd be shaking, crying and sweaty. I'd think the wetness was blood but it never was - THANK GOD! So when I'd wake up I'd go check on him. Yes, actually open his bedroom door and check to make sure he was okay.
I know, you're thinking - "Gee Jenn was one fucked up kid." Hey, I'm not going to lie to you - I was. Hell, maybe I am.
I never told ANYONE. And I mean, I never ever told anyone. Not my mother, not my best friend, not my husband, not a counselor. I'm not an expert. I don't know what the dreams mean exactly. All I can say is that I have lost a lot of people I loved in my life. And I usually felt responsible. Since the dreams started around age 9 I'm guessing they were triggered by my father's death (which I've always blamed myself for and please don't ask). But anyway.
So that's my big secret. In my nightmares I'm a killer. And I kill the people I love. Okay, but I should say "was" because I don't have those dreams anymore. Now I have different, worse in a way, ones where other people kill the people I love. Or they die in freak accidents. Or I don't know. I have a lot of nightmares.
If it makes you feel better, none of them have ever been about any of you. :) I'm not an evil person, I swear. And never, in my waking thoughts at least, have I ever entertained the idea of murdering someone. Not really. ;)
I'll probably delete this tomorrow. Eep.
11:28 pm - 17 October 2005
Recent entries:
long december - 30 December 2010
more proof that monkey really is my kid - 16 December 2010
to add or not to add - 10 December 2010
new entries - 06 December 2010
what makes me a bad mother - 17 November 2010
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