My dreams are filled with fears.
Fears of being alone. Fears of being broken for the final time. Fears of not being enough no matter how hard I try; no matter what I do.
And in these dreams, I do everything I can to prevent what feels like the inevitable.
And in these dreams, all I do is receive confirmation of my multiple fears. Confirmation that my fears are real. Confirmation that reality is always going to be waiting for me.
Yet these dreams aren’t nightmares. They don’t have the same heart-stopping fear. They don’t cause me to wake up gasping for air like a person saved from drowning. They don’t cause me to wake up covered in a cold sweat. They don’t cause me to wake up in a panic; anxiety gripping my heart.
Instead I wake up calm.
I wake up with the faint taste of self-sabotage.