My Brain Needs to Catch Up to Reality

Raise your hand if you’ve ever experienced a mind movie. Okay, now raise your hand if you’ve ever experienced a using dream. Anyone raise your hand for both? Yeah, me too.

Our minds are amazing, aren’t they? We can work them out and retrain them like muscles, but really, they’re organs like our hearts. We feel like so many of our emotions are carried there.

Then, when we’re standing there admiring our brain’s awesomeness, just like that, it throws an echo of trauma our way.

Thanks, brain. Love ya. Bloop! (Any WWC fans out there?)

At least that’s what mine’s been doing to me the last few weeks.

Thanks, brain. Love ya. Bloop!

As you know, I’ve gone through withdrawals from cocaine. Twice. Because, well, relapse and all. And that second time, I had some fun, horrid using dreams.

They’d vary. Sometimes it was me actually using and waking up sweaty and feeling immense shame. It would take a few minutes for me to orient myself to the fact that it really was only a dream.

Other times, the dreams were about me almost using and waking up still feeling immense guilt for putting myself in that kind of situation. I could usually recover from those dreams a bit faster.

After disclosure, I had nightmares. These were carnival rides from hell. Definitely worse than my using dreams. I think it’s because they tapped into my betrayal trauma for fuel.

And those particular nightmares used the information I gathered from The List.

That was the name I dubbed the Excel spreadsheet I entered all the specifics of my ex’s affairs. Word of caution: not a great idea doing that. It gave my subconscious way too much intel.

It also added lots of unwanted flair to the mind movies I had throughout the day too. That was a lot of fun to go through, said no one ever.

Thanks, brain. Love ya. Bloop!

While those mind movies and cravings dreams weren’t the best experiences, I at least understood the why.

Quit using = my saying, “Hey, where’s my high?”

Betrayal of the highest order = “What the fuck just happened in my world?”

What I didn't expect were dreams of my ex feeling the same way.

Well, what I thought was the way. At first.

The first few dreams were the ones that you don’t quite remember. Just the stars of them. And it was definitely about him.

Each one, I woke up with a feeling of dread. A heaviness sat in my chest and my heart.

I wasn’t sad, angry, or remorseful. Just felt dread. Like walking into a dark alley with no lights on and knowing you can’t turn back.

The feeling was gone by the time I took my first sip of water, and my feet hit the floor.

As the days went on, I had more dreams. One stood out. I went back to him. My kids still loved me, but had made clear boundaries: “We won’t visit your home, but you can see us without him, anytime you want.”

I felt a lot of complex emotions that morning, and they were hard to shake. Throughout the day, I had mind movies. I haven’t had those in fifteen years.

It made me feel like the emotions I was feeling were wires.

Each wire popping and sparking.

Rationally, I knew it was a dream.

Just a dream, Laura.

You didn’t go back.

You don’t want to go back.

You felt no desire to go back.

And yet…your brain…put you back.

Why?

Not just that, but my brain popped and sparked throughout the day, reminding me of the emotions I felt when I was there.

Not the good ones.

The bad ones.

The ones after disclosure.

The ones right before I left.

A sizzle of uncertainty about my finances…no support had arrived yet.

A pop of where I could afford to live.

Another sizzle of how long the kids would let me stay.

Another pop of how can I be valuable to my kids?

My brain was not playing nice at the moment. It was ready to spiral. I could feel it in my body: heart racing, jaw clenching.

Thanks, brain. Love ya. Bloop!

I got up from working on my laptop. Work done for the day.

I went outside with the dogs. The air was cool, crisp. I’m not a fan of the fall, but even I could appreciate Mother Nature in that moment.

My brain was still on overdrive, so I needed something else.

I decided to write it out. I was going to try to schedule an appointment with my counselor, but she’s five hours away, not accepting new clients, and I haven’t seen her, ohhhh, in about a decade, so, yeah. Let me try something else first.

Journaling it was. Nothing fancy. More like rage-journaling. I wouldn’t even call it word vomiting. Just me typing a lot of unkind things.

It helped, but it wasn’t magic.

My daughter-in-law noticed I felt off. I told her how the dream affected me.

She did an exercise to me that I didn’t even think of trying. She played the script all the way to the end. She said, “Do you think we’d kick you out? Just like that? Put you on the street and make you homeless?”

I could see she was asking an honest question. But I could also see that she meant it. This wasn’t reassurance for reassurance’s sake.

It wasn’t just my brain that needed to catch up. It was me too.

I am in my safe space.

All I need to do is step back, take a look around, and accept it for what it truly is: home.

• I am safe

• I am home

• I am loved

• I am worthy

• I am valuable

• I am loved

I see these reminders all around me each and every day through the kindness of my son, daughter-in-law, granddaughter, daughter, co-workers, and community.

I also understand why these dreams are happening and will probably continue for the next few months. I’m working on my next book. It’s having me revisit some old wounds.

Old wounds → Old trauma → New nightmares

Thanks, brain, I really do love ya! Bloop!

Let’s Stay Connected

If this resonates with you, I’d really love to know. You can comment below or email me. You’re also invited to join other Bookenders on Reddit.

And if you’re looking for deeper exercises, I wrote Bookends of Recovery & Healing Workbook to help you heal from betrayal trauma and addiction by using creative exercises, action tools, and guided reflection.

Warmly,
Laura 🌻