Cathartic Dreams

Let’s talk about my ex.

There isn’t much to say about him. We dated for six years. I thought I loved him. He stopped being responsive or listening. I broke up with him. I took a step back and finally realized how much he controlled me, and how all my friends who met him thought he treated me horrible. I’ve gone back and read our chats and saw the manipulation that screwed with my anxiety.

His mother once told me, if he ever hit me, to leave him immediately. I always thought it was a strange warning. He wasn’t a violent person. Why would she need to warn me about this?

And what if it wasn’t physical abuse?

If you had talked to me a year ago, or even six months ago, I would have had a lot to say about him. A very long rant. Heck, I created a reddit account just to post in the Depression/Anxiety groups without him knowing it was me. It ate away at me. I hated myself for being so blind, I hated him for everything he did to me, and was probably blaming me for. I hated that he made me doubt myself at work- he actually told my best friend at my art school graduation, that he didn’t think I could keep an industry job because of my anxiety.

THANKS, SWEETIE. F*CK YOU TOO.

But for the most part, I’ve recovered. I’ve stopped worrying that he’s going to somehow show up again and destroy my life. I’m growing, finally.

I’m happy.

So…what about now? Why am I writing this post?

I want to share a dream I had recently. The best dream I’ve ever had (ok, fine, maybe tied with the one where I was Elphaba in Wicked and could really hit those high notes.)

Sometimes, he creeps back.

Some habits are hard to break. He did so much damage to me, emotionally. I’ve been afraid to be myself for so long. Sometimes I fall back on the bad habits that I had when with him. If someone calls me out on that, I tend to get angry. I say I’m over it, but there will always be some small part of me that just wants to tell him how horrible he was.

He was on my mind that weekend. I had visited home, and he sent my mother a snapchat (creepy, right? Mom won’t block him, to keep tabs on him). I don’t remember what it was, as it was pretty pointless. But still, he was there for a moment; his ghost following me all the way back to Canada and creeping into my dreams.

It started with a party that I was hosting. It was themed, and in this cute farmhouse. A lot of people showed up.

That includes my ex.

Of course, we didn’t let him in. (Even in my dreams, my friends stood by my side.) He was very upset by this, said some awful things, and left.

The party continued, and it was going great. Then, we started to run out of food and plates, so I had to run back to my house to get them. The problem with that was I had to walk past my ex’es house. In reality, I have always lived a minimum of eight hours from my ex. Dreams don’t care.

Dreams also love to disregard gravity. As I tried to walk back to my house, my legs were weighed down. Walking became like wading through- well, to sound cliche, molasses or quicksand, take your pick. I ended up being forced to spend extra time passing my exes house.

All of his relatives were outside on the porch. He’s always been proud (and I’ve always been jealous) of his incredibly large family. I once spent a Thanksgiving with him; his house was filled to the brim with family-and that was just one parent’s side. In my dream, there were maybe 40 people sitting on his front porch, sprawled across the front yard in lawn chairs. They were loud. 40 people yelling insults makes quite a racket. They would see me passing and start telling me how horrible I was. How I destroyed him and he did nothing wrong. How it’s because of him I even have a job, he showed me the school I attended. I should be GRATEFUL because without him, I would still be a part-time theme park employee with ten roommates at a time.

I’m not a therapist, but I’m pretty sure that was some manifestation of my anxiety; these strangers on a porch shouting these fears of mine at me. These are the things I was always afraid he would say, back before I learned not to hate myself.

It took me two more trips past his house to realize I could go around the block the other way. The party continued. The relatives couldn’t bother me. And all was well.

The “next day” is where my dream finally gets to the good part.

I woke up early to clean up from the party, and some of my friends stopped by to talk to me. Specifically, Han Solo, Princess Leia, and Chewbacca. Let me take a moment to fangirl, THANK YOU BRAIN for that gift. For a few minutes I thought I was friends with Star Wars characters.

ANYWAY. They all looked very grim. They came over to tell me that you-know-who was on his way to talk to me. No, not Voldemort. I think I would have preferred Voldemort, honestly. Chewbacca gave me a (very hairy) consolation hug.

I don’t know why I let him in to talk to me. He was asking if I was really, truly ready to cut him out of my life. (In reality: We haven’t spoken in a year). After ALL he’s done for me, all the help he’s given me, am I really ready to part ways with him?

I managed to avoid feeling guilty and told him to get lost. He was very snippy about the subject, saying how I’d regret it. That sneering tone he used to get when he was pissed. I managed to brush him off, and stand my ground. I had been done with him since I left him. That’s all. He left.

For a moment, it was over. And then I realized, he was still winning. He was walking away, thinking I was missing out on the great experience of dating him. He was walking away, thinking he was right.

And I am so tired of him thinking he’s right.

So against my better judgement, I ran after him. Something I would probably not do in real life. I ran out of the house and caught him as he was pulling out of the driveway. I grabbed his window and stopped him from leaving.

And boy did I let him have it.

I couldn’t tell you half of the things I said. I know there was a LOT of swearing, which he pointed out a few times (a neighbor child rode by on his bike and stopped to stare at me). I didn’t stop. I said (yelled) all the things that have been pent up for the past year. That he was the most narcissistic person I’d ever met. He tried so hard to turn me into the person he wanted me to be. That he brushed off his own lack of empathy by blaming my anxiety (and making my anxiety worse). I didn’t owe him anything. He didn’t make my demo reel or take my classes. I did the work. He didn’t. He left me in a foreign city, unable to pay rent because he promised to move in with me (don’t get me started on how stupid I was).

Let me tell you, it felt amazing. I’ve been holding all of this inside. I’ve worked hard to not be affected by this. But it still was nice to finally say all the things I wish I had said when I left him. The things that I was too nice to say.

He say there with his angry face on. I’ve always hated that face, stone cold and unfeeling. He used to do that when he didn’t get his way, shut down and wear that face. His “dark moods”, as I’d refer to them. I knew my words were affecting him and he hated it.

He started to drive away, and I screamed after him “I KNOW WHAT YOU SAID TO [best friend] THE DAY I GRADUATED. WELL, LOOK AT ME NOW!”

He was gone. I felt great. I went back inside and my crush showed up, and we did some serious kissing.

Best. Dream. Ever.

I’ve thought about it a lot lately. My not-Star Wars best friend recently showed me an email she sent to her ex-fiancee; her clearing her conscience and telling him how much her hurt her. What would I actually say to him?

You know, I don’t think I have anything more to say. As satisfying as it would be to yell at him, tell him how much he hurt me, you can’t really make an impact on a person like that. It will be my fault for getting a job elsewhere (after over a year of applying), or for making friends, or being clingy. Of course it’s my fault, I ended it. And if that’s what he thinks, I accept this. I mean…was our relationship negative? There were some small parts that were okay. He did help sometimes. But mostly, he hurt me. I don’t “owe him” for my success now. I worked really hard to get here. And as for being angry, I’m more angry at myself for ignoring all of the red flags. I knew better. I’ve learned and I’ve moved on.

I think I’d tell him to go away, at least…but after over a year, that’s all I have left.