I Have To Be Stronger

Last week I went through the motions of legal name change. I have been dreaming about this day for so long, and when the time finally came, it was almost anti-climactic. Whats worse, the stress over the last several days of navigating the endless maze of bullshit required to change name/gender markers across every facet of my existence has left me all but running for the exit.

Given all of these stressors, it was no surprise that I awoke terrified from another nightmare. Except this time, it was different. And by that, I mean that my dreams took a new direction, one that I had never experience before.

It started out simple enough... I was cleaning up the house, something I often do. Even though I hate housework, I love the feeling of putting things right and of getting the place clean. Somehow, things were just off, something was amiss. Everything had a gritty feel in the dream, as if I was in a time/place that time had passed by.

I was carrying some items from my bedroom to the basement when I noticed that the side door was wide open. That's odd, as its still very much winter even as April comes to a close. Terror suddenly descended on me, and as I went to close the door, sensing imminent danger, this women, naked and covered in frost, with soulless eyes came in through the door. I pushed her out with all of my might, and instead of locking the door, I made the mistake of looking out. She quickly turned around and pushed me back inside. I tried to scream, and with every last ounce of energy I could muster, managed a weak shout of  "Get out of here!".

At that moment I was waking up, and I was lying in bed in a cold sweat, shivering under my blanket. I was so terrified that I couldn't move or even breathe for what seemed like an eternity. My left hand was on my chest between my breasts, which have been hurting from the HRT.

I remember feeling horrible, as if some portal had been opened to something that I desperately wanted to seal shut. It was then that I realized that I'd seen this play out before... this happens right before I discover some shattered piece of my psyche that is trying to re-emerge and to come to the surface. Fuck, another terrifying thing to learn about myself.

What makes this dream different is that I can still remember every detail and nuance. I could give a sketch artist a detailed description from which she could render an accurate and clear picture of someone who's identity I cannot recall, much less what the meaning of the dream is suppose to convey.

I will never be whole...