How deep our dreams grow their roots
I've been away & separated from my A for almost a year now. I've grown in strength and independence. I've worked my recovery to where, most days, if not "serenity," at least I feel a calm and abiding joy. Our kids are calmer, stronger, less skittish and less scared to take up room in the universe.
I've met a new man with whom I have a great relationship without any power struggles. Oh, and without any alcohol or drugs.
I'm really in a good place. (Most days; you know how that goes...)
Lately, I've been having dreams.
You see, up till this points, I have just been having nightmares about AXH.
But now, I'm having dreams, like:
AXH, the kids and I are on vacation. We're all huddled around the table looking at a map of the small mediterrenean town where we're staying, wondering if the kids can handle the hike down to the medieval castle by the water? We're happy. I wake up with this "Oh thank GOD" flood of tears of relief because he has quit drinking and we have the loving family life that I always wanted us to have.
In reality, he's still drinking. He's still emotionally and verbally abusive.
But it struck me this morning that those dreams I had when I married him 20 years ago really have some deep roots. In my dreams, I'm fixing everything so that it's OK. And I didn't realize how much I need to grieve that dream. That's OK. I've been busy living.