Reality is a nightmare we wake up to…

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I woke up from a dream and while I desperately need to go back to sleep, if this trail of thought is not caught, it will get lost by morning.

Atleast in dreams we can be the person we wish we had the guts to be in real life.

Atleast in dreams our relationships can be perfect the way they are supposed to be or the way they used to be (but really, were they ever?).

In one of the sessions I told the therapist that some things seem more complicated in my life compared to others. She replied that that is not true. It is complicated for everyone. I guess some people live on the surface and ignore the complications while others whitewash them and present a happy front to the world.

My reaction is to clam up and never talk about it. And then new people start asking questions and are surprised that part of my life exists. With people who have known me for 10+ years it is more of a checking in activity. They are just checking the status without expecting it to transform magically into perfection.

But it is so much harder with new people. Like, how much farther into history do I have to delve to get to the source. Was the source my childhood or much later? Where is the beginning of when things really started to go downhill? Where is that point where I took the road which took me into conflict instead of compromise? It is much easier to evade the topic than try and explain. Even I haven’t been able to see the complete picture despite distancing myself.

A hint – this is in reference to my family and if I get more specific, there will be a phone call from home asking me to delete this blog (#trustory). Because there are people keeping tabs on it (thank you, atleast someone reads it).

My weeks start with counting the number of days it has been since family has called and ending with relief that there is no phone call. Because there is never good news at the other end. Just conflict I may be part of or a bystander to it.

I chose a path that led to less complications which equals a path of selfishness. There is a price I continue to pay for it.

Except in my dreams. When everything can be perfect.

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