Warning: Description of sexual assault, physical violence involved.
I need help sometimes. I am well aware of that.
I am also aware of my fear of creatures with more than 4 legs. This includes crabs, centipedes, spiders and other more-than-four-legged bugs. Octopuses seem to be the only exception. I am even afraid of mosquitos, if I ever seen one flying in any certain room, I can spend hours hunting down that flying bloodsucker. But my tolerance on lizards and frogs is uncanny, and if you show me to a lion I would try to pet it and boop it on the nose. I am the guy who pet stray dogs and cry about them because they have dermatitis and they lick it so it spreads. I could not help them and they lick my legs.
All dogs like me, it is my superpower.
I also fear dreams, and that makes me value lucidity more than others. People known me for a bit or follow me on social media would know my crazy sleeping schedule. After melatonin pills, Oasis white noise, 90 dollars Tibetan monk breathing control machine and aroma pillow spray, I can say I tried everything but baseball bats. Still, my body automatically wakes up when I hit 6 hours and you can only find me waking up at 10 o’clock when I pulled an all-nighter. Every time I give my phone number to others I would specifically address that the phone is on 24/7 and feel free to text me at 3 AM.
For me, staying awake is the best shield against memories that haunt me. I learned the lesson the hard way. I have this reoccurring dream where I was stuck in a dystopia world, body tied to a post, and a gigantic electric saw falls on my head. Every time I would try to escape and I would always end up on that post waiting for the saw to drop. I wake up with cold sweat soaking through my t-shirt only to face a dark, empty room.
I also dream about the day I got rapped. Every detail feels so real: sunlight outside the bathroom window, tepid air and white porcelain tiles. I could see his hands reaching for my neck and then the room turned blurry. I was turned to my back and my nose was pushed against the white, dirty porcelain tiles with urine on it. I can hear the wind blowing on a tree outside the window, sunlight went through that tree and left spots on the clouded window glass, there is a sound of zipper unzipping. Then I wake up, after the faceless man penetrated me. I am sure that demon is still walking on Earth. He strangled a 13 years old boy in a public bathroom and fucked him until he bleeds. I only know that he had a scorpion tattoo on his right hand. He gave me my worst nightmare and I woke up at midnight again and again only to find out it was not a dream. Because people have good dreams where they fly in the sky or obtain things they desire, or they got hunted down by their worst fear. Then they open their eyes and it all fades aways.
In my case, it is reality that I dream about. Nothing has changed since I wake up. I am still a victim. I am still afraid of public bathrooms. So I went to the psychologists and they gave these dreams proper names: Depression, PTSD and anxiety.
I don’t believe in God. But I always pray to Him, pray to him to let me see the face of my raper, so I can fear him and fear him only. But God did not show me his appearance, so he remains faceless and nameless. So my fear remains on every soul walking this Earth.
That public bathroom is right across the street from my home, about 300 feet away. I walk past it everyday.
So next time you see me wide awake at 2AM, please do not be alarmed.