Im transitioning into that process… Crying for myself for a change. I just got out of therapy where I did more sand tray work. I told Keri, “I’m burnt out from all this work. I need to do something with less words” – so I made an image of this whole process.

To the left of the tray is a landmass of beauty with snow covered trees, a foundation of geodes and various precious stones, a figure of a woman who’s outstretched to the universe while sitting cross legged, a pedestal that contained the wheel you use to steer a ship but also points lights of hope in all different directions, a wizard manifesting all that is good, and a nest with eggs that will hatch but only with the nurture of new coping skills and healing strategies I need to nestle into growth. In the front of the land is a blue stone that reads “faith”, representing the faith I need to have both in myself and in this process, as opposed to the toxic faith of the SDA’s.

To the right of the tray was a landmass covered in thorns around the edge that you would see on Jesus’s head, with vipers in the sand and skulls and cages scattered about, and in the middle is me worshiping fear and death; polar opposite of me outstretched to the universe. Ironically I threw in Jesus outstretched as though he were on the cross, but the cross is missing, representing the religious abuse I endured, and the death it brings.

In the middle was the ocean filled with seaserpents that represents painful information breaking from unconscious to the conscious, as well as ducks that are resilient and know how to bob and weave in the water… I love ducks. In the middle of the water was a ship in a bottle, and the bottle represented both healthy boundaries to surround me, as well as insecurities that prevent me from getting into the ship, with the ship being what I need to navigate this whole thing. There’s a sword in a stone with a jeweled hilt sticking up from the ocean, a source of power that I’m both attracted too but don’t know how to unleash. There’s a compas but it’s useless at this time, and two candles that glow in the night that provide a general sense of where I should be heading, but I’m not sure.

It was obvious to me how cut and dry, black and white this whole thing was, but I felt something was missing… But I didn’t know what it was; it had to be something grey because life is not black and white, that’s the dysfunctional mentality in me showing. Suddenly I felt sad, and I was able to tap into that energy… That sadness… And sadness is strange in that it’s neither good or bad – it’s grey like a sky… A sad sky which threatens between rain and tears.

Ironic that I’ve been wanting to pick up a book at the library on how to grieve but no one has died, but then my therapist made it clear that perhaps someone has died, something within me… I should really trust that feeling more and grab that book on grieving.

I’m sad; tremendously sad, but yet I still have such a hard time crying which makes me even more sad… Strange that can feel sad for myself without it being a sense of pitty, but mourning. I hate this process, but I know I’m on the right path… I just don’t hate it as much as I did only a few short weeks ago… I’m exhausted.

My therapist is close to begging me at this point to stop punishing myself by pushing so hard to rush though my healing process, but it’s all I know; perhaps if I punish myself hard enough for my mistakes I’ll learn my lesson before someone else exposes it and cause me shame, but it’s all I know. She wants me to know I don’t have to do this alone, but it’s all I know. I’ve always been so alone, and I’m working so hard through this in the hopes that I can finally have healthy relationships with people so I won’t be so alone. Even with her sitting in front of me she can’t do the work for me, and professional boundaries are maintained that keep me from feeling that support. Again I’m alone, and don’t even have a group therapy support system.

I know this isn’t a dream that I have while I sleep but it fits to have it here in my dream blog… The dysfunctional dreams of the past meet some kind of hopeful dream for the future… And I’m awake for the miserable ride. It’s the only time my emotional landscape has been a desert.


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