I had this most incredible dream. It should have freaked me out — and pissed me off — but I have come to grips with it.

In my dream I woke up and I thought that I was awake. It was so vivid! I leaned out of bed and saw that the room was different. I was hallucinating I thought! What else could explain it. I was not scared though. It was interesting. The dresser over in the corner — in the wrong place. There was a sign on it, which I unfortunately did not read. There was a crib in the middle of the room. And toys. Lots or colorful toys. There were three children inthe room playing with the toys. They were happy. I wanted to talk to the dark-haired boy with glasses — I did not know him — but I’m not sure why I did not. I do not remember the faces of the other two children, a boy and a girl. I felt that there was a fourth person in the room and tried to look at him.

I was picked up than, lifted and moved side. Someone leaned against me, warm soft skin against my back. He whispered in my ear. It was my father, whispering some insincere reassurance, although I do not remember what he said. I felt then that warm soft feeling on my buttocks.

And my father proceded to rape me.

When I woke up then I did not feel too overwhelmed, or scared or angry. I am not sure that this was an actual memory. But it was relevatory — was that what I am terrified of? That that did happen to me? May happen again? Was that all?

If it happened there is nothing I can do about it. It was not my fault. I must move on with my life.

My terror of people has lessened. The dark, looming imagery I used to get about people is all but gone.