The Blueprint for a Repressed Mind

Welcome to my nightmare, Socket Seekers.

Today we are going to learn about nightmares, and I will be using mine from last night as the primary case study.

In this drug-influenced "dream," I was actually happy. I know you didn't know that was an emotion I am capable of, but apparently, it is only possible in a dream. I was out living as my true self. I was walking along some body of water—let's call it a lake, because we can—and I was on a pier in the most appropriate footwear for a leisurely stroll a woman can wear: high heels. You know, when you think of walking along the water, you immediately think of high heels.

This is where it gets weird: I am extremely happy on this stroll. Yep, just out being my true self and enjoying the world. I think the pharmacist might have slipped up and stuck a different pill in my prescription, and it affected this dream.

So, after my amazingly carefree day, I returned to some massive structure—I assume a hotel or someplace similar. When I went inside the packed lobby, my family was right there. They didn't appear to notice me until my sister pointed me out in a deliberate act to embarrass me, as always. My mother's face filled with rage, much like it did when you ate the cake icing she always kept in the cabinet—even though she never actually made cakes.

It is time for a flashback on my mother and I's relationship. She knew I had these trans thoughts when I was younger. I had converted a pair of sweatpants into leggings like all the ’80s girls wore. When I returned from art school, I was fully planning to tell her I was trans. She must have sensed I wanted to tell her, because she made up a story about a trans person she encountered at her job, detailing how terrible they looked and how their family must be so embarrassed. So, in a deep act of defiance, I didn't say anything and went back to living a lie. But hey, I got to never be in a relationship and think about suicide for thirty years, but at least I didn't embarrass the family.

Sorry about the time travel; imagine Wayne from Wayne's World doing their time-travel noise for me here.

So, when they notice me in the lobby, I immediately start running. In this dream, thankfully, I am not the size of a compact car. I get completely lost and end up at an elevator where a large group of people is standing around. My high heels are gone; I assume even my subconscious knows you can't run in heels. However, the outline of them is still permanently branded onto my feet so people know exactly what I had been wearing. I felt trapped, and everyone was staring at me.

I remember the intense feeling of shame from my family and the deep desire for them to simply unsee me. I just knew in my soul that things would never be the same.

So that was a fun night. It is haunting me, and it probably will for some time.

Useful Recap

• Don't trust dreams.
• Don't give into the self-loathing.
• Don't run in high heels.
• Serious note: If you are actively thinking about harming yourself, please seek help immediately.