/2024-09-17/brain_stuck_past.md
I've been living in this city for seven years. And yet, every time I sleep, I'm back at the same place. I'm back into my hometown. I'm back into my high school's town. Every time.
I fall asleep, and I'm back worrying about high school people bullying me, harassing me. Homework that needs to be done. Sometimes it's much more weird, but it's all happening in the same place.
Sometimes, elements from the present slip in. The trams from my city are appearing in my tiny hometown. Recently, in the hallways of my high school, a girl had a trans colored bracelet. Some present things are getting integrated into my dreams now. Like the fact that I'm a trans girl, it's finally starting to make its way in. But at the end of the day, I'm still there.
It's been seven years since I've moved away. My social circles have completely changed. Everything in my life has changed. Yet, when I'm asleep, I'm back there. I never dream about my current friends. I never dream about my partner. I never dream about any of what is currently happening. I am back there, every time.
I either dream of my father, or I dream of high school. Sometimes both. It's one or the other. And it's never good. My father being violent, gaslighting me or me being violent to him. Being stuck in my high school, seeing it as a prison, often comes up.
I moved away seven years ago, but it feels like a part of me died there and left my brain perpetually stuck there.
I've been thinking about this more and more lately. I've been noticing lately that my brain is seemingly permanently stuck not in the past, but in some very specific parts of my past. Like, during some panic attacks, I've sometimes been having flashback to stuff my father did to me.
I went through a very troubling time in my relationship lately. I went through a militant burnout. I went through a professional burnout. I went through a coming out. I went through a lot of stuff. Some that nearly fucking broke me. And yet... I'm dreaming about the stresses of high school and my father. Why? Why am I still there? And how do I get out of this place?
Yeah... maybe I should bring that up to my therapist.