I used to have bad dreams in my first marriage. Dreams that involved my husband at the time that caused me to wake up angry.
Fuming, in fact.
The plot of the dreams was always tenuous, the storyline threads slipping from my mind as soon as I woke.
But the anger remained for hours until it would dissipate.
I used to warn my husband on those mornings, explaining that if he felt any sort of a chill or irritability from me that is was simply residue from my nocturnal hallucinations.
But they weren’t really hallucinations, were they? In fact, it seems as though the truth only came out when I was safely asleep. The lies safely shielded me when I was awake.
Looking back, those dreams were my training wheels; slowly acclimating me to the reality. Trying on the idea of my husband being a wolf in sheep’s clothing in small, measured doses.
And dreams were one of the tools I used to learn to trust again. It’s been five years now with my new husband, and not one rage-inducing dream yet.
And if one does happen to cross my path one night, you better believe I won’t simply brush it off as just a bad dream. At least not until I make sure it isn’t real.
Did any of you experience suggestions of the truth in your dreams before in came to you in the harshness of the day?