Photo by Sam Carter on Unsplash
November 29, 2021
The dream I'm about to write is a bit difficult to describe, not because of any otherworldly imagery but because of the nature of the material itself. TRIGGER WARNING; If you are uncomfortable with themes of sexual abuse, I would recommend skipping this post. Please remember that this was a dream; this is not a personal account in any way. For the sake of context, let me tell you a bit about my work life. Bear with me; it's relevant. My first job was at a church doing janitorial and other facility care type work; my second and current job is as a stocker at Walmart.
This dream takes place after work at Walmart. I left the store frustrated because I couldn't figure out where to store a shipment of apples that we had received, something truly plentiful at our store in the waking world. I digress; feeling overwhelmed, I left, and by this, I mean that the scene suddenly changed. No longer was I at Walmart, but I was at my old job, which is ironically within walking distance of the store. My brother and I were following a campus pastor through the main sanctuary, he was excited to have us back, and we were glad to be available to serve as we once did.
The place seemed bigger somehow and could use a few extra hands in keeping it in tip-top shape. As we passed by a few rows of chairs, the pastor stepped back to leave us to our work, and it was here that I was pleasantly surprised by a figure sitting nearby. She was a friendly face from church that looked out for me, and my brother, as big as this church was, seeing her made it feel small in the friendliest way. The hug we exchanged was one that I've missed, but that's life.
Meanwhile, in the doorway, the pastor stopped and watched us. He turned back around and approached us with a group of men tailing him, speaking to the three of us as if he had something more to say without really saying anything at all. Even more strange was his wanting to end this brief moment with a hug. I could sense his jealousy as he eyed the women, but I didn't understand it. I don't know how we managed to get out of it, but we did. Despite our dexterity, an unshakeable sense of unease began to weigh on me quite heavily. It told me this was not something I should ignore, but I decided to write the incident off and get to work. There was too much work to be stressing about my discomfort, or so I thought.
The dream pushes forward into the next day, and it seems that my family and I came together as Sunday service would begin. Of course, my brother and I would still be working, but that's how things were. The discomfort from the other day was still present, but I ignored it. This awkward pastor wanted to see me and had picked a somewhat quiet spot to talk before he would head to the stage to preach. I was supposed to meet him there alone before I headed to work; As you could probably imagine, my discomfort was growing as the distance between this man and me was shrinking.
But how could I refuse? Campus pastors almost seem to function like team managers, each over a different group of volunteers. However, when working as part of the facilities team, any pastor can request your aid. After all, we knew the location of almost anything needed, and messes could occur anywhere that we might not be immediately aware of without their assistance. I would soon learn that this was not why he called me.
Ya, know what's difficult about describing this next part is that other people were aware of this spot and nobody came to warn me. People simply cleared out at my approach. A voice speaks to me, God, I imagine. He said to me, "This is how it begins. When you get there, you're going to be trapped, and he will force you to perform oral sex for him. Things go downhill from here." In a moment, I felt keenly in tune with my present self and future self; this would go on for years and grow worse over time before I would manage to find any freedom. The voice was not a warning but a promise.
I was shocked; what I felt was valid, I should have listened sooner, and now, here I was, waiting for him to arrive because I had already made it to the meeting spot. Service would be starting soon, so I'm sure he was nearly here. However, I had no intention of sticking around and waiting for him to arrive. With that prophecy floating around in my head, I knew that this was the only chance I had to escape my fate, and I needed to move fast.
In moments his entourage was on the scene. They were gathering at the exits hoping to block me in. They came to make sure the pastor got what he came for, and that disturbs me immensely. Lucky for me, they were too late; I had slipped out of the room just before they arrived. It is so disgusting to see how vigorously they began to search for me. This man didn't want to hit the stage without his blowjob. My hiding place wasn't a good one, but it was enough. A corner was between them and me, nothing else. I thank God they didn't find me.
Suddenly, the men headed back towards the stage, time was up, and service was about to begin. As I exited the backstage room, wherein I found myself, several coordinators for the service spotted me; they looked at me with disgust and annoyance as they went about coordinating the service. Thankfully it was too late for them to do anything more, and the dream ends here.
I hate dreams like this. I would rather wake up with haunting blood-curdling screams echoing through my head, which is not uncommon for me than to wake up from dreams like this. I usually get a few dreams like this a year, and afterward, I typically shove people away for a while and begin to withdraw. Touch can go from being something comforting to something entirely disgusting and horrifying.
But unlike other times, I don't feel as overwhelmed as usual. I thank God for my counselor, my family, and friends that I could talk with about this. These are friends who could love me even as I told them that I was afraid of them, that I do push them away sometimes, and that the fear that plagues me might last a while. I'm grateful for their patience with me, and the gentle love they show me. As much as I hate these kinds of dreams, I feel like there is hope here. I got away, and I was safe this time. I know the impact of this dream will sit with me in the waking world for a while, but I'm not feeling so overwhelmed. I'm thankful for that too.
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