I just woke up from a nightmare that my father raped me at knife-point and cut up my face. As brutal as he could be, he never used weapons on me.
But the dream was so vivid, so real. I woke up so full of hatred for him that I was shaking with it. I'm still shaking, and I'm not sure if I'm cold or just emotional or what.
I thought I was past the hatred.
I guess not.
I wish I could wake up somebody and talk without anybody touching me. I don't think I can handle being touched right now, but I need someone to talk to.
I'm confused and scared and everything I see reminds me of my father's cruelties. My own hands look like his to me right now. I'm staring at the screen to avoid watching my hands type.
If anybody's online at this unreal hour, I'm arquenniel on Yahoo! Messenger and desertrosedark on AIM.