Waking from Dreams

I forget, sometimes, that often when there is some sort of forward momentum in one part of my life, there is a tendency for backlash in others.

I remembered that reality rather harshly this morning, waking from a couple of dreams.

Often I know that a dream isn't reality, even while I'm having it.  That I'm experiencing something that is symbolic or spiritual or just bad pizza. 

This morning's wasn't like that.  It took me a minute or two after waking to remember that what I'd seen and experienced was a dream.

It's a dream that reflected a fear that's embarrassing to me in a way.

I haven't talked much about the fall out from the last car accident I had in January.

The fact that on the rare occasions these days that I get behind the wheel of a car, panic comes.  That part didn't surprise me, really.  It happened after the previous accidents too.  And in each case, it's usually dissipated simply by time.  By getting behind the wheel over and over again, and praying, and driving carefully, and doing it through the panic. 

And I don't and can't have a car for a while because of the insurance issues, so I didn't expect it to dissipate quickly.

I haven't told many people that even being a passenger in a car similar to mine is hard.  That riding in the front seat of a smaller, low to the ground vehicle is also nerve wracking.

There are a couple of people who drive, and I'm able to relax.  But not many.  If they happen to drive larger vehicles - SUVs or trucks, that helps a little.

This morning I relived my last accident (by far the worst one.)  I relived it in my dreams, twice, though the details were wrong.  The crash, the airbag, the panic over what to do next, who to call.  The sinking sense of dread that now the insurance will be a problem forever, because I'd had even more accidents.

It wasn't the fear that I'd expected to surface.  It wasn't even like I was expecting fear to surface, per say, though, upon reflection, given other things in my life, it didn't surprise me.

It felt like, maybe even was, attack.

And it wasn't an easy way to start the day.

Nearly two hours later, I'm approaching okay.  In half an hour a friend will pick me up, and we're going for breakfast, and I'll ride in her car, and pray a little, and push away the fear for the reality of enjoying time with my friend.

But if you're the praying type, I'd appreciate your prayers right now.  As I walk through some stuff that aches and it stirs all the other fears, I'd appreciate your prayers.  For courage, and for protection, because there was a very real element of oppression, a sense upon waking that this was attack - against the progress I'm aiming for, against the freedom and healing I'm fighting for these days.  I'd appreciate your prayers as I shake off the remains of the dreams, or of whatever else comes.  Because pushing for healing is important, and I'm pretty sure I can't do it alone.