And then I see a darkness

Had a dream last night that was mercifully short and it wasn't until later today that I had an inkling as to what it meant. In the dream, I was in a house with a group of people, somewhere between a get together and a party. I knew most of the people, though I can't recall who they were. The impression I got was that they were friends.

Everyone seemed to be having a good time, except for me and a woman I was with. I have no idea who she was, but the two of us were in a room with two scary individuals. They were our captors, had been for some time, it seemed. One of the men was about to drug the woman and, according to him, the only way for the drug, which was in pill form, to be effective, was to crush it in excrement and administer it orally.

He pulled out a bag of shit and told us it was his own. As revolting as the idea of watching this woman eat shit in order to be drugged was, I held her down as our captor went to work. I was clearly in the grips of Stockholm Syndrome.

I don't remember much of what, if anything, happened after that. Two things were clear: I had been a prisoner of these two men, who were part of a larger network of slave traders, and the people in the house were indifferent to my captivity.

Initially, I chalked the dream up to having read too much about the Franklin Scandal and The Finders, but I think, though that was surely part of it, there was more to it. Or maybe there wasn't more to it, but it did set my thoughts in a certain direction.

On my way home from work today, I was thinking about the dream and then my thoughts shifted to the "dark night of the soul" I had gone through a month or two ago. Though I don't think I'm out of the water yet, I feel I have more perspective and, consequently, hope.

I thought about how difficult it was going through it alone. It was rough not having a support network, something I thought I had in place. Initially, I thought this was due solely to people not giving a shit about my problems. Sadly, this notion was supported during an incident I'd like to forget.

With perspective, I've come to the conclusion that the reasons for the lack of support I felt are multi-fold. And when I say lack of support, I mean it mostly in the general sense. I never felt a global, sweeping, abandonment. Basically, it wasn't just a matter of people having written me off. And, though I felt hurt throughout it all, presently there are no hard feelings, or, to be more accurate, not many hard feelings.

With even greater perspective, I think I'll see that I needed to go through this period without anyone holding my hand throughout it. In order for me to switch from the agonizingly passive approach I take to much of my life to a more proactive one, it has to be that way. And doing it myself does not mean without the aid of people. Far from it.

The nature of my relationships have changed, some more dramatically than others. I've been lucky to have the friends and family I have. Dynamics change -- it's the way of things, I know; I only wish more of the changes were for the better. Still, there are new relationships to be forged, old ones to rekindle. It's not so bad.