This morning, I couldn’t finish during s** with my SO, and it feels bad to accept that as a man. I passed out after trying for nearly an hour and had a terrible dream about a time when I was being physically abused by my mother. This was one of the most lucid dreams I had, and it was scary AF.

In my dream, I saw myself as I am today, but in the mirror, and to everyone else, I was still just a child. It started with my dad and I talking at the dinner table. Guests were arriving soon, and I had told my dad off for having mental issues which he was unwilling to seek treatment for (this is true even in real life). Then he told me I had been staying over for too long and I should leave soon. Mom walks in the house, getting back from doing yard work. She also needs a shower.

Then, out of the blue, my dad’s friends show up with their dog, and the dog was scratching at my leg, which caused it to bleed. This is when I tried to go into the shower. My mom walked in and tried to pull me out by my wrist. I was not budging, so she got into the bathroom, closed the door, picked up a beer bottle, held it in one hand, and used the other hand to yank as hard as she could on my wrist. I kept trying to tell her to stop but she wouldn’t listen. She insists I am wearing a wristband and it needs to come off.

I look around the bathroom, panicking, and find another beer bottle. I pick it up and tell her to stop pulling my arm. She still won’t listen. I had no choice but to defend myself, but didn’t want to use a weapon, so I dropped it and took my mom down to the ground. Even there, she won’t stop pulling on my arm. I’m worried she’ll break the bottle on my head or grab the scissors on the floor and start cutting me. Instead she screams for her husband to help me. Then, she starts screaming “r***” and proceeds to throw me into the wall. She unlocks the door and runs into the bedroom while crying and saying I tried to r*** her.

My dad and his friends stared at that door while eating food and drinking beers. Nobody wanted to help either of us. Then, they went back to talking amongst themselves and I broke down crying. My dad insists he doesn’t believe my mom anymore, and that she got fat; being fair; he also got fat. While crying, in a fetal position, I tried to tell my mom I was sorry. If she felt the need to be violent with me, then I felt as though I deserved it and felt guilt for her behavior. I guess I was still young after all.

I woke up an hour after falling asleep, bawling my f****** eyes out.