we were at a house I’d dreamt of before, but this time it was my uncle’s house.
He told me I’d gotten fat.
I told him with tears “I’m sorry but I have an—”
“—eating disorder,” he finished.
I threw myself on a blow-up mattress.
He rubbed my back (he is not blood-related, and he’s hot, so this was erotic)
He told me that my mother would probably be able to help me better than him.
He told my mother about it.
she talked to me about it and I was mortified. I didn’t want that.
Never. She could never know. would I have to go to treatment? How do
people tell theit parents about their own issues? Would my dad find out? (he did)
Lots of other really neat things happened but that part is most important part.
When I woke up I was crying, and I thought, “Wait. That wasn’t a
dream. That really happened. Oh god that was two days ago and that
really happened and now I’m in my bed but I swear that was real oh my
god can’t it be a dream why can’t this be a dream this can’t be real”
it wasn’t real.
but I didn’t realize that or remember it until five minutes ago