![time1485384_960_720.webp](https://files.peakd.com/file/peakd-hive/zeleiracordero/pu4uYGdN-time-1485384_960_720.webp)
[Time by xaviandrew in Pixabay](https://pixabay.com/es/photos/tiempo-reloj-hora-minutos-1485384/)

*¿It was part of the dream, I could feel it, but I didn't know where I was in the dream. Was I the victim or the killer? And every time I tell him it gets more horrible, she smiles and says "in due time".* 

*What does "in due time" mean? Is there time to lose when one feels that one is losing one's mind, and only the procrastination suffered so far can elucidate whether I am living a fateful fantasy or is it a cruel reality delayed by a feeling of self-flagellation that is entangled with Ariadne's thread trying to get me out of the maze of my head?*

*She seems proud of me. She doesn't think it's crazy that I look like a murderer slashing a body that looks like mine. She encourages me to remember the path of that dream that I fear and I don't return on my own, but because of her insistence that redeems my tendency to postpone everything, even sleeping in holy peace.*

*She tells me to keep dreaming and I try to distract her with funny stories so I don't relive the final scene of the dream where I'm killed or I kill someone else. I don't want to find out. I'd rather stop dreaming, even if it's forced by medication.*

*"You can't stop sleeping, it's not a solution," she told me in her role as a psychotherapist. "Come on, I'll go with you to solve it." And, while she was talking with that soft voice of his, rattling the teaspoon against the cup of infusion she gave me to drink, I fell into a hole, slowly, as slowly as if there were no gravity, that is, I thought I was falling, but I didn't move, I only suffered the sensation of a vertigo that never ended, that squeezed my chest with fear, while I saw only myself, in a round and silent darkness.*

*I try to organize my thoughts and I can't. I am terrified of having fallen into a bottomless pit. I see nothing, hear nothing, feel nothing. My fear wanders through that little space better than I do. There's no one else but me. I try to move but I feel tired and the passage of time does not help me.* 

*I despair at suffering every second as if it were hours.  I lose count of how long I have been here in this limbo where she has immersed me. But, at the same time, I begin to feel safe, if there is no one, there will be no murder, there will be no nightmare, I will not have to face that night vision that suggests to me that I am witnessing someone's death and I do not want to go back to that traumatic moment when I could be sure that I am the dead one.*


- - -

![](https://cdn.steemitimages.com/DQmXdD8hMvJbpLLzxhRodBLkP7J9urP5Nv3dH3z1P5QWSLz/image.png)

<center>
![36811967_10216651620944235_8001620619017846784_n .png](https://cdn.steemitimages.com/DQmadzuG9qY9eUxPaxuJqkgWJACbDFJgWPU1ZKdogTE54xU/36811967_10216651620944235_8001620619017846784_n%20.png)

<center>@zeleiracordero</center>

25/03/2020</center>


![](https://cdn.steemitimages.com/DQmXdD8hMvJbpLLzxhRodBLkP7J9urP5Nv3dH3z1P5QWSLz/image.png)