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I think I had a dream that might be very helpful to some people if it means what I think it means. I was lost in an airsoft arena (for anyone who doesn't know that's paintball but with plastic bbs) that was more of a plywood maze than a coherent arena. I had one of my real steel guns with me (I'd been shooting the day before) but it had no ammo. I wanted to find my way out, but I had no clue where I was. I decided to follow this kid, a 10 year old boy in full gear who navigated like a pro, and as I followed him I'd get lit up by players who either didn't see my hands up or just wanted to shoot at me because I was defenseless. Another thing, I only had shorts on, no protection so the bbs stung like hell. We were making our way very slowly, and I had taken a lot of shots and was getting irritated. Finally I started searching around on the ground for airsoft magazines that would fit my gun and still had some bbs in them. I found a small magazine with odd looking bbs. They had the shape of practice rounds for police training courses, like little pills cut in half. I loaded them and let the bolt chamber a round, but it discharged and accidentally shot the kid in front of me in the head. The sound was deafening and everyone around us stopped. The kid in front of me collapsed to the ground. I threw my gun and picked him up. I saw there was a hole in the back of his helmet. I'd somehow loaded live ammo. I checked his cheeks to see if any blood was trickling. There wasn't any flowing, but I knew he was dead. I started to cry. I could feel myself crying, but I could only hear ringing. And right in front of us was a huge hole in the wall, right around the corner, that lead to a park with a calm pond, sunny and beautiful. I think the dream represents my journey through FDR so far and how I've been backsliding into forms of verbal abuse online. The arena represents the world. The airsoft bbs/guns represent dysfunction and abuse. The child who leads me is my true self/inner child. The arena/world is a place of uncertainty and fear where dysfunctional people can pop out of nowhere and attack you at any time. Me having my gun means I have the capacity for abuse, but keeping it unloaded means I choose not to participate. Wearing only shorts means I'm very vulnerable, which makes sense considering striving for virtue requires vulnerability. My child self is the kid in all the gear picking players off and slowly advancing towards the exit. But when I pick up bbs that I can fire back at these people, they aren't just bbs. They turn into real bullets. That's why I had a real gun. I realized how deadly and corrosive this abuse can be, and that's why I kept it empty. I still have the capacity to abuse, but I choose not to. And that explains why everyone else had bb guns. The shots didn't hurt like bullets, they only stung like bbs because I'm becoming immune to abuse. Everyone has real guns and real bullets. The abuse is 100% deadly, but only if you shoot back. And that explains why I shot the kid. By loading what I thought was just bbs, in truth I was loading 100% deadly live ammo, because abuse is perceived to the true self as just that. Live fire. And when I loaded my gun, I was choosing to abuse. And the only person an abusive me hurts is my true self. That's why I accidentally shot him in the back of the head. The second I choose that path, my true self is dead. And freedom was just around the corner. Is anyone else struggling with resisting the urge to be snarky or "clever" in comment sections and discussions? I can resist it to the point of seeing it for what it really is and losing the urge but sometimes things slip through.