Of Sleeping and Waking Thoughts

I had some very strange dreams last night.  Some were interesting, some were kind of funny, and at least one was pretty scary.

Some of the highlights include:

–being in a very strange stage production, where I got to dance with Kevin Bacon…except Kevin was sort of uppity, and had strict rules about being touched.  Somehow I doubt he’s really like that.  I see him as having more of a sense of humor, as perhaps evidenced by his Footloose entrance on the Jimmy Kimmel Show or his even earlier dance-capades on Will and Grace.

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–hiding in dark and semi-underground school with other “kids,” in a video game-like battle against zombies, where found objects (even aerosol cans of air freshener) can be used as weapons.

And finally… a sort of terrifying nightmare where I was being put under (anesthesia) to undergo open heart surgery.  I could feel myself succumbing to the effects of the anesthesia, trying to talk but having a hard time being heard, and then at the last moment, panicking at the prospect of having my chest cracked open and the pain I’d experience upon waking.  Wanting to tell them to stop but feeling like it was too late.

That last one has to mean something, right?

In case you are wondering, I’ve known a couple of people who have had open heart surgery.  My mom in particular has a rough time with the pain and healing.  Oddly enough, some of the older people I knew who had the same procedure who had an easier time healing, but I can only guess how traumatic it can really be.

But, then there are cool people like Robin Williams, who can always somehow seem to make the best of just about anything.

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I’m sure at least some of the dreams are stress related (the place that has had my wedding ring for repair for almost a month still hasn’t done anything with it, and my old bank is trying to screw me with undeserved overdraft fees–they tack on an additional $12 every three days I refuse to bring the account up to a zero balance by paying the fees they keep adding.) Maybe I need to try to be more like Robin Williams.  Nothing gets that guy down!

 

 

 

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Of Dreams and Nightmares and Waking Life

It’s supposed to be a pretty day today (59 and partially cloudy beats all the snow and rain and cold any day.)  I have stuff to do today, which includes shelter work and (hopefully) finally taking that injured stray with me that’s been wandering around the apartment complex.

But I have a pretty good headache, which started yesterday around noon and was nicely exacerbated by laying practically upside down, mouth open for an hour, having a cavity filled.  When the Novocaine wore off, I was in less than optimal shape.  I went to bed at 8 last night, hoping to ward off the impending migraine.

But then I had nightmares most of the night.   Dreams fraught with tension, but some sort of epic adventure… * Dreams of wanting but never quite being able to reach…  Dreams of confused desire… Dreams of frustration, where my every attempt to affect some sort of change is thwarted or ignored.

Dreams of needing to be onstage but forgetting my lines.  David Lynch-esque dreams where the events and the characters change but are the same.

And dreams of yearning sadness.  I had a dream last night about a friend of mine who OD’d a few months ago. He was alive and I kept trying to tell him I loved him and he could smoke all the weed he wanted, but for God’s sake, stay away from the heroin!  When I awoke and remembered he was already gone, I was struck by the usual feeling of quiet despair at not being able to change things.

Once, I woke up screaming.  I woke my kid too.  My husband slept on peacefully, so I guess it’s a good thing it was a nightmare and not a masked murderer in my bedroom.  I know myself enough by now to know that when I awaken screaming from nightmares, it’s often because I am so stressed out in my waking life that it spills over into my sleep.  Once, when I was still with a particularly troublesome ex, I awoke screaming every night for about a week.  I still lived with my parents at the time, and by the third night or so, my mom and stopped coming in to check on me when it happened. (Ironically, for the short but extremely stressful four months my husband and I had to live with my mother and step-father while I was pregnant, it was my husband who had the night terrors almost every night, often kicking out– and kicking me– in the middle of the night.)

And then this morning I get on Facebook and am greeted immediately with the sad but not unexpected news that my friend’s cat has passed away.  I kind of got attached to this cat because for some reason, even though they did not really look alike at all, she reminded me of my own girl who passed away 2 years ago.

Anyway, I’m not writing all this looking for sympathy or anything.  It’s just life…how things are.  But, since this is my blog, every once in a while I indulge in a post that has no real point except catharsis for me.  Thanks for coming along with me, readers.

Peace.