i’ve been seriously weirded out though by these dreams i have. they’re incredibly twisted, violent in a depraved sense, just simply horrible. it’s a specific type of dream, every once in a while i have dreams like that, but recently it’s been pretty regular. as a rule, i don’t usually remember my dreams, but every time i have one of these dreams, i remember it. it’s gone from once or twice a year to three times in one night. i’m concerned about this.

the first time i had one of these dreams that i can remember, i was four and a half. that’s how intense they are, i don’t remember much from being four, but i remember this dream. there were horses, cobwebs and the disney character goofy. it was the night my mother was in the hospital giving birth to my sister. april 19 or 20 1984.

what’s worse than the content of these dreams is the emotional intensity of them. i’m starting to dread falling asleep, afraid of waking up in the grip of panic, anxiety, fear. emotions so intense, they manifest physically, fists clenched so tightly my nails leave marks on my palms that last for half a day. muscle cramps in my calves from imaginary chases. back pain from the tension of hiding in small spaces for hours. sometimes, the violence is so horrible the need to throw up is what wakes me up. i wouldn’t be surprised if i was dealing with ptsd from witnessing brutal and traumatic events in my dreams.

the most recent dream happened two nights ago. a man was shot in front of me. blood and bone splattering on to a wall. chunks of brain matter. not some nicely cleaned up movie version of death, but pretty realistic. a really nice guy in my dream too. he was shot by an individual (man? creature?) who looked like an alive version of an anime character in three.d, with all the physical traits but in flesh and blood. something or someone impossible. maybe my mind’s way of making sure i know this isn’t real.

i’ve been trying to find out what the significance of these dreams are. interpretive literature isn’t shedding any light, just telling me that death signifies an end. thanks. there’s nothing anywhere that can break down what homicidal live versions of animated characters could possibly signify. or madwomen at tufnell park station in london. or alligators on seesaws.

online forums are of no help either. people who post about having these dreams are told to get professional help. get their sick minds sorted out. there’s one article that briefly mentions emotionally intense violent dreams being associated with depression (bing!), but i haven’t found anything yet to expand on that. at this point i don’t care what causes these dreams.

i just want to make them stop. i’m two steps away from self-induced insomnia as a solution. and y’all know how much i (usually) love sleep.

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i could do without mondays. they don’t do anything for me. it’s not only the dread of the work week, although that definitely is part of it. but if the workweek started on tuesday even, i’d be fine. i could just really do without mondays.

it’s possibly a cultural thing. the fact that weeks begin on mondays is an artificial construct, and i reject it. when i lived in the middle east, the first day of the week was saturday, weekends began on wednesday evenings. that’s more like my flow.

anyway, i digress. the whole point of this post was not to hate on mondays. i’m actually having a really good day. i knew it was a good day when i spilled coffee on my top and my response wasn’t “%$#@ing great”, but rather “thank god i’m wearing a dark shirt”. anyone who knows me knows that response is really out of character.

maybe it’s because i got enough sleep this morning. maybe it’s because the weekend was really productive. maybe it’s because i had a really intense and uncomfortable conversation last night that helped clarify some really big things. maybe it’s because i woke up early enough to pick up groceries, return dvds before they were overdue, and drop off my drycleaning. or maybe it’s just because.

my phone’s been blowing up this morning. but the highlight of the strange pre-10am phonecalls was some really good news. i spoke to a friend of mine overseas who told me she’s expecting her first child. this is a woman i love so much, i would die for her. and now she’s going to have a baby. nothing tops that, not today anyway.

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tons of stuff to do before tomorrow, but i’m not going to whinge about it. because i am very obviously and consciously procrastinating. oh well, it means i’ve been productive in other aspects of my life.

had a lot on my mind lately. trying to sort things out, prioritise, figure out who i am right now and who i want to be when i grow up. a lot of questions have been thrown my way, and while i’m not trying to figure out the answers right now, i need to get them out. clear out a little headspace, put them somewhere where i can come back to them later. when i have some time (on a side note – that’s something i need to reclaim. time. sad but true).

• how do i assign value? to things, people, memories? how do i figure out what and who is important to me and for what reasons?
• what are my politics? and are they truly mine, or were they just acquired along the way?
• what calibrates my moral compass? it’s easy to figure out right and wrong most of the time, but what’s my decision process for the shady areas?
• what do i want to achieve?
• what are my guiding principles? and how are they/should they be manifesting?
• how healthy am i? ok, so i know the answer to this one, and the question really is: how can i make myself healthier physically, mentally, spiritually?

typing them down, they seem like such vague and abstract and lofty questions. i doubt i’ll be able to answer them.

i’m feeling really disassociated from self these days. too much blockage. and the shadow of an oncoming depression is hanging around. sometimes, i don’t pay attention to where my mind is going and i walk in it for a few steps before i catch myself. but before i end up in that darkness (or before it overpowers me), i need to clear my headspace. i need to be able to figure out my defences.

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