Another strange dream last night. This one I kept falling back into. It started “normal” enough. I had gotten a job at some kind of MLM operation. I was going to meetings and learning the ropes. These meetings always ended with some sort of product test. This went on for a while and everything seemed fine. I ended up going home, which was my grandmother’s house.
As time went on, things started getting weird. I would be going down L Road to the library. Suddenly things would go dark and gloomy and I freaked out. I tried running back the same way I came. But I never could escape the place.
This all went on for a while. Then the MLM thing turned cultish. There were people chasing me every time I tried to leave. As before, this went on for a while. It got more and more intense. In the end, people were holding me down as I struggled to get away.
Thankfully I woke up at this point and listened to a podcast to center my mind.
I’ve been having bizarre dreams lately. Last night’s dream has been 0n my mind all day.
It took place in my house at the present day. A drifter comes by and settles down in the family room. I finally get her out but I can’t close the garage door fast enough and she keeps coming back in. This happened three times. I finally decided to call the police. There were three phones in the room. None of them actually worked. One phone was garbled. One phone wouldn’t dial. The third one was just dead.
I finally went upstairs and managed to call the police on a phone up there. It took me a long time to communicate what was going on. It felt like we were speaking two different languages.
The officer finally came and I explained what was happening. It was at this point where I woke up. There was no resolution to the situation. I never figured out why communicating was so hard. I wish I could have fallen back into the dream just to see how the whole thing ended.
I had a horrible dream this morning. I was dreaming that I had had a baby. It was the most independent and easy going baby. She basically came out of the womb self sufficient. I was a horrible mother. I neglected the baby. I didn’t want anything to do with her.
Not too hard to see where this comes from.
So much has happened. I had an upper endoscopy last Thursday that was a literal nightmare. The good and bad news is they didn’t find anything. So I’m still nauseous all the time and have stomach pains. The doctor didn’t return my call today. Hopefully he will tomorrow. I’ve been crying off and on because the whole thing retriggered some of my PTSD issues. My anxiety has been through the roof. I guess I should call my GP and see what she has to say. I’ve been trying to hold onto my sanity until I get back to Daejeon and I can see my psychiatrist there.
Sleep is a joke. When I do sleep, I feel like I dream constantly. They aren’t nightmares, per se. But the people in them are faceless. It’s really quite creepy.
I’ve been living with high levels of pain since July. I was hoping it would calm down on its own, but that doesn’t seem like it’s going to happen. Again, I was waiting to get back to Korea to see my rheumatologist, but that’s looking 2-3 weeks off. I don’t know how much longer I can take pain at this level. Sleeping hurts, sitting, stand and walking hurt. Basically, everything hurts. I guess it’s another reason to call my GP.
I’m worried about going back to work. I’m worried about the time change and jumping right in to a new school with a curriculum I’ve never seen. Just the thought of packing overwhelms me.
I’m tired. I’m anxious. I’m depressed. And I hurt.
It’s been a long time since I had an abuse flavored nightmare. And for that, I’m thankful. It made me realize how far I’ve come. What made this one all the more disturbing is that it was conjoined with “memories” of what my best friend’s funeral would have been like. The whole thing was bizarre. Besides M, I can only identify one other person, C. C and M were good friends. I was friends with C too, more so now since M’s death.
I was at M’s wake in the dream. Of course, I couldn’t really go because I was in Korea. If I had had the money, I would have gone in a heartbeat and told my boss to go fuck herself for a week. I was devastated because I wasn’t there for M. We talked on the phone and IM, but I wasn’t there for her in person through her cancer battle. And that I regret.
In my dream the whole wake turned into a three ring circus. The music was all wrong. I have a feeling I knew the priest, but I can’t put my finger on who it was. At the end, I was in a room all by myself crying. The priest came in and asked if I wanted to talk, so I started talking about M. I have a feeling the priest was really Father A from Austin, but it didn’t look like him. All he kept saying was “There’s something else you need to talk about”. I kept insisting no. Finally I was screaming at him “I don’t want to talk about my father!” And then my father walks in.
That’s where I wake up. I was sweating and shaking, on the verge of tears. I think deep down I know my therapy really isn’t finished. I’ll be heading back to Korea soon (I got a job in the city I was working before so I can keep my pdoc and rheumy). I guess I’ll try to find someone who does therapy. I won’t be starting work until 1 or so, which gives me time to see docs in the morning.
Even though it’s been hours, I’m still quite upset. My fibro pain is flaring up so I took a pain pill, which of course is making me sleepy. I think I’ll put on some mindless TV and maybe fall asleep to it even though it’s on 3:30. Not that I really want to sleep. I want my brain to shut the hell up. Maybe I should have taken some Ativan instead of the pain pill…
I was dreaming about Christmas last night. But it centered around standing in lines. I don’t know what I was trying to get. I think there was a grocery store involved. No matter what I did, I couldn’t get to the register. There were people pushing in front of me. When I was next, the thing would close up so I had to go join another line. It was barrier after barrier.
It does make sense. I feel like I’m in a perpetual state of limbo right now. Will UH write off my medical bills? Will I still have my job in Hong Kong? When will my energy and stamina come back? How much longer will I be on antibiotics? Hell, will my life ever get back to normal?
Three sticks to get an IV. 10 or 12 shots from the neck to the tailbone. Yeah. Pin cushion pretty much sums it up. It’s worth it. The shots are down to maintenance to try and prevent the pain from escalating.
I woke up from a dream in a state of full blown panic (hence the IV to give me some Valium). I was still very worked up when I got to Dr. P’s office. I think the dream had something to do with the pink pajamas. I really don’t want to write about it now.
And, as it’s NCIS time, I’m off. I got one out of three tests written and started and a second.
Woke up to my mother yelling “You little slut. Why are you naked? You’re going to get it tonight.”
Nice dream to wake up to after an early morning bout of insomnia.
Nearly 11 hours at work today. I hope I can get out of bed in time to get to PT tomorrow. I need to talk to Dr. K about something stronger for the pain, at least for the next couple days so I can get some decent rest. I can’t get comfortable in my bed (and sharing a twin bed with two cats doesn’t make it any easier).
First of all, I’m sick. I hate parents who send their kids to school sick. It must be making the rounds as a friend of mine in Busan had it last week.
So I was sleeping this afternoon. In the dream were my two cats acting as mamas. There was a tiny little kitten they were nursing and cleaning and caring for.
Me, as an adult was observing this. But somehow I knew that little kitten was me.
It’s no secret I’m struggling right now. Muscle weakness in my right leg has led to three or four falls in the last two months. My pain level is hovering at a 5 or 6. I’m depressed and feeling suicidal. I’m overburdened at work. Nobody knows what is going on with this transition to this franchised curriculum. My boss will not even entertain hiring another foreign teacher. Yes, I’m only working 27 hours a week, but that’s compressed into a 30 hour span.
Yes, again. It’s in my dreams. It’s in the back of my mind during the day. I can feel what is being done, but I can see who. It’s like I have blinders on. I don’t think I literally had a blindfold on, that wasn’t any of my abusers’ MO. I don’t know why I have this thing about knowing who it was.
It’s like hovering over my body, but I can’t see the surroundings. I have no sense of scale. I can’t tell how old I am.
This is eating at me. I’ve tried the old trick of putting it in a box, but that’s never worked for me.
My panic levels are going up. I’m going to take my night meds and read some Patricia Cornwell. Nothing like a good murder mystery to help you relax.