|
10:05 p.m. | Wednesday, Sept. 25, 2002
Day 5 and dreams Day 5: Sept. 21st I had very strange dreams last night. They were all weirdly connected too. I'm not quite sure of the sequence though. In on there was this huge basement with four massive fireplaces, two on one wall and two on the other. Two of them were blazing and the others just smoldering. For some reason a strong wind came down the chimney of the smoldering ones and started blowing sparks around the room. A large spark got in my hair (I had long hair for some reason) and I remember pulling it out and burning the hell out of my fingers. I was also running for water to put out the fires. There was a bar at the end of the room but all I could find were glasses. I've had a few dreams about out of control fires lately. Usually in large fireplaces or fire pits in the basement of a large house. Another dream I had was that it was my birthday or engagement party. I think in the end it turned out to be my birthday. There were tons of people around and presents. There was this guy there that I was attracted to and I knew he felt the same way. We ended up kissing a few times in secret. The kind of kissing that is incredibly passionate and desperate, where you are pushing your bodies together so hard it is like trying to meld together. I think I loved him. Except when I as back at the party my ex-fianc� (from real life) was there and I was still supposed to marry him. When I looked at him I knew I didn't love him, I felt nothing. His gift to me was a book that he had made up himself, filled with sentiment about our life together and his love for me. I was crying as I read it and everyone thought I was crying because it was so sweet and beautiful, which I was, but I was also crying because I didn't know how to tell him I didn't want to marry him anymore. After reading the book I stood up and hugged him and he kissed me with as much passion as the other guy had except it felt sloppy and gross. I thought to myself "this can't be the he has always kissed, can it?" He let me go and I realized I was wearing a wedding dress, though I didn't think it was strange, I felt beautiful. I noticed the man I really wanted to be with leave, I watched him go and didn't know what to do. Finally, I decided, fuck it, ran after him and jumped into his car. Then I woke up, but it was waking up into another dream. I knew what happened before was all a dream and I felt so empty because the passion I had felt wasn't real. I crawled out of bed and knew that the dress wasn't real, the party hadn't been real and I was definitely not engaged. It had been my birthday though and I crawled across the floor to my desk to put on my glasses. The room was like it was when I had been in high school, before the renovations. I stood up and looked through cards from people I didn't know or care about. There were a couple of presents but they were nothing I could use or wanted. I started to cry, wishing for things I never had. On a totally different subject I think I�m hearing things again or there is a really large rat in the bathroom. I hear other things too and I�m not sure if it is just the noises of this place or not. I really hate this place. It can take up to half an hour to get anyone to answer when you press the call bell. That seems dangerous to me. The food sucks ass and everyone knows it, but they still tell you to enjoy it. When I get bored enough I seem to turn to tweezers or scissors and start removing hair. Morrison should be here soon and I feel about as sexy as a sack of potatoes. Having Morrison over tonight was strange. I started sleeping with him originally after about my first month in Parkridge back in November so it was "like old times". I don't think that was altogether a good thing. For one we've been used to a double bed and the beds here are tiny. The real drawback though was that I felt inhibited again. Maybe because of the small space or that there are people living in rooms next to mine, or memories of when I was less comfortable with our situation. I was too conscious of what was going on around me to enjoy myself as much as I could have. Getting over that is a hard thing for me, that is being self-conscious. I'm always thinking about how I look, and act, whether or not I seem stupid or smart, if what I�m doing is right for the situation. To just let go and be myself is not something I do very often. I�m not sure if I get a chance very often either because of restrictions of situation (wheelchair, etc) and society, but most of all because of the restrictions I place on myself. I'm convinced that there are depression-causing chemicals in the water here. Maybe they want to make the patients here more passive. It could also be that, considering my previous experiences in institutions, any time in one makes me stark raving mad. No worries though, I�ve been this paranoid for quite some time. I just started reading a book called The Pornographer's Poem by Michael Turner. I'm having a really hard time putting it down. Thanks for the recommend Crystal. Sometimes when I look at the time it is much earlier or much later than it should be considering when I looked at it last. It weirds me out - that my memory or sense of time (or both) can be that screwed up.
|
|
|
This is my blogchalk:
Canada, Saskatchewan, Saskatoon, , English, , Female, 26-30, Reading.