Singing songs that make you slit your wrists...
I had awful dreams last night. They were scary and disturbing, and one of them seemed like it just NEVER ended. I should mention that neither of them really had nightmare qualitites. The second dream (first one written) had a few, but once I saw the dog, it quit being scary and just became....anxiety-ridden?
In my second dream, which is the less-disturbing of the two (but no less realistic), I was asleep and was woken up hearing what sounded like the lock on my apartment door being turned and the door opened. (No comment on the fact that waking up in your dreams is also a sign of stress, IIRC.) Looked for weapons in reach, and grabbed a tiny pair of scissors. Went out of my bedroom and into what should have been the bathroom, but was set up like the living room back at my apartment with B. As I went in, I saw something flash through the room. It looked like it ended up in the corner between the two papasan chairs. I couldn't see anything like a person standing there, so I ducked down and looked through the base of the chairs, and saw a horrible, nastly, squat and evil looking black dog like a bulldog. It came towards me, and I tried to stab it. The scisors wouldn't penetrate anything. In my dream-head, I was thinking that if I didn't stab it, it would attack me. But if I took my scissors away to get a good swing (I had them pressed agains the dog, trying to achieve penetration :-P), it would attack me too. This conflicted with what I was SEEING in my dream, which was that the dog wasn't fixing to attach, and that until I had tried to stab it, it was trying to leave. By then it WAS getting mad, because I was trying to hurt it! End dream, with me confused, scared, and guilty.
Dream one, I dreamed I slit my wrists at my desk at work. (And since I was at work, I had to deal with this for what felt like 8 hours in my dream - that was the worst part.) I took in my pocket knife - the one I carried at Starr and that I promised myself would never be used to intentionally hurt myself - and cut huge slices across both my wrists. I was somehow expecting someone to try and stop me, I dunno. I was definitely expecting to bleed. I didn't bleed. I could look through the cuts and see muscle and vein and stuff, but no blood. Eventually, my left wrist scabbed up a little, and my right wrist bled some. It got on my sweater, and I went to wash the cuts off. The whole time, I kept staring at the cuts, unable to figure out whether I had really WANTED to die, or wanted to have someone pay attention to how much distress I was in, or just bleed. By then I was embarassed, because the marks were big and noticible and I didn't have sleeves to cover them.
And sometime during last night, I dreamed about going to a MCR concert. It might have been right after the first dream, with my wrists still slit. Which makes the lyric just more appropriate.
I'm a little disturbed. I'm not the Patron Saint of Boring Dreams or anything, but this is a step above and beyond the usual calibre of my dreams. Not really sure why I posted this, except maybe someone else can help me with what it means (heh, like I don't really know, but outside input would be appreciated and interesting.)
In my second dream, which is the less-disturbing of the two (but no less realistic), I was asleep and was woken up hearing what sounded like the lock on my apartment door being turned and the door opened. (No comment on the fact that waking up in your dreams is also a sign of stress, IIRC.) Looked for weapons in reach, and grabbed a tiny pair of scissors. Went out of my bedroom and into what should have been the bathroom, but was set up like the living room back at my apartment with B. As I went in, I saw something flash through the room. It looked like it ended up in the corner between the two papasan chairs. I couldn't see anything like a person standing there, so I ducked down and looked through the base of the chairs, and saw a horrible, nastly, squat and evil looking black dog like a bulldog. It came towards me, and I tried to stab it. The scisors wouldn't penetrate anything. In my dream-head, I was thinking that if I didn't stab it, it would attack me. But if I took my scissors away to get a good swing (I had them pressed agains the dog, trying to achieve penetration :-P), it would attack me too. This conflicted with what I was SEEING in my dream, which was that the dog wasn't fixing to attach, and that until I had tried to stab it, it was trying to leave. By then it WAS getting mad, because I was trying to hurt it! End dream, with me confused, scared, and guilty.
Dream one, I dreamed I slit my wrists at my desk at work. (And since I was at work, I had to deal with this for what felt like 8 hours in my dream - that was the worst part.) I took in my pocket knife - the one I carried at Starr and that I promised myself would never be used to intentionally hurt myself - and cut huge slices across both my wrists. I was somehow expecting someone to try and stop me, I dunno. I was definitely expecting to bleed. I didn't bleed. I could look through the cuts and see muscle and vein and stuff, but no blood. Eventually, my left wrist scabbed up a little, and my right wrist bled some. It got on my sweater, and I went to wash the cuts off. The whole time, I kept staring at the cuts, unable to figure out whether I had really WANTED to die, or wanted to have someone pay attention to how much distress I was in, or just bleed. By then I was embarassed, because the marks were big and noticible and I didn't have sleeves to cover them.
And sometime during last night, I dreamed about going to a MCR concert. It might have been right after the first dream, with my wrists still slit. Which makes the lyric just more appropriate.
I'm a little disturbed. I'm not the Patron Saint of Boring Dreams or anything, but this is a step above and beyond the usual calibre of my dreams. Not really sure why I posted this, except maybe someone else can help me with what it means (heh, like I don't really know, but outside input would be appreciated and interesting.)