(no subject)
traumatic dreams. fun dreams. traumatic dreams.
the one i love telling me what i think is true and struggle to admit to myself.
violent tears, reactions, and running away.
a party is found. it's neil gaiman's birthday, and he's there with arrington de dionyso and his wife, amanda palmer. he has a really kind face and tells me something that is inspirational as a writer. i don't remember it, but i remember his kind face.
then i'm at work and it's strange. everyone in the restaurant becomes distracted by a truck that has pulled up and is filled with long haired white cats that look like unicorn. they lay down the gate of the truck, and all of the cats start running out. i try to catch them, look them in the eye, and find unicorn. many of them have lipstick marks where their unicorn horns would be, the way i used to kiss unicorn so everyone would know what he was. i can't find him. there is a gypsy woman who collected the cats and stole the truck. again, i have a surge of anxiety. i scream and yell at her. "why have you removed them from their homes, you asshole!". she smiled serenely and asked me "isn't it wonderful?". all of the cats got away and i never found unicorn. "no! take them home!". she did nothing.
strange interpersonal interactions. i seem to be doing well despite i scattered and overwhelmed i feel right now. especially today, when i have a million things in which to catch up. half way through the paper i'm writing, i stopped to burn sage and return my room to a sanctuary state.
i want to find a new job. i think it's time.
i may not be able to go home over the holidays.
the possibilities of what i could do with my life are endless, as, though i'm dedicated to the path, i am also quick to walk away when one thing is no longer working for me.
now everything is tangled because i truly love certain things. certain things i've manifested for myself as something that i wanted.
when i'm done with school, i would love to run around the world frivolously.
but how could i leave fruit juice.
11:11....make a wish.
today i am going to...
calm myself.
finish writing my paper on the experience of soldiers and PTSD.
hone in on what i will be presenting for my twenty minute, end of the quarter research topic.
go to the store and buy the necessary ingredients to make hollandaise sauce and rice for the school potluck tomorrow.
make those things.
swallow melatonin...
go to bed at a reasonable hour.
perhaps play keyboard in the in between time.
"and then a little sign reminds me that i'm fine."
i spend so much time not thinking about school, because there are so many realms of my existence right now. i don't read the books fully before i write the papers, so i have this constant fear that i will be figured out. however, most all i've received so far is positive feedback from my professor, so even if i feel like i'm failing, i know i'm still in the game....and it's very important to stay there, because it will be really cathartic to finish college once and for all.
[+] It shows that you put work into this paper. Your insights and personal reflections led to some great seminar discussions, I hope. You seem to have a strong appreciation for Jung's open-minded phenomenological approach. And you seem to be overcoming a confused and unstable childhood while discovering a cosmogonic interpenetrative consciousness.
[+] Excellent effort. Your best PS paper so far. It is clear that you put more time and effort into this paper. I agree that many with mental illnesses can be quite creative. However most creative artists live quite normally with families and regular schedules particularly in other parts of the world. And your thoughts about emotional dis-ease experienced as physical sensations, the need to validate sadness you feel rather than medicate it away, and the wonderful value of a more holistic understanding of the human psyche are wonderful insights that I agree with.
climb to the top of these obligations, take the lessons.
then figure yourself out. it's essential.