New Start
From now on, I want this to be my dream journal (for the most part, I can't promise I won't relapse), because I think I bore people when I tell them about my dreams over and over, but I need to record or repeat them somehow. They nag me otherwise, I can't get free of them until I've passed them on. I don't care if anyone ever reads them, it's enough of a release to write them down.
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I had to take a bus to school. I was back in Vermont, and I was doing an early-morning commute. I had to wait in the Burlington Square Mall for the next bus, and I desperately needed to find the bathroom. They had remodeled, all the halls were winding, and there were new staircases. I tried to go up one, then discovered that it was an optical illusion, I was actually going down. The stairs were slanted downwards, and I kept building momentum. I got to the bottom of one flight at a run, now terrified, and turned around to go back up. The stairs I had just run down were now going further down. There were no stairs going up, so I exited into the hallway. A business woman walked past me and sneered at me like I was riffraff and worthless, like I smelled bad. Otherwise the place seemed abandoned. I found another door and went inside, it was an enormous stair case, in the same color scheme as the stairwell in Gault Library, but hugging the walls of a huge room. I started going up, feeling very aware of how high above the ground I was. I was clinging to the railings, though I thought they might give out at any time. I was careful not to look into the middle of the room, to the bottom. I heard a door open far below me and the heavy, anxious breathing of someone running up the stairs. At first I just sped up, but eventually I stopped to see who was behind me. A girl about my age was grinning wildly as she took two stairs at a time, breathing loudly in excitement. I could feel her energy, I could feel that she was about to do something reckless. She climbed on to the railing, and stood on its rounded edge for a moment. I was paralyzed, watching her. She jumped, I screamed. I heard triumphant laughter, she had landed on both feet on another railing a few levels down, was barely balancing. I finally looked over the edge, to see where she would have landed if she had missed. The cement floor below us had a small amount of water rushing over it, not nearly enough to break her fall. I found myself moving without conscious thought, I was climbing on to the railing too. I wanted to know how it felt to be above that. My hands were slippery with sweat, my shoes had little tread, and I was terrified and unsure how I had come to be standing here. The girl was watching me with open hatred. After what seemed like several minutes, but was probably only seconds, I climbed down, certain I would lose my grip and fall.
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I also dreamed that I told Izabella about this dream at a Lowry dinner, and she told me I should have a prescription to Xanax. I was surprised, but immediately knew she was right. I said, "Really?" and she shrugged and said, "I think all of us should be." I nodded.
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I had to take a bus to school. I was back in Vermont, and I was doing an early-morning commute. I had to wait in the Burlington Square Mall for the next bus, and I desperately needed to find the bathroom. They had remodeled, all the halls were winding, and there were new staircases. I tried to go up one, then discovered that it was an optical illusion, I was actually going down. The stairs were slanted downwards, and I kept building momentum. I got to the bottom of one flight at a run, now terrified, and turned around to go back up. The stairs I had just run down were now going further down. There were no stairs going up, so I exited into the hallway. A business woman walked past me and sneered at me like I was riffraff and worthless, like I smelled bad. Otherwise the place seemed abandoned. I found another door and went inside, it was an enormous stair case, in the same color scheme as the stairwell in Gault Library, but hugging the walls of a huge room. I started going up, feeling very aware of how high above the ground I was. I was clinging to the railings, though I thought they might give out at any time. I was careful not to look into the middle of the room, to the bottom. I heard a door open far below me and the heavy, anxious breathing of someone running up the stairs. At first I just sped up, but eventually I stopped to see who was behind me. A girl about my age was grinning wildly as she took two stairs at a time, breathing loudly in excitement. I could feel her energy, I could feel that she was about to do something reckless. She climbed on to the railing, and stood on its rounded edge for a moment. I was paralyzed, watching her. She jumped, I screamed. I heard triumphant laughter, she had landed on both feet on another railing a few levels down, was barely balancing. I finally looked over the edge, to see where she would have landed if she had missed. The cement floor below us had a small amount of water rushing over it, not nearly enough to break her fall. I found myself moving without conscious thought, I was climbing on to the railing too. I wanted to know how it felt to be above that. My hands were slippery with sweat, my shoes had little tread, and I was terrified and unsure how I had come to be standing here. The girl was watching me with open hatred. After what seemed like several minutes, but was probably only seconds, I climbed down, certain I would lose my grip and fall.
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I also dreamed that I told Izabella about this dream at a Lowry dinner, and she told me I should have a prescription to Xanax. I was surprised, but immediately knew she was right. I said, "Really?" and she shrugged and said, "I think all of us should be." I nodded.