The subject of dreams
I am all blah and depressed. Curled up on the couch and cried after work. Then I got moving and I baked some sourdough and banana bread. Both came out a bit too dark. Now I have a glass of wine, have returned to the couch, and I am trying to lift my spirits.
I just want some cuddles and to feel like all is okay in the world. Instead I am having restless dreams at night about tornadoes, strange houses that feel familiar but are wrong, and dying by my own hands. I had a dream about a man named Jack, a figment of my imagination with a scar on his cheek who used to give me bad dreams as a kid. These sorts of nightmares, where you don't wake up screaming but you wake up disturbed, don't inspire good rest. I wish I knew what my brain was trying to tell me.
I just want some cuddles and to feel like all is okay in the world. Instead I am having restless dreams at night about tornadoes, strange houses that feel familiar but are wrong, and dying by my own hands. I had a dream about a man named Jack, a figment of my imagination with a scar on his cheek who used to give me bad dreams as a kid. These sorts of nightmares, where you don't wake up screaming but you wake up disturbed, don't inspire good rest. I wish I knew what my brain was trying to tell me.