Disturbing Dreams
I've just woken up from a dream I find both meaningful and disturbing, one that I feel is important to record. I've put down what I can remember.
I was in a large, open building, configured kind of like a restaurant, with a lot of windows that made it easy to see in and out. It was dark, and there were a lot of flashing lights coming through these windows, mostly red and white, that cast long shadows on every surface. I was standing in roughly the middle of the room, surveying the disturbing scene around me. Women, beaten, bloody, and naked, lay sprawled everywhere on the ground around me. Something horrible had happened here. I had two towels in my hand, which I wrapped around one of the women nearest me, who seemed to still have some energy left in her. I picked her disturbingly lightweight body up, into my arms, and started walking out of the building. About halfway I was stopped by a police man, who ordered me to stop. By the way regarded about this man, I felt that he was my boss, and a friend, and so I told him "this is more important" (more important than what, I don't know) and kept walking, out of the building. I knew I couldn't go far, and had no intention of doing so, so I began walking clockwise around the building to try to find some privacy. I asked the girl who she was (I don't remember now) and how she had come to be in this situation. She rested her head on my shoulder, mouth by my ear, and proceeded to begin telling me the most heartbreaking story I had ever heard, of the death of family and friends, forced drug use, starvation, and prostitution. I kept walking as she told the story of how she systematically lost control of her life, around and around the building, until at one point in the middle of her story I walked to the rear of the building and noticed it seemed unnaturally dark. Looking around, I saw other cops walking past me, and (strangely) my friend Tiffany peering through the glass windows and onto the scene inside. She turned, her face brightening when she saw me, and proceeded to give me a hug. This was significant, because it was at this point I noticed I was no longer carrying the girl, but on the phone with her. Tiffany noticed my cell, told me she would call me later, and wandered off. I continued my trek around the building. The girl's story continued uninterrupted, though as I walked I noticed I sometimes had trouble hearing her, and sometimes got distracted. The times I got distracted, though, I usually blamed it on connection troubles. The more I walked, the more troubles I had, and at the point where I would normally hang up and call back, I was woken up by my dad.
I think the dream disturbed me for a few reasons. First was the intense emotion the story of the girl evoked from me. Normally when I dream, everything that happens (including emotional response) is sort of third-person, removed from the scene being played out. I usually know it's a dream. This time, however, I was completely wrapped up in the scene, seeing everything from the first person, and having the emotional responses I would have had if I had been in that situation in real life. I also woke up feeling the strange urge, almost a need to record this story, and I found that only a few of the details faded while I wrote (normally I forget what I'm writing about completely).
The most important aspect of the dream, I feel, was the transition from the closeness of carrying the girl to the distance of phone conversation, and to the breakdowns in communication that occur with such distance. There was a time in my life when any of my friends in any sort of emotional pain could count on me to show up at their bedside and hold them while they cried, until they fell asleep. Now, usually the most I can manage is listening to people bitch over the phone, while I either offer responses that I know won't really make them feel better, or just keep silent, knowing there's nothing I can do. And knowing there's nothing I can do bothers the hell out of me. It's in my nature to offer comfort, and knowing that most of the time what I offer sucks is really starting to get to me.
Tangent to the "therapist" side of japlin, is the plain lonely side. Most of my really good friends are here in Orlando; I don't have many permanent ties in Gainesville, despite being there for nine months. However, in Gainesville, most of my (female) friends and I were all comfortable enough with each other that we never had to sleep alone if we didn't want to, and I miss having that sense of closeness to someone at night (not a sexual or romantic closeness). It's the being alone at night that makes it easy for me to think about how horribly screwed up some aspects of my life are; those of you who have done this for any stretch of nights know how bad it can get.
So far, I've mostly been ignoring these feelings, having a great time with Billy and Suzanne and Kate during the day, and distracting myself with movies and the internet until I pass out at night. Obviously, part of me isn't happy with this, and felt the need to highlight some frustrating circumstances. Though I suppose this was a good thing, because over the course of writing this entry, I've come to be a little more at peace with myself, at least for awhile.
And now I'm kind of at a loss for words, so I'm going to head for the shower. A hot shower and a day with Billy and Sue sounds wonderful right about now.
~japlin