Bad dreams
The past two weeks were rough going. Every time I was alone I got depressed. Solitude, which I usually need for rest and regeneration, has been intractable.
Also unusual, I've been having nightmares.
One involved a clone of myself whom I had accidentally killed. I used black magic to resurrect him, which brought a stressed, electric whining sound I used to get in bad dreams as a child. I proceeded to tie my clone up and use sex toys on him. This was how he had died in the first place. The dream took place near a tropical beach, under palm trees, in a warren of sandy, underground tunnels. Some of my relatives were nearby.
Yesterday morning I was preparing to go on trial for physically assualting someone who had tried to gay-bash me and kidnap my children. A lawyer was helping me concoct a self-defense testimony, but the events had happened years ago and I couldn't remember clearly.
On waking I remembered I have only hit one person once in my life, when I was 10 or 11 years old. I stopped spanking Marian and Brenna shortly after leaving the fundamentalist church, when they were four and two. Despite this, it took several hours for me to shake the shame and horror from a false memory of beating someone up, and the irrational fear that I was in trouble.
Last night I played Civilization III until 4:45 a.m. Under the circumstances (depression and anxiety), it was a foolish thing to do. I went to bed and set the alarm for 9:15 so I could meet a study buddy at 10:30.
Stupid or not, it seems to have hit a reset button. Today I am optimistic and energetic. I'm wrapping up a productive writing session at the library. Here's hoping it sticks.
