Tag Archives: nightmares

This Time Baby, I’ll Be Bulletproof

Posted on by
Reply

I don’t normally have nightmares; usually, when I do remember my dreams, they’re just really vivid and very strange. It’s been a really long time since the last time I had a nightmare… before this morning. To make things worse, I had two back to back, so when I woke up, I felt completely disoriented.

In the first dream, Mike and I were walking down a sidewalk together when someone shot me in the back of the head. Mike got hurt really bad trying to save me, and we both ended up spending a long time in the hospital. In real life, I probably wouldn’t have survived the shot; the bullet hit me right on my scalp line on the back of my head. Mike and I had side by side hospital beds, and he was all cut and scraped. Amazingly, we both got out of the hospital at the same time. We weren’t living together, for some reason, so we each went to our own houses.

When I got home, I was on bed rest or something like that, but was eating pizza and meatball grinders with my family — or at least, I thought I was. All of a sudden, they were telling me I had to go pick up some pizza for everyone. I tried to tell them I couldn’t go because I was supposed to be resting, but they were acting like I was just making it up. “Fine!” I said. “I’ll go!” I left the house, slammed the door, and then stuck my head back in. “But you should know I didn’t even get to eat my pizza!”

I left and tried to call Mike, but he wouldn’t answer the phone so I went to his house. He wasn’t there, and everyone else there completely ignored me. I went to my friend Sandy’s, and she started to tell me that everyone was concerned that I might have a permanent head injury, because of the crazy way I was acting.

I remember thinking, Me?! I’m acting crazy?! and then found myself in this fully furnished, abandoned house. It was pouring outside and all of the windows were wide open. I was in a diving suit and couldn’t get out of it. My mom started yelling at me, asking why I’d even put it on if I couldn’t get it off. I tried to explain to her that all scuba divers need help getting in and out of their gear, but she kept yelling at me anyway. She did help me out of it, though, by cutting the fabric so I could slip it off over my head.

The house turned out to be for sale at $99,000, and my mom was thinking about buying it but decided it was too expensive. I was in the middle of trying to persuade her to buy it anyway, because of the loft design I’d fallen in love with, when the dream changed. I still stood in the same house, but I wasn’t myself anymore. Hell, I wasn’t even a girl. I was some guy in a gang like the one in A Clockwork Orange; we did the same awful things, but wore eighties ripped jeans, tee shirts with words written on them in neon colors, and Halloween masks. We were having some kind of party where we were torturing all of the people we’d invited. My evil, male self chose a victim and then took him upstairs, with my real self screaming in my head that this was very, very wrong.

I shoved the guy down onto a bed and tied him up. “Do you have a condom?” I screamed at him. He whimpered, and said he didn’t have one. I started screaming at him, asking him how he expected me to not get some kind of STD from him. I started looking around the room for something to use. I grabbed a bottle of baby oil. My real self was freaking out, thinking, How can I do this? How can I do something like that?!

I must have realized it was a dream, because all of a sudden I was able to take control. I made my evil self actually me in disguise, and the guy on the bed was Mike and he knew that we had to pretend I was torturing him so that we could escape the crazy gangsters. We made a plan to escape, and then split up. I sneaked throughout the house, trying to slip out undetected by any of the other gang members. I got to a deck on the second floor, and was planning on climbing down by using the roof when the gang leader showed up.

I tried to explain why I wasn’t off torturing someone, and he started talking about something (I can’t remember), when Jason climbed up the roof, brandishing his machete at us. This Jason wore the same clothes we wore, but my dream self pretended to freak out and started running and slipping down the roof — which turned into a metal slide — with the gang leader calling after me. I ran straight into the woods, where I was supposed to meet Mike, and then I woke up.

Seriously, this was the most fucked up dream I have ever had. I don’t even know what to make of it.

Nightmares, gifts, goals, and Mindless Self Indulgence

Posted on by
11

I woke up this morning, hot and tired. Our AC bit the dust a couple of days ago and kind of works, so we’re only running it for a little while during the day. I also had another nightmare last night. This one was worse, because even though I wasn’t really me, in the dream my dad died. I thought it was real. At one point, I even told myself, “He’s with Popi now.” It’s really weird that I just had vivid nightmares two nights in a row; the night before I dreamed about killing some scorpion-sized centipede-like bug.

I have vivid dreams quite frequently, but it’s rare that they are nightmares. Usually they’re just really weird and I laugh about them when I wake up. The bug nightmare I laugh about now, because it’s kind of funny that a big, slimy black centipede oozing blood when I cut its head off scared me that badly. Last night’s nightmare, not so much.

This morning didn’t suck completely, though. As I was coming into the kitchen, I noticed what looked like a DS game on the table under my keys and a little piece of paper. What, did Mike play one of my games? I thought he didn’t like my games? Wait, maybe he used the case to write on that paper? Wait — is that a note?

I picked it up.

My anniversary present!

My anniversary present!

“He didn’t,” I said. We hadn’t talked about gifts or anything! I was just happy to know the date of our beginning, and hanging out last night was the best gift. Little does he know that I’m taking him out to dinner Sunday or Monday now, because I can’t not do anything for him! Especially since that note was so sweet!

Excuse me while I melt.

Anyway, it’s September. Which means summer is coming to a close, and football is so close. I’m always half and half this time of year; I’m sad to see summer go, but can’t wait to dress for game day and cheer on my Colts.

September also means it’s time for some new goals, and to look back at last month’s goals to see how I did.

My mission last month was to lose some kind of weight and to go to the gym every day. I also wanted to cut down on how much fast food I eat, but not cut it out completely, because I gave in way too quickly when I tried that route. I also apparently set a goal to write every night.

I’ve been going to the gym almost every day. I’ve only been allowing myself to skip out for good reasons. (For example: Monday I didn’t go because I pulled a muscle in my arm last week and wanted to rest it. Yesterday I only went to do the bike for twenty minutes because I was too hungry to stay any longer and didn’t want to end up getting sick. Stupid hypoglycemia. I also haven’t gone the last couple of weekends because I wasn’t in town.) I honestly love the gym and look forward to going. I’m not going tonight because I’m having dinner at Sandy’s house (for my birthday, yay), but will go tomorrow for my usual hour. I also have a session with one of their personal trainers scheduled in about a week.

I lost a little bit of weight! I managed to squeeze myself into my size seven jeans this past Thursday to go to the bar with some friends. I had to do a lot of stretching to get them to feel less skin tight and more like bootcuts, but they fit and I didn’t pass out from suffocation!

I’ve only been eating fast food twice a week! Each week, I write little goals in my notebook, and, “Eat fast food only twice this week,” is always one of them.

I haven’t been writing every night, but I did read two of three of the books about adoption I took out from the library. They’ve given me a lot of insight and I have made some notes of things I need to change in the novel. For example, my main character Gigi needs to feel more guilty about giving away her son. That guilt needs to drive her. She should also feel like she’s got a hole inside of her, and she should try to fill that hole with other things, like relationships that suck. I’m not saying that all birthmothers feel this way, but my Gigi should.

On to this month’s goals!

  • Budget income for the next month. Since I don’t have a regular paycheck anymore, I need to be super careful. I just got paid yesterday, in the nick of time; I was scraping up birthday money to buy cigarettes and gas that I’d wanted to use to buy new clothes. I’ve already started to budget, using Britt’s envelope method (minus the safe part).
  • Keep going to the gym, at least Monday-Thursday. I want to go every day, but since the gym is on the way home from where I work, it’s more likely that I’ll go on those days than any other day.
  • Write two chapters every Saturday. Since I don’t work weekends, I’m more likely to use that time to write; usually, by the time I get home on weeknights, I’m too tired to do much of anything — especially since I haven’t been sleeping too well.

To keep with the theme of this very out of control and unorganized post, I give you some MSI:

Life is killing me

Posted on by
3

Nothing about today is good. My back pain is back; I spent last night tossing and turning because not only was it in my lower back but also in my front hips. I also had a bad dream, so all in all it made for a pretty sleepless night. I dreamed I was some blond runaway and my runaway, brunette and abusive boyfriend got me knocked up. He beat me up so bad that I had a miscarriage. The dream flickered to me lying on a hospital table to me in some house where everyone was dead and I had a gun to defend myself from — I’m assuming — my abusive dream boyfriend. Talk about a vivid — and somewhat depressing — mind. I don’t dream that vividly very often, but when I do they’re usually really crazy.

Maybe I’m having more issues with what happened to me than I initially thought.

I went to the chiropractor this afternoon and then to Wal-Mart. I got some stuff to make cards with for the Letters of Love Greeting Card Challenge and stuff for my crafts class on Monday. I also got some sugar cookie mix, which was a pick-me-up — at the time.

Then I got home, and all hell broke loose. Mike and I got into a fight, Lauren and I got into a fight, and now I have no energy to get anything done that I need to get done. I have piles upon piles of things to do, and it’s so overwhelming that I don’t want to do any of it. I hung out with Nikki last night and although it was a nice break it’s just another reminder that I hardly ever get to just relax. Even when I’m hanging out with my friends or Mike, my mind is constantly racing, thinking of all the things I need to get done. I can’t relax, because I’m too busy being preoccupied with what I think I should be doing instead of having fun.

To top it off, my McAfee subscription is expired. I probably shouldn’t be online right now.