Dreams/Reality

I don’t like night time. Just putting that out there.


I don’t like staying in other people’s houses because I find it impossible to promise myself to behave “normally” during the night.

I don’t sleep. Instead I pass the time by watching various DVDs; recent choices have been the Outnumbered boxset, Bridget Jones, Bend It Like Beckham and Friends series one. I’m not particularly fussed about what DVD it is (providing it’s not the Black Swan, still recovering from the last mindfuck that caused). If it passes the time, then it will do. Often I don’t watch it; I just like to have it on in the background because I find the silence too loud. The background noise stops me thinking and keeps me distracted for long enough for sleep to be possible. I do, eventually, end up falling asleep, no matter how hard I try and fight it.

Why do I fight sleep? I’m scared. I’m scared about what will go through my mind in the form of evil dreams. Recently my dreams have consisted of me grabbing blades and repeatedly slashing my legs until I have skin literally hanging off and I’m lying in a pool of my own blood. It makes me feel sick just thinking about that dream, mainly because it results in me waking up in a cold sweat, struggling to breathe and actually wanting to do that for real.

There’s an alleyway near my house. This is the setting for another one of my “favourite” dreams. I’m grabbed by Man Who I Had A Bad Experience With and shoved against the wall. It doesn’t take a genius to work out the rest of the dream and I don’t have the ability to type everything out for fear of it being real. This dream has meant that I can’t walk down the alleyway after dusk, and even in daylight I’m aware of my quickened pace and probable erratic behaviour down there. I hope to God the homeowners who overlook said alleyway never look out their windows when I walk through there.

Lately I’ve been trying the whole “Positive Mental Attitude” approach to life, PMA for short. It is often something I’ll scream on Twitter, but in real life I find this incredibly draining and nothing short of a lie. I don’t like who I have become, I am ashamed of who I am. I put that shame aside and got help, but that help has gone into limbo and I don’t know what’s happening: I’m still waiting for New Counsellor to ring me. I don’t do phones and I don’t do waiting. It’s been a week. That’s long enough thank you. I look at the “old” me and I wish that was the me now.

Ironically, “Not Gonna Get Us” just started playing on iTunes. Well I disagree, someone is going to get me and I don’t have the power to stop that.

I wish I could try and put into words what it feels like inside my head. Or draw a picture, but art isn’t my forte and I don’t know who to eloquently write what’s happening. Maybe that will be my next challenge. I don’t know.

I don’t know. I don’t know much at the moment.