Hello, my Friends. In my long absence, I would like to wish you a Happy Halloween-Thanksgiving-Christmas-New-Year. *smile*
Things here are going pretty well. Much better than I’d been feeling in the past year.
Biggest item – I appealed to my psychiatrist to put me back on the medication that made me feel good. Her hesitation was the complication of my heart arrhythmia, but I had felt horrible, sad, depressed, and hopeless for at least a year. I wanted to take the risk. At the beginning, when I first started the meds, I found I had 5 out of 10 days when I felt more like myself. Happier, optimistic, laughing. As cliches go, it felt as though a HUGE weight had been lifted off me. I had had no idea I had been struggling so much, nor for so long. I am still chugging along on my meds and feeling good/happy/ME. Phew.
…. I was inspired/compelled/thought it best if I popped on here today, because as the title above says, I had a drink-dream last night. I don’t think I’ve had one for over a year, so its showing up really surprised me. The drink itself surprised me, but the main theme of the dream keeps my head turning over what it might be about. Here’s the dream –
I walked into a bar (classic joke set-up), went up to the counter and sat on a stool next to a man on my right. I thought for awhile and wasn’t sure whether I should or shouldn’t – knowing full-well I was sober – and then finally thought, “It will be fine,” and ordered a Summit. I actually had the thought in my dream to be proud I was from Minnesota. Silly.
The beer was delivered and I started talking to the man on my right. Meanwhile, another man to my left was trying to tell him not to talk to me because of what had happened when he brought me home one night. He claimed I had walked into the apartment and got sick all over my parents’ bed, which was right inside the door. (What? So weird. Especially weird because I was remembering it as he spoke.). I was embarrassed by my past drinking behavior, but shrugged it off and took a sip of my beer.
Sitting at the bottom of the pint glass were 3 long sewing pins and a needle. (I’ve been doing a lot of sewing lately.) I had the thought that if I’d drank them, my intestine would be perforated and I would die. As I fished out 2 of the pins, I said to the man on my right, “People can be horribly cruel.” I figured the man on my left had slipped the pins and needle in when I wasn’t looking. The man on my right seemed to be somewhat okay with me still being there, so I turned to the room and asked to bum a cigarette.
A woman handed me one just as she was about to light it herself (clearly smoking was allowed indoors in this dream world). I lit the cig, and smoked it in about 3 puffs. I had the thought that I was being ‘bad,’ because of the beer and the cig.
And then I woke-up.
Not epic. Not even zany. The subject matter of cruelty is what really sticks with me upon waking. Curious about it and why it showed up the way it did.
At any rate, I’m not really disturbed the drinking bit. It was a dream. The needle and pins were a little creepy. The man to my left was a little scary. The quick passing of time with the cigarette was disconcerting. It almost felt like the beer was my subconscious reminder that it was a dream, because I just don’t drink any longer.
So? That’s good. I’ll have to ponder on the other elements for awhile longer. Again, hm.
Alright, well, that is all for now. The babies are good. The hubs is good. I’m good. Starting a new show. Still teaching, and now with the med fix, remembering how much I like teaching on a mostly daily basis. *smile*
I hope you’re all well and wonderful. I will see you again in 6 to 9 months. Maybe a year. *smile*
Day 1,341. Heya. *smile*
p.s. Here’s a cute little pic with cute sewing notions to try and cancel out the sinister image from my dream.
p.p.s. I’ve been trying to turn my mind back to my original Word o’ the Year from long ago (4 years ago), because I really was good to myself for that year in ways I haven’t been and am usually not. So I am re-embracing the word ‘Kindness,’ and just trying to remember to be kind to myself. It’s a good little goal, I think. I hope you’re all being good to yourselves.
p.p.p.s. Love. *smile*