My Dreams

D R E A M S by tincek-marincek

I have great dreams. I write them all down, and usually it is weird to go back and reread them. Last night’s dream:

I dreamed my uncle was an anthropologist and he had anonymously received a movie. He assumed it was a sci fi film, I watched parts of it over his shoulder. Parts of the movie claimed to take place 5000 years ago. Those parts were about a dragon and his two servants, dressed in medieval suits of armor, but seemed to possess brief invisibility and telekinesis. The three seemed to be attacking a small medieval town.

Then parts of the movie claimed to take place in the present day in a city that seemed more futuristic than us. The cars hovered, the food was weird, lots of holographic screens. The buildings were shaped funny. There didn’t seem to be any animals except for cats and dogs that looked like their front and back legs were fused together, making them two legged and they seemed to get around just fine.

My uncle had received a letter with the movie asking him to authenticate the accuracy of the humans in it. Were they humans at all? My uncle thought it was a joke and throws the movie away.
So we go on a picnic, myself, my aunt and uncle, and their 3 children. We’re in the car and we drive through a tunnel but come out the other side in the city from the movie. My uncle and his family do some freaking out, but I’m fascinated.

They try to turn the car around, but the tunnel is gone.

So we try to blend in. We pull up to what looks like a McDonald’s knockoff restaurant. We’re already getting weird looks from other people because our car looks nothing like the hovering cars.

We try to order food but they want a sample first. Not knowing what to expect I offer, and they hook up a hose to my thigh and it looks like it sucks out some fat. The girl taking the “sample” tastes it, which grosses me out. She suddenly says, “Do you not know what you are?” She’s all surprised. My uncle freaks out and drives off.

So we’re trying to leave the city but it seems unending. So we pull into a gas station, and I successfully steal a couple of honey buns and some gummy candy. I open the honey buns and they sprout legs and try to run away. More freaking out, when the honey bun seems to know it wasn’t being chased turns around and runs back and practically tries to jump down my throat. We come to discover that all the food stuffs are designed to act like prey, unless you don’t chase then it forces itself on you.

Which is weird because the only animals we’ve seen were the weird cats and dogs. No birds, no bugs, no rabbits. Also everything seems vegetarian. Nothing has meat.

We get contacted by this family. They say they were like us. That their parents came through a portal and another family had helped them.

They explained as best they could how the world works. The people were not entirely human, they were part dragon.

When they tasted my leg fat, they were checking my species.

Other dreams:


July 9th 2015

I just want to point out that I typed 2014 at first. Seven months into the “new” year and I’m still trying to call it 2014. Jeez what does that say about me? However a quick search of Google and I’m not the only one, I was however trying to find out how long until you’re supposed to stop writing last year’s date.

050b577178fb1736757562f914aac1b9a90168-wmSo. Not much has happened to me as far as depression goes. I finished my IOP (intensive outpatient program) I’ve been watching the shit out of NCIS, all 11 seasons are on Netflix and I’m midway though season 3. I haven’t written or read much since devouring¬†Codependent¬†No More, I need to at least read a book or so every month.

Okay, discovered Whisper by accident, and tooling around with it, seems pretty cool until you realize that if you post anything sexual you’ll get dozens of messages asking for nudes or if you’re male or female. I suppose I’m just technologically naive. If I was more clever I’d realize that all forms of communication, even anonymous, people gonna wanna see your nudes. Sad it took me so long to realize this. Which is something I posted on Whisper and wound up in a nice conversation with someone. Lord, I’ll talk to anyone.

Speaking of talking to people, I’ve not been pushy in any of relationships, haven’t begged for attention and even mailed out some postcards to those I have addresses for. It is $0.35 to mail a postcard, I’ve somehow got all these $0.37 stamps. Might as well use em up and not to mention the 100 assorted postcards that are really weird.

Had a job interview on Monday, probably the weirdest and yet casual interview I’ve ever had. I dunno if I’ll get the job. The manager who interviewed me was not prepared at all. He had no information on me and asked me like 3 questions.

Coping with Myself

I pulled out my old journals from years ago. I’m a lousy journal keeper. I always try to keep one, but I forget to write in it, or things happen and I forget to write about them. I only found about 5 of them, and none of them are filled. My current journal probably has the most writing in it. Same with blogs, I’ll write everyday for maybe a week and then not post again for a couple months.

Anyway I was curious if I was always depressed. I don’t remember being as down as I was prior to being hospitalized except for certain moments like when my mother died, I mean that would depress anyone and depression is part of the grieving process. Well yeah I was depressed, had been for years. My journals are full of just raw emotions, most of the time I didn’t write why I was feeling depressed. They’re also full of daydreaming and fantasies. Also two journals are the internal conflict which spans a year and a half of myself dealing with crushing on two different men, I crushed on a third, but I only mentioned him once before I had stopped journaling. The oldest journal is from 2000 and it is mostly day dreaming.

I’ve journaled more since December of 2014 than I have in the past 15 years, well that is a bit of a stretch. Since becoming depressed I journal more. It is one of my coping mechanisms. Anyway I’ve been depressed for years and even just acknowledging it was for me a large step into accepting that yes I have a mental illness. I said in therapy that I should’ve been diagnosed years ago, I should’ve had a therapist for years, I’m still borderline if I need meds (yes still taking them) but looking back I’ve self medicated for over a decade. I was an optimist too, after I’d write, “I’m so depressed, I’m so tired of feeling this way,” I would almost always follow it up with, “I’ll get through this, I’ll get past this.” I wondered where that optimism went.

One of the things I’ve have to come to know even though it is so hard to accept since also being diagnosed codependent and low self esteem is I can’t control anyone except myself. This falls more in a how I want to be treated by people and it doesn’t happen that way and no matter how hard I try, it isn’t going to happen like that. I blame fiction for my unrealistic expectations of how friendship should be.

News from the Front Lines of NaNoWriMo Day 22

Find-Inspiration3I’ve been behind in words all month. This being the 4th year I’ve done this, and last year being the first year I ever lost, this is also the first year I’d been behind. Usually the words just flow out of me. Maybe it is because this is the second year I’d done NaNoWriMo alone basically. The first two years I attended all the events I could. The kick-off party, the weekly write-ins at South County and the official one in Clayton, the Thank God Its Finally Over party… Writing with people actually does help. Talking with people bouncing ideas off them, listening to what their novel is doing really helps. I think that is why I feel like I excelled at role playing, because every 3 or 4 paragraphs (pages in Isa’s instance) you got feedback in the response of their character to yours.

Well I’m still 5k words behind and I’ve had a bout of inspiration. In order to finish my novel I’m going to have to change points of view (I never work well in first person) and change the main character. I write better when writing from a man’s third person. Most of my RP characters are guys, and I’ve been told I pull them off pretty damn well. Also, the friends of mine who asked to be in my novel, prepare to be written about.