Monday, May 2, 2011

Dreaming Infidelities

Of the many changes I've observed in myself since I left school and came home, the changes in my sleep have been the most disturbing. Not the fact that I sleep regularly, wake up regularly, or sleep at all even. What bothers me is the changes to my dreams.

It used to be that I would dream wild fantasy adventures for myself and my friends - running through forests with a band of rebels intent on seizing power, working for the CIA in a Hunger Games style competition, and so on in similar fashions. Every night, I was used to these adventures. And then I started taking the tiny white pills they insisted I take every morning, and thick round pills they insisted I take every night. My dreams have changed dramatically.

Now my dreams manifest my anxieties. The things I try not to worry about in the day haunt me at night, and I've found myself waking up in fear, only to breathe a heavy sigh of relief and crash once again onto my pillows, reminding myself that dreams are only dreams. I've dreamt before of a man I love walking with me down a street, then turning and leaving me behind while I stand in my perfect, white dress - my fear of abandonment.

I dreamt last night that after a one-night-stand, I feared I was pregnant, took three pregnancy tests and went to the doctor - all the results were positive. By the end of the dream I was running from the world, intent on hiding out and dying somewhere, alone. I'm not quite sure what the fear here is, aside from the obvious.

Most chilling of all, I dream quite frequently of going back to school, and being lost in what used to be my own home. Worse, I go back and no one remembers me, not my name, not who I was, not even that I even went there. This is fueled by my anxiety over going back to school at all.

On top of all this, it seems like almost every movie I watch involves a suicide. I wish Hollywood would stop making every single one look like an easy, spur of the moment decision, though. It always involves a plan. We always have a plan.

So think about that, Hollywood, next time you make a stupid movie about desperate adolescents.

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