“My Trials and Tribulations with Dreaming”

Having a bad Reality, at times, is one thing.
Having bad Dreams all night about said bad Reality???
O M F G it S U C K S.
The one place I hope to escape to…
…continues to be one more place I can’t really get to.
I really was a much happier person when I could go to sleep and it was like stepping off into the blackness of space (((because I’d be in such a deep deep sleep))).
Now, it’s like falling off of a cliff into a world of twisted and fucked half-memories.

I try to change my current Reality, in the hopes of bettering my future Reality.
But, when it comes to past Reality, I’m helpless.
We all are, I know that.
So…
…I guess I really need to learn how to change my Dreams.
Riiiiiiiiiiight?

Mkay.

Sooo…

HOW DOES ONE DO THAT???

At moments like this, I truly envy people like My Father.

He always told me he rarely, if ever, remembers his Dreams.

I remember the bulk of mine.

And mine are rarely, if ever, pleasant.

Even those with pleasant moments are often still bad Bad BAD Dreams.

It really is ALMOST enough to push a person tooooooooooooooooo far, sometimes.

Sleep is supposed to be restful, riiiiight?

You’re not supposed to feel worse when you awaken of a morning, correct??

And, YES, I’ve had sleep-studies done.

Nothing wrong with my breathing, nor anything else they could honestly measure.

I’ve talked to ((literally)) dozens of shrinks in my lifetime.

I’ve taken every medication they can think of to sling in my direction.

And, yet, here I sit.

Typing this.

Telling you, My Peeps, instead of yet another doctor that doesn’t seem to understand a goddamn thing about Me, nor My Situation.

I don’t want a lot of My Memories.

I don’t want a lot of My Reality.

But, MOST OF ALL, I don’t want to keep having these Dreams.

I accept My Memories.

I accept some of My Reality.

But, I do NOT accept that My “Dreamland” must be tainted.

I can’t accept that.

I won’t accept that.

Period.

So... Are YOU Jivin Me -questionmark-

When Remembering Turns To Dwelling Turns To Suffering…

You Know Youre Fu*ked.

At This Moment, Im Writing Just To Watch Myself Write.

Ive Slept Less Than 35Hours In The Past 10Nights COMBINED.

Im Irritable.

Im Sullen And Moody.

Ive Lost 15LBS In That 10Day Span.

I Dont Understand Why I Let Myself Get This Depressed.

I Know I Do It To Myself.

Its My Own Fault.

But, IM Not My Own Fault.

I Know That.

I Never Have Been.

I Was Created And Shaped By Events In My Life That Have Seriously Fu*ked-MeUp.

Why Cant I Shake This?

Why Does The Past Still Cling To Me Like The Stench Of Death?

It Haunts My DayToDay Existence.

I Know Why.

BECAUSE I LET IT.

Period.

MY BAD.

Its These Memories.

I Cant Handle Them As Well As Id Like To.

As Well As I SHOULD.

Its Honestly Maddening.

Its Hard.

Its So Very VERY Hard.

I Go From Day To Day Seeing No Benefit From It All.

Ive…

Sheesh

Ive Become My Own Worst Enemy.

Just As I Was Always TOLD I Would Be.

Just As I Always KNEW I Would Be.

It Happens To Us All At Some Point, Sure.

It’s Life.

Its LIVING Life.

My Moments Of Weakness And Horror Come To Me Like Flashes.

As Images.

Images A Person Should Never See.

No One.

The Thoughts Linger.

The IllFeelings They Cause Linger Longer.

Am I Having An Identity Crisis?

Whatever It Is, Its Hanging On Way Way WAY Tooo Long.

Talking To People Is Becoming More And MORE Difficult.

There Are A Couple Key People Id Love To Talk To.

They Just Dont Want To Talk To Me.

Sometimes, I Break Down And Simply MUST Talk To Someone.

Those Are The Moments When Im Feeling My Worst.

When I Know Somethings Wrong Inside, And I Need To Make An Outside Connection Before I Snap.

I Feel The Worst, Though, When I Do Have To Ask For Help.

But, At The Point I Start Talking, Im Already Scraping The Bottom Of The Barrel For The Oxygen I Need To Survive.

I Am.

It Gets Hard To Breathe.

I Start Feeling Sorry For Myself.

I Lose Personal Control.

I Become Someone Else.

Someone I Truly Am NOT.

A Whining

Crying

Sniveling

UsedToBe.

I Know I’m Only 30ishish.

Some Attempt To Push Upon Me That Im Still Far Too Young To Deal With Shit As I Do.

But, Everyones Different

Correct???

Everyones Got Their Own Stopping And Starting Point.

Their Own Breaking Point.

I Guess Mine Was Just A Bit Earlier In Life Than Some Others.

I Know I Dont Have It That Bad.

Its Not Like Someone Close To Me Has Died, Or Is Dying.

Its Simply The Past.

A Past Ive Yet To Beat.

A Past Ive Yet To Escape From.

A Past Ive Yet To Come To Terms With.

A Past Ive Yet To Let Go Of And Move On From.

And Its Destroying My Present.

I Guess Some Of This Is Normal, Right?

Thinking Of It All Has Just Brought Me Down So Much.

I Just Feel Very Alone, At Times.

But, I Do Understand That Life Could Be Much Worse.

Sadly

My Once RemarkedUpon Eyes Are Heavy, Dark, And Tired.

My Hopeful Outlook Has Turned Bleak.

Yet, Despite It All, I Survive.

MAYBE It All Has Made Me Stronger In Some Ways?

But, At What Personal Cost?

With Age And Experience Has Also Come Fear

Hate

Despair.

Where I Once Felt Love, I Now Feel Bitterness.

Where I Once Felt Alive, I Now Feel Drained.

Where I Once Cared About Life, I Now Resent It.

So Sad, Yet, So True.

It Just Pisses Me Off To No Extent.

When Wonderful Memories Become Jaded With Time.

I Swear, It Literally Makes Me Sick.

What I Wouldnt Give For A Moments Peace.

A Clear Mind.

A Quiet Mind.

I Know I Have Some Amazing Moments Stored In My BrainCase.

Ive Just Become To Bitter To See Them.

*** ***

PLEASE, My Peeps

Dont Be Alarmed By Anything Ive Said.

Its Just A Downer Moment For Me, And Im Allowing You To Experience It With Me.

I Guess I Just Wanted To Vent A Bit, As I Often Do When I Get Like This.

As Ive Said To Yall Before

…Sometimes, Its Not Just The BEST Therapy

…Its The ONLY Therapy.

Right???

RIGHT!!!

So... Are YOU Jivin Me -questionmark-