“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-

My 10-Hour Psych-Eval or: How I Learned To Stop Worrying And Accept I’m A Mental Headcase

Good Morning, My Peeps.

What’s New In The Clean World, As They Say?!

Yeah.

Sounds About Right To Me.

So…

…As The Title Of This Piece Suggests…

…Or States…

…Or Whatever…

…I Spent 10-HOURS Of My Monday Sitting In An Office…

…Answering Question After Question…

…With Each Answer Spawning More Questions…

…And More Questions…

…And More Answers…

…And Yet More Questions…

…And On And On And On.

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We Talked About The Hot, Horrid Mess That Was My Childhood…

…Focusing Mainly On Traumatic Experiences That Have (likely) Shaped The Man I Am Today.

We Talked About My Inability To Conform.

My Struggles To “Fit-In” Anywhere.

The Friends I’ve Made.

Why I Made Those Few Friends In The First Place.

The Friends I’ve Lost.

Why I Lost Said Friends.

We Talked About My Plans For The Future…

…Or If I Honestly Had Any Real Plans For Any Type Of Future…

…And On…

…And On…

…And On And On And On.

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We Talked About My Time In The Navy.

The Good Things About It.

The Horrid Things About It.

Why I Was Discharged Early.

How I Felt About That.

How That (likely) Did Shape The Man I Am.

My Sleep/Insomnia Issues.

The Eval, Honestly, Seemed To Drag On…

…And On…

…And On And On…

…More Questions…

…More Answers…

…Begat More Questions…

…Begat More Answers.

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Honestly, My Peeps…

…I’ve Never Felt More Internally Exposed.

My Life History…

…Broken Down Before Me…

…Into 10-HOURS Of Q&A.

It Was, By FAR, The Most Comprehensive Mental Evaluation Of My 30’ish-Year Existence.

When It Was Finally Over…

…I Was So Drained I Could Hardly Stand-Up.

Lucky For Me…

…The Eval Took Place About 10-Blocks Away From My Home.

I Felt Sick.

I Was Nauseated.

I Had A Headache Direct From Hell’s Half-Acre.

I Felt Torn-Open…

…All Of My Guarded Skeletons Now Released Out Into The World…

…And Now A Part Of Record.

You Can’t Sincerely Know How It Felt Until You’ve Done It.

You Simply Can’t, My Peeps.

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It Was Grueling.

It Was Embarrassing.

It Was Humiliating.

It Was Irritating.

It Was Exhausting.

It Was Enraging.

It Was Draining.

It Was Helpful.

It Was (HOPEFULLY) Worth It.

๐Ÿ˜

It Really Was The Most Difficult Q&A Session Of My Life.

Half-Way Into It…

…You Can Easily Imagine…

…I Was Ready To Get-Up And Leave And Just Go Home.

She Pulled Things Out Of Me…

(Mentally And Emotionally Speaking)

…I’d Been Repressing Most Of My Life.

She Got Me To Admit I’d Been Molested By A Former Neighbor.

She Got Me To Admit I’d Suffered Multiple Concussions From Major Head-Traumas.

She Got Me To Admit My Lack Of True Emotions In Some Cases…

…And Truly Overt Emotions In Others.

She Got Me To Talk About How I Used To Get Into Fights With My Peers In School…

…And How People Started Leaving Me Alone Because I Was Too Unpredictable.

She Got Me To, As I’ve Said, ย Talk About Why I Was Discharged Early From The Navy…

…And How I Was Hazed/Bullied/Pressured Into Signing My Name To The Confession I Was Prompted To Draft At The Time.

She Got Me To Admit How I Felt When I Was Sent To The Brig…

…Placed In Solitary Confinement…

…And Put On Rations Of Bread And Water For THREE (3) Days.

She Got Me To Actually Talk About My Auditory-Hallucinations.

My Extreme Paranoia.

My Lack Of Sympathy And Empathy Toward Others.

The Woman Was Very Good At Her Job.

In The End…

…However…

…In Handing Down Her Diagnosis…

…She Told Me Nothing I Didn’t Really Already Know.

A.D.H.D.

Depression.

Schizophrenia.

Personality Disorder.

Underlying, Unresolved Trauma.

Sociopathic Tendencies.

ย All Things I Could Have Just Told Her When I Walked Into Her Office.

BUT…

…Her Job Was To Confirm The Diagnosis Of Other Doctors…

…AND To Make Her Own Diagnosis.

And Boy OH Boy Was Sheย Thorough.

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Needless To Say…

…I’m Just Glad It’s Over.

I Was Honestly Hoping Beyond Hope I’d Sleep Better Tonight.

As You Can Easily See…

…That Didn’t Happen.

Another Night Of Around 3’ish Hours Of Actual Sleep.

BUT…

…That’s Why I’m Writing To Y’all Right Now.

I Figured MAYBE If I Got All Of This Out Into The Open, My Mind Would Calm-Down…

…Relax…

…And Possibly Allow Me To Get Back To Sleep.

Is This Helping Me Relax?

Yes.

Some.

Do I Feel As Though I Could Get Back To Sleep?

No.

Not Really.

Am I Glad I’m Sharing This With You?

Yes.

Somewhat.

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Why Just “Somewhat”???

Because One Never Knows How Others Will React To Hearing Certain Things…

…And I Don’t Want Y’all, My Peeps, To Be Uncomfortable With What I’m Saying.

This Really Was Something I Sincerely Wanted To Get Off Of My Chest…

…So Perhaps I’m A Touch More Than “Somewhat” Glad I’m Sharing This With Y’all.

You Cats And Kittens Are Okay By Me…

…And I Wanted To Try (potentially) Connecting With Y’all A Bit More.

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Am I A Mental Headcase?

Yes.

Is That Now A “Fact” Of Record?

Yes.

Am I Going To Let It Affect What I Do Here?

Hopefully Not.

Do I Love Being Able To Talk With Y’all?

More Than You’d Believe.

Are My Eyes A Touch Weepy, And Do I Need To Shut-Up For The Moment?

Yes AND Yes.

Am I Willing To Answer Some Questions From Y’all?

Sure…

…Some.

Will I Be As Open And Honest With Y’all As I Was With Her?

I Don’t Know.

Is This A Good Place To End This?

Yeah…

…I Think So.

L8r L8r, My Peeps.

And Thank You Again For Listening Reading.

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