I’ll save the preface for after the dream typing. That’s wrong but right now, I don’t care. I dozed a bit ago and had a lot of subconscious activity in just the two hours or so I slept. Here’s the best I can make out of it.

I don’t remember where the beginning of the dream started but I was a little girl in a large house watching tv. There was a distinct Alice in Wonderland meets Peter Pan feeling. I have the sensation that I had a sibling in the dream, a little sister or some odd little part of myself running around, getting on my nerves. I remember feeling that there was a reason to escape the room I was in watching tv and when I left the room, there was something like a large … nay HUGE HUGE banister or wooden polished slide. I’m sure at this point that there were all manner of Alice in Wonderland like characters assailing me, very scary and ominous. I went down the slide into I think some sort of puppies, cocker spaniel puppies?

I have a sensation I was looking for things and surrounded by things I wanted badly from my childhood but afraid that they weren’t really there (I think the conscious mind telling me …) because my Mom has probably gotten rid of them. Remnants of what was safe in childhood that she probably, in her usual fashion she tossed, sold or gave away to a stranger. I remember actually thinking this in the dream as if the things I wanted back were just figments of my imagination in a cruel way.

At some point I think there was some sort of long drawn out drama. I’m not sure of the details, only the tone really. As if being separated by great distance (and tv?) from someone. Looking from the outside at them. There’s lots of tv in this dream.

For some reason, a large group of family and people who aren’t family but who played familial roles in the dream were there. There was a ton of bickering, everyone in this odd living room, bickering. I was dressed nerdy or bookish with my glasses on and every one treated me as if I were simple minded, not bright. I kept to myself as they argued. Some how during this, more objects and things that reminded me of my childhood were popping up and I think they were arguing over the memories attached to the items – thinks like flashes of memories when I was very small, moving and unpacking things back home. I was wondering around, allowing them to continue without really noticing me, like I didn’t exist though they felt more like memories than I did.

At some point there was a broken commode and I had to go tell someone. They were all in the living room watching a “Twitter” game show on a big tv. They didn’t seem to want me to interrupt because celebrities were tweeting odd things but not current celebrities, like 70s rock bands. I tried to interrupt but they were ignoring me. I finally got through and all Hell seemed to break loose like “stupid Kimby, always breaking things” feeling.

Once that seemed to be in the process of being fixed. I decided to join in on the game show activities. There was a game where you had to send something each time you saw a specific user pop up. There was only one I recognized and I was button pushing on that person’s sake. There was some prize of an awful lot of money, like 22,000,000 or something. I wouldn’t mind the money myself but I was fine with this other person having it instead I think. My family seemed to want the money for themselves, hence playing.

There were some game show questions on the tv like Wheel of Fortune but I am terrible at that game so I didn’t do well at all. The person I was cheering on was doing very well, winning in fact and seemed very popular with the at home audience. This person’s face wasn’t shown but some rather personal photos.

I realized at some point that an uncle in the dream was actually “Uncle Jerr” from Twin Peaks. And another “uncle” was my friend Justin when he was much younger. Some fight seemed to break out at the end of the game show and someone dear to Jerr that I didn’t know was wheeled through the tv room (which now seemed like a sterile hospital room) and was on a stretcher being taken an ambulance. I was holding up Jerr who seemed beat up, like he was suddenly in a fight. The person wheeled through was covered over the head to suggest they were no longer alive. But I think my family was in the room with them and threw off the sheet.

Some time around this bit, I got a call on a very pretty pink cell phone from some 70s rock star I did not recognize so I offered to pass my phone along to anyone else but in accordance with the dream theme, no one was really noticing me. They were busy arguing and attending to whatever else was going on. I think that either Jerr or the guy in the stretcher won something too.

My friend then assaulted me, knocking nerdy me off a chair onto the floor when he whipped out his penis! Of course in the dream, he’s my uncle so the family was screaming and pulling him away. I crawled under a table I think and cried for a moment before lunging at him and attempting to beat the living shit out of him. I felt so much rage suddenly.

I remember after that chatting with some people from Twitter in my dream. I feel silly admitting that but it’s what I did last before sleep. I also remember a filmy female ghost but unsure who she was.

Here’s the preface: I don’t know what snapped last night/this morning. I feel awfully ashamed at having such strongly expressed emotions of sadness or stress and confusion. As “C” would say about booze (though I wasn’t drinking) that no matter how “trashed” one is, you must be accountable for your actions. She did also say last night amidst my emotional breaking down that I have a right to let it out eventually. I’ve likely been holding a lot in.

Do I have a valid right to my theories for now being completely out of sorts (lil better with sleep, even if only two hours). No probably not, because I believe in being harsh on myself. I was just raised to be that way or rather, raised by the Messianic example so I tend to be hard on myself. But I’ll postulate, because I feel so fucked up on so many levels that I feel it must have an explaination other than I’m horrible for having any emotions.

A. One, I was a horrible and irresponsible adult – I ran out of my Cymbalta for “pain managment” but really I think my neurologist gives it to me because she’s worried I’m depressed by the pain. I was, very so I guess it helps that but not the pain. It’s NASTY, BAD stuff if you miss a dose. Don’t miss a dose. Not even one.

B. Everyone knows I had a grapefruit sized fibroid tumor in my Uterus along with other issues, cysts and things. My hormones of the last several months have been screwed up with off cycles, varying lengths and sometimes wicked sadness. This month I was five days late, not too bad but I could feel my body flaring up two weeks before that so the extra week was really hurting my body and ovaries. I think it really contributed but then again …

C. Stress

D. Lack of sleep (now, that’s for sure)

E. Minor frustration

F. Anxiety, probably brought on by having a good day and fearing, irrationally that it will of course be negated by something equally horrible happening. I’m pretty anxious right now, to the point of hiding all day and potentially canceling family visit this weekend. If there’s one thing I have a hard time with, it’s anxiety. I don’t get it a lot but when I do, it’s like being crushed by a boulder.

There, my silly excuses for really erratic emotional responses breathing. And if I could have done those horrible dreams more justice, I would have. They were truly upsetting.

I’m drained from the hours of crying and then more crying just now. I’m exhausted.

– k

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