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juushikaNew winner for worst dream ever: A passive-aggressive fight with boy's brother, followed by an all-out screaming match with boy's family about how I was a waste of space and a leech and didn't deserve to live here, and then I went back to school. It's like a fucking checklist of my big fears, realized in one convenient package!
The thing was, it wasn't that traumatizing. Perhaps it's because it wasn't my last dream (which I don't even remember now), and so it wasn't the heart-pounding start to a new day. Perhaps because it was so fucking over the top, I'd say, except that I have dreams where all I go on endless looping cruises for the rest of my life—it can be ridiculous and in the dream I know it's ridiculous, but it's still an effective nightmare.
Again: Post about great life changes, follow it up with something bad. I spent Monday and Tuesday after the Portland trip as a barely functional human being, a grumpy tired lump; now I'm having horrid dreams. Bless you all for putting up with both extremes, and for writing wonderful comments that I never reply to because by the time I receive them, I've reached the other side and no longer have anything to say about where I was.
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cerulean_chains wrote:
and while I never replied to that either I think she's right, of course. I am not good at happy. I am better at it now that I used to be, but it is not one of my natural aptitudes; my brain looks at happy and goes "awesome!" and then follows it with "christ fuck get it away what is this thing we're all doing to diiiiiie." Even if I get passed that contradictory reaction, going out and being social will always for me be wonderful and wholly exhausting—that's what introversion is, that's what anxiety piles on.
So this is totally natural. It's a pain in my ass and I won't pretend to be happy about it, but it's natural. I'll spend a few days slumped over and miserable, and then I'll go back to keeping my whiny little brain a little bit scared.
The thing was, it wasn't that traumatizing. Perhaps it's because it wasn't my last dream (which I don't even remember now), and so it wasn't the heart-pounding start to a new day. Perhaps because it was so fucking over the top, I'd say, except that I have dreams where all I go on endless looping cruises for the rest of my life—it can be ridiculous and in the dream I know it's ridiculous, but it's still an effective nightmare.
Again: Post about great life changes, follow it up with something bad. I spent Monday and Tuesday after the Portland trip as a barely functional human being, a grumpy tired lump; now I'm having horrid dreams. Bless you all for putting up with both extremes, and for writing wonderful comments that I never reply to because by the time I receive them, I've reached the other side and no longer have anything to say about where I was.
cerulean_chains wrote:It's actually perfectly natural for one to breakdown while on the verge of breakthrough. The mind resists change, and when it senses massive heaps of it on the horizon, it tends to attempt to sabotage and keep one "the same" and "safe." Although unpleasant, such temporary backsliding can in fact herald the true realization of change, because it means that the threshold is close enough for our old habits to feel threatened.
and while I never replied to that either I think she's right, of course. I am not good at happy. I am better at it now that I used to be, but it is not one of my natural aptitudes; my brain looks at happy and goes "awesome!" and then follows it with "christ fuck get it away what is this thing we're all doing to diiiiiie." Even if I get passed that contradictory reaction, going out and being social will always for me be wonderful and wholly exhausting—that's what introversion is, that's what anxiety piles on.
So this is totally natural. It's a pain in my ass and I won't pretend to be happy about it, but it's natural. I'll spend a few days slumped over and miserable, and then I'll go back to keeping my whiny little brain a little bit scared.
