my thoughts are fractured.
fragmented. fraction-ed. fraying. frail.
just got off the phone with my sister. talking to family usually makes me feel really lonely. too much space full of things i want to say. unsaid things they'd be bored to hear about.
bad dreams still going strong. you would think i'd strive to stay up, try to avoid sleep, try not to dream and avoid Freddy Krueger.
but, no.
when i start to get more sleep-disordered, when dreams get bright-vivid-intense, i want to sleep even though the dreams are bad 99% of the time. because that other 1% is so much better than real life.
yeah, yeah, i know, that's stupid and bad. blah blah blah.
it's probably like a drug addiction. i've taken plenty of prescription drugs, but i've never done coke, heroin, lds, mushrooms, or anything like that. so arguably i'm not qualified to say. i've never taken any drug that makes me feel bliss or love or happiness.
but asleep? i have felt several emotions, pretty much all the good ones, when I was asleep, and i've never felt these emotions in real life. at least, not with the same intensity. it's one of the reasons i don't believe i'm "in love" with Garret.
of course, i love and care about Garret. you can't be around someone for years and not care about them. but it's very difficult to make sense of emotions and feelings when all of waking life is this flat, gray, tasteless dust. and love is this flat, gray, tasteless concept. but then, a handful of times, when i was sleeping, it wasn't like that at all. everything was this wet, red, vivid, plush. and Love was this wet, red, vivid scream. and even though it wasn't REAL, i still have the knowledge and the memory of the feeling. and it's hard to exist in a gray reality when you have memories like that.
i've always wished i could just sleep/dream all the time but have control of it. get really good at lucid dreaming.
sometimes i lose track of which way i'm fighting...
like, one day i might think that i should work on fixing my messed up sleep cycles. and being a bright, shiny eyed citizen of reality is the goal.
but then other days, i think-- what the hell am i trying to do that for? what's so great about living in reality? i don't particularly care if something is REAL, i care that it sucks. and i'd rather feel amazing and be able to fly even if that's "fake."
Gamma, Beta, Alpha, Theta, Delta...
I'm not really sure where to even try to correct it.
Gamma has to do with language and memory processing. Beta is wide awake. Alpha is awake but relaxed and not processing much. Theta is light sleep. Delta is deep dreamless sleep, resetting of internal clocks.
I'd guess I'm never in Delta. Theta is where you dream, so I know I'm in that one a lot.
Here's where I'm curious... if I stay up and don't get much sleep at all... sleep deprived and starting to hallucinate- what would that be? When I do that, it feels like I'm asleep, and the hallucinating part is kinda like dreaming, so can you be in Theta when you are technically awake and walking around?
Regardless. I think I'm a dream addict. Chasing a good trip despite all the bad ones.
9/28/13
Relationship nightmares
Why can't I have reoccurring GOOD dreams?? Does that happen to anyone? It should.
I'm still having bad dreams about my ex.
I don't want him in my head. But he won't get out.
I really do not want to dwell on all the stupid unhappy crap in my life over and over again. But what am I supposed to do when I keep dreaming about the same things??? I can't control my dreams. My dreams are forcing me to dwell.
Dream 1: I'm half-asleep, lying in bed and I can feel that someone is in the room. The guy presses down on my shoulder, shoves me into the mattress/pillow. Like he's going to attack me worse, but he's just getting warmed up. I try to escape, plan to fight back. But I can't see. I turn the light on but it goes dim and then I run through the house and to another light and then into the bathroom and I turn the water on and I splash water on my face and I can feel my eyelids opening and closing with my fingertips, but I can't see. I start to panic about being blind, and I wake up for real.
Dream 2: Mike's there. He has family- I'm not sure who all is there, but sense of people, his kid, his wife/girlfriend who is wearing this weird monochromatic pink dress- it's unflattering but shows off that she's pregnant. I'm alone with no family. Garret isn't there either but I think I'm talking about him. I'm on a phone with lots of long silences. I'm wandering around a parking lot and knocking little chunks of bark off of trees and then I'm sitting in a living room having to listen to Mike talk. Everything is uncomfortable but polite. I want to leave but I'm not sure where to go. Ryan and Washington are a mixed in peripheral dream, but Ryan's distracted and can't talk to me either.
I figured out a long time ago that dreams about my ex aren't actually about my ex. But that doesn't actually help. It might be simpler if they were.
Dreams about an ex are often about a current relationship. Whenever I have a bad dream about Mike, which is often, I always feel like it's a sign that I should get out of my relationship with Garret.
But then I never do, because I logically list all the really good things about Garret and why it would be really stupid of me to leave him, especially over a dream. So I stay. And then I keep having nightmares. And then I go through the whole cycle of doubt all over again.
Obviously, I'm jealous of Mike's family. I'm not very close with my family. Garret doesn't have any siblings and we don't have any kids. I'm sure that if I had a loving and supportive family, more than just Garret, like, a whole handful of people or something, then I probably wouldn't have nightmares. But I don't. All I have is Garret. And Garret is gone 99% of the time, so I don't even really have him.
I don't know. I feel like there is no point in continuing to rehash it all, so I really do try not to think about it, but my dreams won't let me have peace. So then, I feel like maybe there is something I need to rehash because why do I have to keep fixating on things I'm unhappy about?
The blind dream has me very upset because dreaming that you are blind is supposed to mean something along the lines of refusing to see the truth or not being able to see something clearly.
So that is not assuaging my paranoia.
I'm still having bad dreams about my ex.
I don't want him in my head. But he won't get out.
I really do not want to dwell on all the stupid unhappy crap in my life over and over again. But what am I supposed to do when I keep dreaming about the same things??? I can't control my dreams. My dreams are forcing me to dwell.
Dream 1: I'm half-asleep, lying in bed and I can feel that someone is in the room. The guy presses down on my shoulder, shoves me into the mattress/pillow. Like he's going to attack me worse, but he's just getting warmed up. I try to escape, plan to fight back. But I can't see. I turn the light on but it goes dim and then I run through the house and to another light and then into the bathroom and I turn the water on and I splash water on my face and I can feel my eyelids opening and closing with my fingertips, but I can't see. I start to panic about being blind, and I wake up for real.
Dream 2: Mike's there. He has family- I'm not sure who all is there, but sense of people, his kid, his wife/girlfriend who is wearing this weird monochromatic pink dress- it's unflattering but shows off that she's pregnant. I'm alone with no family. Garret isn't there either but I think I'm talking about him. I'm on a phone with lots of long silences. I'm wandering around a parking lot and knocking little chunks of bark off of trees and then I'm sitting in a living room having to listen to Mike talk. Everything is uncomfortable but polite. I want to leave but I'm not sure where to go. Ryan and Washington are a mixed in peripheral dream, but Ryan's distracted and can't talk to me either.
I figured out a long time ago that dreams about my ex aren't actually about my ex. But that doesn't actually help. It might be simpler if they were.
Dreams about an ex are often about a current relationship. Whenever I have a bad dream about Mike, which is often, I always feel like it's a sign that I should get out of my relationship with Garret.
But then I never do, because I logically list all the really good things about Garret and why it would be really stupid of me to leave him, especially over a dream. So I stay. And then I keep having nightmares. And then I go through the whole cycle of doubt all over again.
Obviously, I'm jealous of Mike's family. I'm not very close with my family. Garret doesn't have any siblings and we don't have any kids. I'm sure that if I had a loving and supportive family, more than just Garret, like, a whole handful of people or something, then I probably wouldn't have nightmares. But I don't. All I have is Garret. And Garret is gone 99% of the time, so I don't even really have him.
I don't know. I feel like there is no point in continuing to rehash it all, so I really do try not to think about it, but my dreams won't let me have peace. So then, I feel like maybe there is something I need to rehash because why do I have to keep fixating on things I'm unhappy about?
The blind dream has me very upset because dreaming that you are blind is supposed to mean something along the lines of refusing to see the truth or not being able to see something clearly.
So that is not assuaging my paranoia.
9/17/13
Aspie self vs. Bipolar self
I feel catatonic.
Catatonic. Cat tonic. A tonic for cats. A lap cat as a tonic. Distractable. Retractable.
Obviously I know I'm not actually catatonic. I'm not a complete idiot. Regardless. I still want to say I feel catatonic.
I feel catatonic.
Non verbal. Non verbal like my mouth is too slow and stupid to react in real time. Voiceless but not without words in my head. Non verbal like that. Slow. Surreal. Out of sync because I'm functioning slower than reality. Plodding zombie shuffle. Expressionless face. Am I here? Am I here?
There is depression that can be tampered with, forced, made to snap back like a hassled dog. And then there is the blank kind, the below suicidal kind, the nothingness and nothing to reason with kind. Everything numb and hard to reach. Expressionless face. Am I here? Am I here?
Been awake nights. I watched the first two seasons of Homeland on demand. Claire Danes does a pretty good job of acting like a bipolar chick. I don't really think a lot about being bipolar. I relate to the Asperger's label so much more. Sure, I was OFFICIALLY DIAGNOSED as bipolar long before I discovered Asperger's, (Aspie's get way hung up on being diagnosed officially, so I like to specify. And also mock the officialness with caps lock.) but I never really took to that label.
I guess because, at the time, the doctors admitted that I was not just bipolar and that there was some other thing about me that they couldn't quite put their finger on. And I knew that was right. And I pretty much thought they were idiots. And then when I found Asperger's I was all like-- THAT'S IT!!! And so then I just took off identifying and learning about that since that was ME and I continued to ignore the whole bipolar thing.
Plus, I tried several mood stabilizers which did nothing to stabilize my mood, so I felt like- how can I be bipolar if zero drugs for bipolar affect me? Plus, I'd known a few other bipolar people, and I didn't really relate to them, so the bipolar part of myself seemed to be either mislabeled or unimportant.
But then I watched Claire Danes flip out over a green pen and go crazy with highlighters and try to explain to her boss that things were "high purple". So, if that is bipolar behavior, well, I totally do that. And it's embarrassing. But mostly, it's just really sad. Because the thing is, my brain DOES work and IS super smart when I have episodes like that. But I sound like an idiot, because I always feel like the people around me can see and understand what I'm talking about when I have epiphanies. But, no, they are not following. I'm always playing by myself.
Anyway, I'm sitting here all catatonic-depressed. And I think I want to snap myself out of it. I dragged myself to the library and I tried to listen to music to kickstart my brain, make it circulate, distract it into another direction-- but I think maybe I force myself to stay depressed so much because being more happy/manic is worse. More isolating.
Because I CAN force myself to slide that way. I can tip the scales but I can't stop the inertia. I can force everything to slur and rush like laughter, but the problem is that it hurts a lot more to be unloved and rejected and misunderstood in that state. It's silly and happy but it's also super vulnerable. And I don't have a mediating speed. It's either full throttle or full stop. So I think I want to be full throttle all the time, I want to be creative all the time, and fast all the time, and not care. But... I do care. And that's the problem.
I don't need everyone to love me. But I do need a few people to love me. And I do have Garret, which is more than I probably deserve. But I guess I'm greedy.
I write things when I'm feeling stuck and depressed to try and get my brain moving. I guess I don't really have a point to this post other than that. So, in conclusion, cats are awesome.
Catatonic. Cat tonic. A tonic for cats. A lap cat as a tonic. Distractable. Retractable.
Obviously I know I'm not actually catatonic. I'm not a complete idiot. Regardless. I still want to say I feel catatonic.
I feel catatonic.
Non verbal. Non verbal like my mouth is too slow and stupid to react in real time. Voiceless but not without words in my head. Non verbal like that. Slow. Surreal. Out of sync because I'm functioning slower than reality. Plodding zombie shuffle. Expressionless face. Am I here? Am I here?
There is depression that can be tampered with, forced, made to snap back like a hassled dog. And then there is the blank kind, the below suicidal kind, the nothingness and nothing to reason with kind. Everything numb and hard to reach. Expressionless face. Am I here? Am I here?
Been awake nights. I watched the first two seasons of Homeland on demand. Claire Danes does a pretty good job of acting like a bipolar chick. I don't really think a lot about being bipolar. I relate to the Asperger's label so much more. Sure, I was OFFICIALLY DIAGNOSED as bipolar long before I discovered Asperger's, (Aspie's get way hung up on being diagnosed officially, so I like to specify. And also mock the officialness with caps lock.) but I never really took to that label.
I guess because, at the time, the doctors admitted that I was not just bipolar and that there was some other thing about me that they couldn't quite put their finger on. And I knew that was right. And I pretty much thought they were idiots. And then when I found Asperger's I was all like-- THAT'S IT!!! And so then I just took off identifying and learning about that since that was ME and I continued to ignore the whole bipolar thing.
Plus, I tried several mood stabilizers which did nothing to stabilize my mood, so I felt like- how can I be bipolar if zero drugs for bipolar affect me? Plus, I'd known a few other bipolar people, and I didn't really relate to them, so the bipolar part of myself seemed to be either mislabeled or unimportant.
But then I watched Claire Danes flip out over a green pen and go crazy with highlighters and try to explain to her boss that things were "high purple". So, if that is bipolar behavior, well, I totally do that. And it's embarrassing. But mostly, it's just really sad. Because the thing is, my brain DOES work and IS super smart when I have episodes like that. But I sound like an idiot, because I always feel like the people around me can see and understand what I'm talking about when I have epiphanies. But, no, they are not following. I'm always playing by myself.
Anyway, I'm sitting here all catatonic-depressed. And I think I want to snap myself out of it. I dragged myself to the library and I tried to listen to music to kickstart my brain, make it circulate, distract it into another direction-- but I think maybe I force myself to stay depressed so much because being more happy/manic is worse. More isolating.
Because I CAN force myself to slide that way. I can tip the scales but I can't stop the inertia. I can force everything to slur and rush like laughter, but the problem is that it hurts a lot more to be unloved and rejected and misunderstood in that state. It's silly and happy but it's also super vulnerable. And I don't have a mediating speed. It's either full throttle or full stop. So I think I want to be full throttle all the time, I want to be creative all the time, and fast all the time, and not care. But... I do care. And that's the problem.
I don't need everyone to love me. But I do need a few people to love me. And I do have Garret, which is more than I probably deserve. But I guess I'm greedy.
I write things when I'm feeling stuck and depressed to try and get my brain moving. I guess I don't really have a point to this post other than that. So, in conclusion, cats are awesome.
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