Oh, no! Not Again!!!

 

Today I am thankful for Dream Water. 

Damn it!!! 

This morning I dreamt of a certain man being chased and devoured by a big, scary male lion. 

I'm not sure if I were screaming or crying because there was no one in the house to tell me. 

That's enough.  

This is getting irritating. 

I just bought 10 packets of Dream Water. 

Prazosin helps with nightmares.  If the Dream Water doesn't work, I'll visit a my doctor. 

This could be due to my bizarre sleep schedule, too.  

I don't know. ::

All I know is that for the past 33 years, I've been self-conscious about the dreams and afraid of screaming out a certain name at night. 

If nothing helps, I'm going to just exclusively date guys with that name. 

That way, at least someone can feel like a rock star because I scream that name out all the darn time. 

Fortunately, for me, it's a very common name.  

Love ya, 

S.  

Edit: October 1  - 1:29am 

Here goes the Dream Water.  

I'll let you know. 

Edit:  October 1 - 9:47am 

So far so good. 

Then again, it's the full moon.  People like me can't sleep during the full moon.  On the bright, less sleep equates to less nightmares.  

Woo hoo? 

Edit: October 3   1:53pm 

I overslept (possibly catching up on sleep). 

Nightmares again.  Too many.....

Too disturbing.....not sure I want to re-count them. 

Maybe I'll give you the short version. 

Now, if you know me, you know I take in homeless LGBTQAA kids when my life allows.  We have a dearth of shelters for this population. 

In this dream, the star of the horror flick that is my REM world was his teenager self.  He came here with absolutely nothing. 

Now, the kids in my home get either a pre-paid debit card or their own credit card attached to mine so they can buy essentials. 

He refuses. 

I ask if there is any particular brand of toiletries, clothing or any thing that will make his life more comfortable.  He doesn't answer and goes into his room.  Another kid asks for the money meant for him. 

That dream is possibly a throw back to the gossip my ex and his Arvada buddies would tell me about what happened after I graduated.  I graduated a year early (kinda regret that now because it cost me too much).  Yeah, I could offer him numerous things but if I'm not someone he particularly likes, he's probably rather starve.  I get the sense there is too much pain there for him to interact with me.  I just don't understand the source of the pain or, if it's always been there,  or why he toughs it out once in a while to visit and  write.  

          I'm sure the dream is my subconscious minds way of telling me that if I miss the relationship,  I            can always try to get a new one.  

The scene fades. 

Now, I find myself at a university at an active shooter situation.  I'm not sure if I'm a student or a professor.  I'm going from room to room evacuating a building by sending students into the basement as the doors are thick and there are no windows. 

I'm fairly successful until I come across a room on the first floor with an open window.  There is lot of baggage cluttering the window.  Good, I remember thinking.  The shooter won't see inside but a bullet could easily fly through that open gap at the top of the window (it opened from top and the bottom).  I peer inside and shout at the guy in all those dreams that we have an active shooter. 

Shit - he has earbuds.  He can't hear me.  He can't see me.  He's blissfully unaware that this asshole dressed as a soldier is barreling down the hallway, machine gun in hand shooting into each and every doorway and window, the bullets easily making their way through the thin wood.  

I wonder what he's listening to through those headphones?  If the man in the dream can't hear the rounds fly, he's probably is listening to an awesome drum solo. 

It'll probably be the last thing he hears with those ears. 

My choice is to stay put and keep screaming or run to the next level and try to save someone else. 

I stay put. 

Damn, it's a gun-free campus.  Since I like to follow rules, guess what I don't have? 

I notice the gunman's face is exposed as he gets closer to me. It would have been an easy shot (only in my dreams, that is). 

Too late. 

This dream is probably about getting older and the grim reaper coming down and dutifully taking all of us out of the school of life.  It's also another reminder that I could always go out with someone else on a different level (despite the freaky dreams that I use as one of my many excuses to avoid dating). 

There is that component that some guys want a woman to "save" them.  I don't want to be a savior. I want to be dessert.  I want to be an extra that makes life more fun.  I want him to be the same for me. 

I really don't want anyone to try to save me.  When they do that, I owe them. 

This is possibly the real reasons for the dreams.  Way back in the day, when most of my relatives died within a three year span, I actually had suicidal ideations.  A certain young man saved my life. 

I took a lot of sleeping pills.  I still do now.  Turns out over the counter sleeping pills are Benadryl.  I'm allergic to just about everything in my world. 

          Back in the day, my handfuls of sleeping pills scared the heck out of my friend.  I have a                         memory of him grabbing the bottle and flicking them at me in a mall parking lot - one by one. 

          I'm still pondering the dreams. 

Truth is, there is really nothing that I can do except light the white candles and pray everyone gets everything they need. 

          This will pass -or- I'll eventually become so senile that I'll forget who this person in my dreams              actually is. 

Love ya, 

S. 

Here is a more fitting Duran Duran song.  I need to go out and buy a new CD on the dollar rack now.  

Maybe something new?  Rap? oooh...How about death metal?  Let's see what I find. 

Why can't I find a Stanley Clarke, Victor Wooten or Marcus Miller CD on the rack?  I guess I could go to Amazon and get a copy of SMV. The problem with Amazon is that I buy too much stuff that I don't really need.