I flew outta my bed this morning. Literally. I was having a nightmare in which I was not only lost, but getting squeezed into tight places that scared the shit outta me. That's how I "flew" outta bed. I was crawling in a maze of pipes in which it became more and more difficult to keep going. In the nightmare, I was fighting against this, and then suddenly I had thrown the covers off and was standing beside my bed trembling.
Some version of this nightmare has been going on for some time now. Last night it happened twice. I dreamed during the REM period going into a sleep cycle the first time (hypnogogic dreams), and during the REM period coming out of a sleep cycle (hypnopompic dreams). I'm beginning to understand why old folk don't sleep so good or avoid going to bed altogether. I'm writing about some terrifying stuff.
This probably has something to do with my bowel movements which have been horrific for a while. It may have something to do with anality and the fear of death. I'm hoping I've solved that problem by not eating that yogurt that's supposed to help me be regular. It was doing too good a job. My diet is just lousy, and I'm not helping by having a lackadaisical attitude toward it.
I bought some fresh Bing cherries at the grocery store recently. It made me feel like fresh fruit and vegetables might be the right way to go. The prescription medicine I've been taking has the side-effect of nausea. It's not a joke. I take eight pills all at the same time one day a week. The nausea is present 24/7. I don't have to stop what I'm doing to look for it to see if it's there. It's there.
I also take prescription dosages of ibuprofen and naproxen. I gotta eat something to do that. I'm overeating and blaming it on the nausea. I tell myself food will help me cope with the nausea, but it doesn't really, so I'm thinking about eating just enough to take the drugs. I don't know if this is gonna work, because the Methotrexate makes me feel emotion even about decisions involving my diet.
I've listened to some of my conversations with myself in which I've poised the question of whether it's better to deal with the pain than with the nausea. That argument don't last long. The pain is very debilitating and accumulative in the way it gets to be depressing. It got to where I couldn't shift my weight without going into spasms of pain. Nobody wants that.
The nausea also produces deep emotional feelings I have to deal with. I can think of stuff that happened half a lifetime ago and get all worked up about whether I did right by somebody or not. I thought when i was young that I would eventually level out and start being less selfish, but it hasn't worked out that way. The mojos and lingoes I place before the world required a great deal of focus and concentration, and that focus and concentration can't happen unless I abandon the world to it's just desserts. Oddly enow, sometimes I just don't trust the world to be itself without my assistance, and as long as I'm still upsurging into consciousness, I don't believe it can. It takes a village to raise a child.
I do not attempt to tell the God's own truth here because I don't know what the truth is or hardly ever. I try to capture the drifting thoughts that randomly appear in my imagination for reasons I may not understand. I don't know if the content I capture with these words is true or false. The Comments settings are turned off to prevent me from having to defend what amounts to little more than fanciful, sometime crude speculation. Great moments in our lives never return.
