Lament of the Mind

I had one of my hyperrealistic dreams last night. It was so strong that it’s still bothering me tonight, a day later.

I can’t talk about the subject matter in the dream. It’s far too personal, especially for a blog that’s viewable publicly, but it has a lot to do with my dysmorphic issues that I talked about in my last post. The dream was very, very enlightening though. So very realistic, so very…haunting. Like experiencing something you’d been told about your entire life. It was terrifying, it was enthralling, it was stressful… and it was brilliant.

That entire dream was like being home, like being exactly where I was supposed to be. I’d never, ever been that comfortable before in my life. Everything felt right and natural and good and… I didn’t want to leave it. At a point, I think I figured out that it was a dream… and I just kept going with it. I couldn’t let it end, I couldn’t. I hung on for as long as I possibly could, grasping at it with everything I had. Waking up was like being stabbed, dying, bleeding to death slowly. I didn’t want to leave the bed…in fact, I -didn’t- leave the bed for over an hour afterward. I couldn’t bare to. My feet barely held my own weight when I got up. I just couldn’t go on…but I did.

I want nothing more than to go back to that dream world. I want nothing more than to be that person again. It might happen in my dreams, I might go back to that… but it will never happen in person. It can’t. It’s literally and totally impossible and that’s depressing as fuck.

I need a drink.