More dreams

More dreams. I'm back at my much-beloved apt at Ashtree in Charlottesville (with the old wood siding, not the new crap), but it is more like a vacation home, and all through the dream, I am running behind my friends, always trying to pack things I need to go on a trip, and they are like 'Terry come on!' and they leave me behind. And in one reiteration, I lose my backpack, which has my phone and plane tickets (to some exotic east place we are going) and wallet and everything, so I am searching and searching, then I find my wallet in my board shorts, and someone says some guy (who looked like Ross Lynch) may have kicked my pack away as a prank down by the pool, so look for it there. (confusing enough yet?). THEN I am in DC, but I don't know it at all, and trying to follow my old friend KB into the Metro (still missing my backpack) and a I get off at Dupont Circle (which looks NOTHING like the actual Dupont Circle stop, it is open and round with a big atrium and shops all down inside) and KB calls me and is why did you get off? And we keep missing each other on stops. MEANWHILE there is another plot with my husky Nanuk, who I got a sitter for, and when I go to get him she scolds me for not letting him run more, and says 'you didn't think he was a purebred, did you?' And when she brings him back, she has clipped the fur on HALF of him. Where does this s**t come from?

After being off the Lexapro and the Wellbutrin for 3 days, and all the anger I am feeling today, I am wondering if these drugs have been dulling all my emotions? I sent an email to my mother I might regret, but whatever, I got it off my chest. I'm going to stay off a few more days and see what happens. I'm not any more suicidal than I was.

Dreams

I have been having the most stramge and vivd dream lately, maybe the meds, or maybe my unusual sleeping patterns. They are interesting, extremely detailed and full of color, but unfortunately most are negative. The last was one of me taking a Photoshop class, and i was apparently not doing my homework.

High School

I'm having flashbacks to High School. Oddly enough, I was in so many activities that there were sometimes conflicts, and sometimes they got ugly. One time there were two concerts scheduled for the same night, and I had to choose. I had a bell choir concert (I loved bell choir) and also some symphonic band concert, where we were supposed to perform 'Procession of the Sardar' which involved a bassoon solo. I knew we were only doing it because my mother requested it. She was one of those psycho band boosters, made jackets for the directors and was basically stalking the head director, even though he was married. First of all, I had no desire to do a solo or be put on the spot that way, and certainly I hated being manipulated. The bell director said she could fill in, but it would not be the same, while in band there was another capable bassoonist. So, guess what I chose? Bell choir. My mother and the director were furious. Well, screw them both.

Clever

From my favorite movie, 'Another Country:'

Fowler: Are you trying to be clever or something?
Tommy Judd: I don't have to try, I am clever.

I've never felt clever. Smart sometimes, but in the circles I started to move in at a certain age, I felt like I needed to be clever. Certain people always were, while I was a step, or three, behind.

Old School

I know for a lot of people, blogging has become sort of old school, like younger people think email is ancient and slow. But I only text with a few people, and FB posts are too public, while FB messages are ignored. I also wanted to go back to part of the reason I started this, as a diary. I doubt there are any other readers left, but that's fine. This is mostly for me. But of course if you do read and want to comment, more power to you.

Still just freelancing, looking but feeling pretty adrift as far as what I really want to do. I had my dream job in my 20's writing and designing fantasy and science fiction worlds, getting published, having fans. I am still doing it, but not with the same energy I once had. My last job was certainly fun in its way, with a lot of different challenges, but working for a small design firm has its dangers as well. And then I got the double hit of basically being fired from Spin instructing because they wanted someone younger, and my friend shooting himself in the head. For someone who had already basically had a breakdown in my 20's, then major depressive episodes in my 30's and 40's, the triple whammy as you can imagine has been really hard to deal with. And I am trying drugs again, and I just don't feel like they are working. Other people seen to swear by SSRI's but they just seem to make me gain weight ( though to be fair, going from 4 spinning classes a week to one, to none, did not help my weight or my mood.)