dreamer

june 23, 2019


i had an elaborate and vivid version of a stress dream last night, in which I eventually realized I had never submitted a big paper for a particular class, and I didn't think I would be able to graduate on time.


but more interesting is that there was a family who was killed, and their son was the teenage version of ryan doyle. so I was mourning the loss of this classmate, and staying in his deceased family's house.


the professor I hadn't turned in the paper for was my former therapist at the university. I think I was on my way to speak to him to plead my case and see if I could submit the paper last minute for partial credit, just enough for me to get a D in the class. passing.


I think people put so much extra pressure on themselves. we internalize these perceived expectations of how or what we should be, and then struggle to ever meet up to the standards we imagine we should. add to this the provocateur, the depressive brain, and it's a combination of energy draining, soul-crushing, self-sabotaging, worth-erasing dread.


the external tools of survival are not guaranteed in this life. the internal tools are threatened by our egos and our resiliency depends on a whole host of factors that, again, no one is guaranteed.


I like when people frame death as just being the person's "time" to die. and it's funny--because that does imply a level of fate.


when my dad spoke to the medium who spoke to me, he apologized because he thought he had more time. it was just his time, and he hadn't expected it to come so soon. neither did we.


but in ryan's case, he chose the time he departed.


but was it another accident? another case of the timing being off? did he disrupt the time continuum because he let a temporary emotion steal his light completely? what had happened that he concluded it was the right decision? it makes my heart ache.


so as I did dishes this morning, I meditated on ryan, what I remembered of him. it wasn't lost on me that his death was affecting me so emotionally, because i'm very aware of how I try to justify the depth of loss by reducing it to how the world carries on. how I dismiss the levels of individual pain. I know people harness that pain into active healing. I know I found comfort in the idea that ryan is at peace, and that maybe he could hear the thoughts going out to him, or feel the feelings going out to him, in whatever realm his essence exists. I thought, "he wouldn't want me to dwell on the pain." as if I know. as if I know anything about what the adult ryan thought. but it seemed clear through his social media that he remained a gentle soul. that the pain he carried was probably comparable to the desire he had for peacefulness, and he reached a point somehow he believed there was no peace left in this life.


I have a hard time knowing that it's ethical to keep people here who do not want to be here, who are never able to experience peace and joy long enough to recognize it as still being a part of their existence. who suffer constantly. it has nothing to do with the burden on us, and everything to do with their own pain. regardless of my obligation to encourage people to keep living, I do tend toward the idea of suffering being ephemeral. not ephemeral. wavelike. so if we can develop ways to persist through the more difficult times, and find ways not to concentrate solely on the pain. if we can discovery joy in the smallest things. if we can appreciate the gifts we do have, then our minds become trained to survive our internal obstacles. so much has to do with valuing ourselves. real self-love provides a stronger capacity for kindness. I love the inspirational meme that said healthy boundaries are the distance between two people so that they can love both themselves and each other properly. I love that. love isn't about excluding our own needs. it isn't about complete selfishness either.


I struggle with that sometimes. feeling too selfish. but I can't help how much maintenance I require. and things have changed to where I need to dedicate more time to myself. once I stopped letting internalized messages about worth linked to productivity (read: once I stopped thinking of myself as lazy), then I was better able to use the time I needed to myself to be productive in the ways that nurture my sense of being and allow me to persist.


during my cigarette break, I was appreciating my cats, calling them my familiars. I thought of how the medium said that my yaya sent Tina to me. she had explained that people with dementia and Alzheimer's had a foot in each plane of existence. the physical one we know consciously, and the one she referred to as "home." a place we return to when it's our time. according to that theory of dual positioning, my grandmother could have had a hand in my little Tina's journey to my house. she showed up one day. and stuck around. and eventually I brought her inside. my landlord and her friend pitched in to get Tina fixed and take care of the first vet visit. it was a very kind gesture, and I remember Nicole saying that "she chose you." I agreed.


and Magellan arrived in my life unexpectedly too. she was one of the good things that came out of carol's obsession with helping cats. i hope i never forget the way that she climbed up onto my collarbone and curled up and went to sleep. she was so relaxed on my shoulder, and i felt sure it was a relief for her to be out of the camper she had been housed in, with several other cats. she stayed in my bathroom for a period of time, until it seemed Tina would be alright sharing the living room with this baby cat. i love that i have videos of tiny Magellan running back and forth in the bathroom, playing with me, and then coming to curl up in my lap for pets. so sweet. my two sweet kitties.


i'd like a guy who fell in love with my cats, which made him fall harder for me too.


my mother was trying to get me to go to the library to check out one of the librarians there. she said he was a professor at the university. French. it didn't take long for my imagination to envision practicing my French with this guy. no idea what he looks like. no idea what his relationship with his parents is like. and there i was imagining things going very well.


my brain does that. for as much as I've fought with the habit of assuming the worst, i'm not an amateur when it comes to fantasizing about the positive possibilities. i guess I've always been good at daydreaming. and night dreaming. just a dreamer all around. but it isn't that i'm naïve to reality. just that i know about the role of the observer as well. and i don't have to accept everything as it's presented to me. and i'm in charge of the meaning i associate with different facets of "reality."


it would be nice in this moment to have human company. but it's sunday, and i just want to be home. I've stayed busy all week, including lots of engagements after and outside of work. i know i need today to recharge my brain battery. do some stretching. focus on my breathing. purge some thoughts.


it just started with the dream, and my mind has been going since. i'm processing the things that happen at work, but it's been heavy on the self-reflection lately too. and I've caught myself beginning to dabble in self-deprecation, but have been good about redirecting that self-talk and coming back to worth, and taking responsibility for my own emotions, and letting others have their own emotions without feeling responsible or guilty. it's been good. i feel like all the little lessons, the insightful conclusions or perspectives i'm accumulating through this job are very much helping me to be a better version of myself. or rather to pull out the parts of myself that are already strong and strengthen them further.


i know more pain is bound to come. i know there will be other times i am fretting and stressing about how to take care of something. but i have lots of evidence of my persistence, and my ability to adapt. and i am getting better at assertive communication, and that'll continue.


i wish i had been practicing more with bryan. but i still want to see if i can go to point park and sing by the fountain. try some busking. i don't care about the money. i just want to fill the air with my voice and share melodies with the people within earshot. spread some of my vocally transported vibes.


i think that's enough for now.

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