November 16, 2011

Dream Journal: Dying Is Apparently Traumatic.

For a dream that spawned such vivid emotion, it sure did start out stupid. Anyway, here, let me tell you about it, I suppose!

I was with Essner in a mall, but it was not a normal mall. Every single “store” in the mall was actually a fancy restaurant/comedy club. There was basically every kind of food you could want. I remember a Mexican one, an Americana kind of restaurant, and a really futuristic-looking mostly bar kind of place. However, every single one had a stage, and every single one had a different comedy act performing for some reason. It was a pretty busy mall restaurant place.
I had apparently just finished up doing a performance at one of these restaurants. (Apparently I was a professional comedian. Who knew?) I had then met up with Essner for some reason I was not aware of. We were talking and walking through the mall, looking at the restaurants. Maybe we were searching for somewhere to eat?

Then, out of the shadows, someone or something jumped me. I got stabbed.

Essner and someone from a nearby restaurant pulled me off of the floor and into some sort of apartment. (Apparently there were also apartments above this mall of restaurants. The person who helped Essner carry me had some level of medical training or something, and basically just flat-out told me that this was fatal, and I wasn’t going to be alive for much longer.

This news felt incredibly real. I immediately pulled out my cell phone, and proceeded calling people and telling them I loved them. I made my mother promise to bury me in a dress and take care of Brer. I called my brother, my father, friends. I didn’t call Essner, because he was there, but I talked to him. I didn’t call Brer in the dream, because I was saving him for last and was just going to keep him on the phone until I was gone, and the dream didn’t get that far Most of these conversations had me crying.

Then I woke up, and I kept crying. I cried in bed for a long time. I texted my family to tell them I loved them, and I just let it all out. The feeling of needing to say goodbye, of not abandoning people like that… it was just overwhelming. It was really less the me dying part. That’s, you know, a thing, but I’ve been suicidal before, so it’s not very, like, odd feeling to me. I just found myself terrified that I couldn’t say goodbye to everyone, and that my dying would cause problems for everyone that I couldn’t fix. Frankly, that’s what always stopped me from trying, way back in the past.

In any case, it really shook me up. I’m fine now. I’m not going anywhere. But just… goodness. Dreams do not normally hit me like that. Or at all, really. Mm.

I had a dream once where I was shot in the stomach while in a bathroom stall. Woke up hyperventilating. Can totally relate.

Comment by Cris — November 16, 2011 @ 12:26 am

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