LustingforNightmares

tumbleweed
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2017-02-25 16:43:46 (UTC)

Relationship Angst??? And dreams, yo


"Big Baby" by Joey Wright

February 25, 2017 Saturday 4:43 PM


I hate how stupid I am. Like, I know I'm just "pushing him away."

I know this because my thoughts are like:

1. This whole thing is stupid and should not exist
2. You keep freaking out over nothing, self
3. You're making him sad and upset and he keeps trying to fix himself even though it's not him
4. You're going to keep making him sad and upset. Generally you will keep disappointing him and is that someone's fault? Doesn't matter, right? Wait, does it?
5. This is self-preservation. You're terrified of him. Very terrified. This is brand new territory for you, and you're not liking how unfamiliar it is so you're making him deal with all you're stupid fear problems.

It's dumb. I don't know how to stop doing it, though. I can't seem to help it! I get pissed off at him over the phone, and then I get quiet, and then he asks me if there was any way he could have handled the situation better, and I say there was nothing he could have done in the first place.

I wanted to say: I am going to keep doing this to you. I'm going to keep getting quiet and generally disappointing you when I decide not to show up at your house because I spent too long thinking about how everything might go down. Even if my attention wasn't fully on the thought, it was enough to make me anxious which was enough to make me back out completely.

He just wants to understand me so that he can know what's going on. What he's doing wrong. Not that he is actually doing anything wrong. He is not. I am just super, super, super anxious!!!! About all of this!!!!!!!!! And I don't know how to say it. Besides, he can't fix it, so whyyyy?

Oh, god, I really really really really really really really really really suck. This is the worst. This isn't even a real problem, it's just a dumb gut reaction I have when I get scared of someone. I get mad at them instead, like that's reasonable. I find a way to avoid them so my imaginary scenarios may never go down as horrifically as they did in my mind. It's irrational.

It's fine. This isn't a real problem. It's fine. Not real. Fine.

I wish (and this is dumb but) he would just, y'know, get tired of it all?? And he'd be like, "Yo, Veronica, sorry but this shit is dumb as fuck and I can't deal with it anymore." Sure, I'd be hurt, but I'd understand and I'd be relieved. I'd also feel a little more fucked up than I do now, even though this is a problem many people have I'm sure.

Not a real problem! Why am I making problems? This isn't a problem!

I can't tell him I'm going to keep being like this because anxiety. He'll be like, I'll stick with you, and I'll be like, Jesus fuck no you're supposed to NOT do that. This isn't cute. This isn't couple bonding. Go the fuck away! Go the FUCK away!

And this is what I meant by 'stabilize' in a couple weeks.

Okay, wait. Okay, wait. I always get mad because people don't communicate and that's why they get in fights and shit. So all I have to do is call him, say hey dude, this is why I keep freaking out, and everything will be fine, right? Okay? Okay. I'm going to do that. Things will probably not be 100% cool, but it will be better because I will have EXPRESSED myself rather than cried into a pillow lamenting the fact that I am awfully ill-equipped for dealing with minor emotional problems.

THIS is why I suck. More than anything. THIS is why I will never, ever stop hating at least SOME part of me. Because I am weakkkkk!! I am weak and squishy and a huge brat! Okay. Okay. Now to call Isaac and try to explain the above minus all the self-deprecations (don't get me wrong, those are essential, but if you say them to a person they'll just try to contradict you or they'll get annoyed and neither of those things is Great).

-------

February 26, 2017 Sunday 4:32 PM


I did talk to Isaac about my general fear of Him And Related Things, so things got a little better. He was like, "I think I'm starting to understand you a little better." And then he asked what he could do to help, which is what he
always asks, and as usual I was like: jeez, man, NOTHING. You can't do anything!

I did tell him that he should probably leave me alone when I'm like that. Talking to me, trying to convince me that my thoughts are wrong, will probably have the opposite effect. That's human psychology, bro. Give me space, let me think about my emotions so that I can realize I'm an asshole in the comfort of my own silence!

So things are good, we are good, everything is okay and I am mostly calm.

Oh, yeah. I also spent approximately 18 hours in bed. I didn't sleep at all on Friday night, for reasons I don't feel like explaining (nothing bad). So I slept from like 7:30 PM to almost 4 in the morning. Then I talked a bit with Isaac on the phone (he has this terrible insomnia so he's, like, almost never asleep) and went back to sleep at 5. Woke up at half past nine, went back to sleep, woke up again at eleven, went back to sleep, didn't re-awaken until like half past noon and then I didn't get out of bed for another forty-ish minutes.

It felt shitty but whatever. I would've gotten up at 9, but I had these dreams and I wanted to stay with them forever.

I can't remember a lot from them, but I remember: Laney, school, a dead baby, and a guy named Ethan in a black tux with a baby blue.... something. Maybe baby blue trim, baby blue bowtie, I dunno. He was dressed formally, is the point.

Laney and I were in health class, which was conducted in a warehouse like the ones we use for shop at our high school. We were given an actual, real baby to care for, but we ended up killing it somehow. Cardiac arrest, said Laney, and I automatically knew that meant the baby had had a clot in it's heart which had burst. I don't think that that is what cardiac arrest actually is. Our other classmates kept offering their condolences.

Anyway, deep down, I knew the baby's death was somehow partly our fault. Outwardly, we acted like we did nothing and it was just another case of SIDS or something. But we fed it bad food and did not love it. So I felt like we were responsible for killing it, and I felt guilty for not feeling guilty about the baby's death. Jeez, even my dream self has to feel guilt all the time.

UUUUm Um uum um umm uM uMMMM

At some point in my dream, I was outside the high school with Isaac, I think??? He started walking home (in the direction of my house even though his is in the opposite direction). Well, this kid Ethan offered to drive me back to my house.

Dream Ethan seemed to be young, either in high school or college. He had either light brown or dark blonde hair, it was hard to tell. I can't remember if he was clean-shaven or not, and I can't remember the exact color of his eyes, but I know he looked caucasian and he had those nice cheek bones where it looks like the skins clinging to the bone structure, ya know.

He was, from what I can remember, a funny guy, very lighthearted (probs 'cause I made him up). We got along as if we had already known each other for a bit (again, made him up). I didn't question his formal attire, haha. He looked dressed for prom, which I guess makes sense – I've been doing some online shopping for a prom dress lately, so it's on my mind.

For some reason, I was holding his hand in my lap and... yeah, pretty much, haha. It didn't feel wrong for once. I mean, you could say it's because this was a dream, which is probably true. I know I've had other dreams where touch (with romantic connotations) felt just as wrong as in real life, but I mean I guess I've also had sex with faceless people in my dreams and it's been fine.

My dream cut to the next day. I think I was dressed in business clothes. Pencil skirt, button down, blazer. We were in a computer room that was dark. I knew automatically this was a New Visions thing, but not exclusively New Visions because lots of other kids were there too, including Dream Ethan (maybe he was in a different program, idk). My dad was standing next to me as we watched this presentation. When we began leaving, I told my dad to hold on; I realized that I didn't know Ethan's name and I didn't know how to find him, and if I didn't try to figure this out now, I'd never see him again. I went up to Ethan and asked him if he'd like my number. But I ended up handing my cell phone and he put his number into my contacts. My dad came up while this was happening and said some stuff to Ethan, who laughed kinda nervously. He gave me those shy glances. I can't remember if we hugged goodbye or not.

I just remember, on the way out the door, I gave my dad a light slap on the shoulder. I was like, "Stop scaring him!" and Dad was like, all innocent, "Whaaaat? Scaring him?? We were just talking!"

"He looked scared." I was laughing, though.

In the car park, I told Dad all about the dead baby as if it were nothing more than a messed up project.

"Yeah, it died of like... myocardial infarction or something."

He was like, "Isn't that a heart attack?"

We were climbing into the car. "I dunno, whatever."

Dad also began talking about the presentation we had just seen, which I can't remember much at all. He said, "Did you notice it really seemed like they were trying to scare you?"

"Oh, yeah. I know, they do that sometimes."

He brought up some infectious disease that had been discussed in the presentation; it was a virus and he referred to it by it's latin name, which I can't remember anymore. "Man, the world isn't ALL disease and death."

We agreed and continued talking about science, philosophy, the world, as we drove away.

I'm realizing now that the car we drove in (black with beige interior, looked like a smaller SUV) was kind of the same car that Ethan had been driving. Actually, black with beige interior reminds me of AJ's (the kid who drives me back to school in real life) car, although it is a sedan, not a mini-SUV. Maybe my imagination is lazy when it comes to cars. Or I could be remembering it wrong.

I woke up pretty much right after that, though. I wrote down this dream because it was strange. My dreams are not often very coherent and, like. Mundane. There's usually more gore and death, more terror and running away!
But this was just regular life (aside from the baby death, lol), and I had memories of earlier occurrences in the dream, which is just very unusual from my dream self.

A year or two ago, I had another dream where I imagined a guy whose name I didn't know and he gave me tranquilizers and hugged me hard. I can't remember what he said, I just know that it was in the middle of the emergency and that that whole dream had run itself like the plot of a novel (again, weird for my dreams). Since it's been a while, I can't remember if I ever knew this dude's name. I know his hair was medium/lightish brown, but it was dark and blue-stained in the room so maybe I can't trust the colors. I can't remember his face either.

I am not saying these two dreams are connected, as much as I'd like them to be.

Selective memory. I've probably had similarly linear dreams minus the made up dude, only I am not remembering because they do not have what I am looking for
I keep them in my vault of Cool Dreams, though. I didn't want to wake up from either.

Sux. Now I gotta go do HOMEWORK. COOL. LET ME NOT HAVE A HEART ATTACK. Please. No myocardial infarction for me.


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