Eternal Recurrance
I've seen people in movies wake up from a nightmare with a huge gasp, sitting up, sucking in air in one big act, and then panting, bleary-eyed, hoping their heart won't burst. It's always for dramatic effect, usually to bring the audience to bear on the fact that the character was, in fact, only dreaming that he was being hunted by giant squid, wasn't drowning at all, but that his body hasn't quite come to terms with it, and is gasping for air anyway.
I woke up like that last night, around 4am. Later, when I had calmed down, the drama queen-iness of if made me laught myself back to sleep (sorta). The dream, while it wasn't quite as strange as the shark dream I had the other night, had a similar feel. Thing is, in a way the dream was so freakin cliche. What did I dream of, that caused me so much anguish? Pretty much an amalgam of the various breakups I've been on the 'breakee' side of things on, over my whole life.
It's not many. (But I do like to talk about them, don't I?) Yet, for whatever reasons, they're some of the most intense emotional experiences of my life. I should count myself lucky for this, I know, but that doesn't stop it from getting to me, even still. I mean, I dreamt about my girlfriend from when I was 17 years old, for jeebus sake!
Thing is, and I've said this before: It's not really about the people I loved (and still love, apparently, in whatever way). There's something in me that's playing these scenes out again, that's still stuck there, in the past. It's not all a negative thing. I'm glad that I have loved so deeply (or obsessively, depending on your point of view and what day it is), and I'm glad that I can still feel things, good and bad. And I can't help thinking my brain is trying its hardest to 'work things out' but got stuck somewhere along the lines.
Ah therapy, sweet therapy, I missed you this week!
Filed under:Therapy
I've seen people in movies wake up from a nightmare with a huge gasp, sitting up, sucking in air in one big act, and then panting, bleary-eyed, hoping their heart won't burst. It's always for dramatic effect, usually to bring the audience to bear on the fact that the character was, in fact, only dreaming that he was being hunted by giant squid, wasn't drowning at all, but that his body hasn't quite come to terms with it, and is gasping for air anyway.
I woke up like that last night, around 4am. Later, when I had calmed down, the drama queen-iness of if made me laught myself back to sleep (sorta). The dream, while it wasn't quite as strange as the shark dream I had the other night, had a similar feel. Thing is, in a way the dream was so freakin cliche. What did I dream of, that caused me so much anguish? Pretty much an amalgam of the various breakups I've been on the 'breakee' side of things on, over my whole life.
It's not many. (But I do like to talk about them, don't I?) Yet, for whatever reasons, they're some of the most intense emotional experiences of my life. I should count myself lucky for this, I know, but that doesn't stop it from getting to me, even still. I mean, I dreamt about my girlfriend from when I was 17 years old, for jeebus sake!
Thing is, and I've said this before: It's not really about the people I loved (and still love, apparently, in whatever way). There's something in me that's playing these scenes out again, that's still stuck there, in the past. It's not all a negative thing. I'm glad that I have loved so deeply (or obsessively, depending on your point of view and what day it is), and I'm glad that I can still feel things, good and bad. And I can't help thinking my brain is trying its hardest to 'work things out' but got stuck somewhere along the lines.
Ah therapy, sweet therapy, I missed you this week!
Filed under:Therapy
posted by Jeff Pollet at 1:41 PM
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