There were so many dreams
My brother and I were getting ready for school.
Yes, once again, he was a kid, but we were getting ready for highschool – a time in his life when I was not in the house. Or it might have been college, since he vaguely mentioned something about a dorm room, and he did look vaguely as he had during that stage of his life. He looked great back then. I guess I did back then too.
We were listening to music – Jason Mraz, which I’m sure my brother does not like.
There were modern protocols (I didn’t want to say we were in Covid times) and so we each outfitted ourselves with huge see through tents. Inside of each of ours, there were lights, which lent to a pretty cool effect.
At one point, we each had a fish in a bag, and we threw them at each other as if in a water balloon fight. The floor was such that the water pooled on the floor, and the fish swam together.
The fish were two white betta fish, such as appear on the pinned post here. They were beautiful.I realized it wasn’t our house, I believe it might have been our Grandmother’s house in Upstate NY. A good part of the rest of my ( I typed our) dream took place out there.
I was speaking with my academic friend the other day, the day before yesterday, and he said that I was mourning something, that I had a tremendous amount of grief, and that I hadn’t let myself deal with it and was hiding in the present away from it. That I had a fear, and while I was working so hard to keep the things that I fear from becoming reality, this work was only feeding the fear.
It was a really hard hitting concept, and he was absolutely right.
I don’t have time to write today, I really don’t. I slept too long, for no reason, because I was hiding from something again.
I swore I would start to handle stress differently. I will.
I greet this day with hope, vigor and strength. This day holds new opportunities that I look forward to exploring.My daily affirmation, which I just realized that I didn’t say yet for the day. I woke up and fucked the boy at 8:34, he left for work, and then I slept until 2:19 (I paused before writing that, slow to admit it) for no reason when I really had so much that I had to do. We’ll see what can get done.
It’s probably for the best that this playlist sucks so bad, I have things I should be getting on to. I’m even drinking my coffee while it’s still hot.
But something told me that I had to get in to write today, it was the two betta fish swirling in a puddle, beautiful and fresh in my mind when I woke up. I couldn’t make sense of how the water pooled enough, just deep enough for them to live, and that cognitive dissonance woke me.
Much better than last night when I dreamed that my family was being followed by white terrorist KKK hicks in Virginia and then subsequently pulled over by a crooked police man who I was sure was going to shoot my brother. My utter inability to deal with that reality woke me.
How many times have I begged myself to wake up in such a similar manner, only to finally have to accept that I wasn’t dreaming. I have no idea how to follow that. I hate that feeling in the dream, it feels like drowning. Looking for the exit anywhere, somewhere, the entire scene and life and thought and universe and my perception of it all under water, and I’m looking for the plug to drain it so all the panic can swirl away and I can take one deep breath again. But there is no plug.
I don’t know what the point of today is, and while I would say that I don’t know what I’m hiding from, I do.
It occurs to me that I’m not the only one with things to mourn. And I’m not the only one who has been spending an inordinate amount of time and money on dressing up and “settling in” (what we wish it was, but it really isn’t) to a new home (I waited so long to type home, twice). I don’t know how to talk to him, he doesn’t talk.
I only have one brother I can find.
I haven’t dreamt of my older brother in so long.