Monday, January 05, 2009

Insight Into My Subconscious

I take Zoloft, it is good (for me, anyway). I probably will never get to be off of it, because my brain can’t seem to get the recipe right – you know – the one that stops you from crying 24 hours a day 7 days a week. So be it.

The one thing these pills do, though, is give me the most vivid dreams. Colors and sensations and sometimes, I could swear smells and tastes.
Unless it is my brother sneaking into my room and farting in my face at night. I find this doubtful, since, last time he gassed me out of a room it did not smell a thing like fresh baked brownies. Far, far from it, in fact.

I remember these dreams, too. Pretty much all of my dreams have had to do with war and kidnapping. I don’t know why this is, since I have never been to war, not a huge fan of war movies or blood and gore. Maybe my brain feels deprived and is making up for the lack of violence, by dreaming about it, night after night, after night, after night. In December alone, I visited Iraq, Afghanistan and was held hostage in some Latin American country.

I also dreamed I was giving birth to a baby girl (which would be nice, but I AM DONE HAVING CHILDREN!!). I could feel her head ramming against my cervix, as I was giving birth. Why would I do this to myself? For the love of God, I had drugs with all 3 of my children and I dream of (and feel) myself giving natural childbirth?

Can’t I choose what I am going to dream about in living Technicolor?

Heaven knows I haven’t had much variety in my bed. Why can’t I get it in my dreams, at least? I mean that way there are no diseases, risk of pregnancy, head games or messy emotional entanglements. Do I get these types of dreams? Not so much. I’ve had 2 of them, one had to do with a shower (okay, well, just after a shower) and the other had to do with a mirror. They were good dreams, but too few and far between for me. Honestly, why can’t Julian McMahon come and let me play doctor with him? I’m sure I wouldn’t mind smelling him either. Hell, if I had my way, there would be a line of men out the door of my (dream) bedroom every night. Okay, maybe not, I want to be able to walk the next day, but I could handle one or two dreams like this, a week (I don’t want to be greedy, I could have a couple about eating cheese fries and fry sauce, that would be okay, too).

Hey - a girl can dream can’t she?
posted by Ditsy Chick @ 1:23 PM |


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