#685 (Added to)

I am a lockdown chamber they use in a prison or an inpatient ward. The sort with cold hard walls, no windows and the kind of door that seals. There’s a camera and harsh lighting which, incidentally, you cannot control from inside. And the room is filling up with things, objects that take up space. It’s getting to be a bit much so it’s pressing against the interior. This is all happening on the inside and I when I look at my chest I feel it going and can observe. I’m not in the room at all, the rooms inside me, physically inside my body and it wants out and of course I’m not allowing that. My heart is too big for this jail of ribs. I don’t know what’s happening. I want to just siphon it off by spinning into another dream and just letting it pass. These things always do. Time destroys everything eventually. And this thing? Short half-life. Short half-life indeed. 

I tried to sleep. Did, had a dream and woke up an hour and some minutes later. It seemed like it was longer and I feel rested and now I can’t stay laying down so I’m back here again adding to this entry. I dreamed that I was in a cave and I was laying down and it was cool and nice. Then I heard something above my head and I looked up and saw that the other half of the cave was half of a bathroom and a woman had walked in. She didn’t look very special to me, just jeans and a shirt and brown hair and a slightly chubby, but altogether nice face. She didn’t pay me any note, was just looking at herself in the bathroom mirror and getting undressed. She kicked off her pants and took off her shirt and I watched. She was attractive nude. She had the nice sorts of breasts and nipples that many girls wish they had with the right size and the right amount of perk and hang. When she took off her panties she wasn’t trimmed, but she wasn’t wild either….it looked like….the way I’d think of a somewhat crazy (in a good way) artsy chick would look. She was beautiful. And…I kept thinking I saw hands running along her body as I watched and looked at her but no hands were actually there. Like when she tilted her head and looked at herself in the mirror, I could see a hand from behind her run from her neck down to her shoulder, then behind her again. It was so natural and so real and it felt like my hand even though I wasn’t actually near her. I looked more at her face and studied her and tried to feel out who she was that way and I started getting swimmy with infatuation. She reminded me of Evie, but not. It was a big thing this thing she represented, much more so than just the body but years of idealism too. I wanted to find out who she was, why she did what she did and just be close to her and in my head we were having that conversation and I was learning about her. But that’s not exactly right…I already knew who she was and what she did, she was just a new body. I loved her for her and I’ve loved her for forever. I don’t even need a reason to love her, I just know I do more powerfully than I’ve ever felt for anything or anyone else. I knew this woman, if that’s what she really is, and I always have. Meanwhile she was making sure her body was to her liking, applying makeup here and there, and getting into a new outfit. A shiny black leather outfit, but not glossy. Straps ran up the center of her stomach and her back and more looped around her body covering much of her breasts but defining them in a suggestive sort of way both on top and on bottom. There were more straps around her stomach which became a sort of garter on bottom. She undid her hair out of the ponytail it was and let it down and she looked more herself than she did before and she was absolutely gorgeous for that. That’s weird to think of now….that one can be more themselves in one set of clothing than in another. Mmm.

I had to meet her so I got up and walked to her and I introduced myself and she knew me same as I knew her and she told me there was a party going on and that I should come, that it’d be a chance to experience a bit of her world and I agreed. I stepped after he when she went through the door and I noticed walking out that the cave was gone and that the bathroom was just a bathroom. It seemed weird but I let it go. I followed her down a hall and she told me she had to go take care of something so I stayed with the other guests. They didn’t register much for me, they were literally and figuratively shadows compared to her. Just greyscale people as she walked around and talked and set out cups here and food there. And then I felt hungry, so I walked over to a stand of food underneath party lights that seemed to me to be more dull christmas lights than anything else and I saw that there were little signs labeling everything. One said bath salts and it had giant quartz crystals like you see wiccans and hippies occasionally fuss over. They had some other things, but once I read that I really really wanted to try the bath salts because I was feeling desperate for some reason, so I did. I ate them and they melted in my mouth like powdered sugar, like a pixie stick. That didn’t sit well with me and I didn’t like that so I grabbed a giant mushroom that was elsewhere and ate that too and it tasted and felt like a hamburger when I started chewing and that was okay. 

I was walking back to a place to sit down and the room started spinning…I was really fucked up I realized and that I had had too much. The whole room and people started to shift and the halls crinkled and changed like I was in a tube of paper and someone had their hands on the outside, crunching in here and letting it out there and it was thoroughly disorientating. My vision started going weird too, like a strobe light and I got a really, really bad feeling about everything, like something was going to happen to me and I was in a lot of danger. In the light part of the strobe I could see something far away notice me, turn towards me and I knew it was going to get me so I went the other direction and I was running through crinkling tunnels of strange colors lined with christmas tree lights and somehow I got back to the bathroom again. I saw a thermos sitting there full of milk and I knew it would be just what I needed so I drank it and it wasn’t milk at all, but a thick fluid that flowed like glue. I drank it and it dripped slow down my throat, but it was okay for all that. My vision returned to normal and everything was good again. 

Then I felt like I had to go to the bathroom and I sat down and nothing happened so I got up and started noticing that little things were off, that things were weird. There was a crack in the mirror that wasn’t there before and the mirror made me uneasy. That’s not too strange though, I’ve had a lot of bad experiences with mirrors in dreams so that’s understandable. Then I noticed that the handle to the door was gone and in it’s place was just a hole. That made me pause. Then I noticed there was dirt all over the floor and before the room was spotless and nice. I had to get out and get back to the party but I felt weirded out by the whole situation enough to grab a toothbrush and use that to put in the hole in the door where the handle had been instead of my hand. Something grabbed it and yanked it out of my hand and then started screaming at me. Telling meit was going to kill me and that I was "Fucked you fucking faggot." It kept yelling like that and banging on the door. Now it seems odd to me that the door stayed locked and shut considering there was nothing to latch, but it did anyway. It was getting nasty and I knew it would come through the door, so I started looking around the room for something to protect myself with and then I noticed that the bathtub was over  a trap door. It was an old tub, the kind with gargoyle feet on balls that are heavier than sin. I had to pull like hell to get it loose, and then I had to wedge myself in between the wall and the tub and push out with my feet to get it to come off far enough. Meanwhile the yelling and screaming has gotten louder and the banging on the door too, I thought I could hear wood splintering. I pulled open the trap door and an female arm reached up to help me down a ladder. I took it and walked down and then let go for the rest of the way. When I looked there was nothing there. 

I was in a wooden hallway, all old-looking boards of unvarnished/sealed wood. I walked and listened to my own footsteps and there were pictures on the walls. Most of them didn’t mean anything to me, but then I came on a picture of Kate and I stopped to look at it. There were others too. Some were like pictures usually are, others were very candid and definitely not normal, like one was of her sleeping, another of her walking to work like a paparazzi photograph. The whole thing made me sad, really sad. I thought about that everything that happened and about how unlovable I am and how that this just proves all of that and I started to cry. I was really bawling like I have never done and will never do. I don’t cry over people and I don’t cry over things, it just doesn’t happen. And in the rare cases that I do, it’s a trickle for a few minutes and that is all. That wasn’t how it was in the dream, I was wracked and I almost couldn’t move because of the force of everything and my chest ached. I was thinking a lot of things but I forget a lot of it now…I just remember the ending where I wanted it to just stop, where I just wanted to die. I was thinking about driving over the mackinaw bridge and turning off to the side. I could see it in my dream off to the side and I stepped into it and I was on the mackinaw with my car and I got back in, turned it back on and drove, then started driving fast and I turned hard over the sides and I plunged down towards lake michigan and I opened the car door and jumped out only thinking about how I could get myself to land in the water in any way except feet first. I belly-flopped and I could hear the crunch and the ache in my chest get worse and my head was ache-screaming as I started to sink into the water and I choked.

And that’s when I woke up gasping for breath. First thing I remember is the sweet taste of air after not being able to breathe. Second thing was the relief of the pain in the rest of my body too. Third was regret that it was just a dream and that I was alive. Fourth was anger for my mind having put me through that, why should it do that to me? It’s supposed to be on my side, not attacking me. Nor should it be stirring up the the suicidality bent I have in me. Because that’s all it did here. 

Andddd now I can’t sleep even though I need to be up in 3 and a half hours. And apparently I’ve burned an hour writing this too Wonderful. 

I’m upset by the whole thing. Especially because it’s all true.

I’m going to go lay down and listen to red house painters. Maybe that’ll help me get some rest for the day ahead. 

 I really want to be loved and cared about but I know it isn’t very likely to happen and that I’ll likely end up alone, as ever. There was a suicide in Pickerel not long ago, an obvious death, a 19 year old shot himself and it was a nasty scene. All I could think of was why he was dead and I am alive. It didn’t compute. It still doesn’t. I don’t know why I’m alive when he isn’t. Why shouldn’t he be living life and doing new things, he’s young, at nineteen the world hasn’t even opened up for you yet, you don’t understand anything yet at that age. Why should he be dead and me alive? I’m so screwed up. I see in my minds eye what I want myself to be, I see what I want to be to people; I want to be caring and giving and supportive and I want to make them laugh and to smile but I always fail at actually being that person to people I get close to. This kid, a pretty normal guy from what I’ve heard, how could be he be any worse than me? Chances are he wasn’t. That he had the potential to have all the things I want. He probably had the potential to have all the things *he* wanted to. Or what most everyone wants. So why choose to die? 

I don’t understand at all. Nothing makes sense. 

It reminds me of why I’m pushing to be an EMT and why I enjoy it to some extent….I can’t reliably be the person to people I’m close to. I’m just me and that’s all. But I can be caring, I can make people laugh and feel better and I’m really really good at it for short periods of time. It drains me more than people realize to be that person….but in short bursts it’s okay. And I can make my patients smile and feel better, even many of the trauma patients. I had my airlifted UTV accident guy talking smack about pain being in the mind. I had ashley, the girl I talked about before, smiling in the back of my rig. Most of my patients smile for me and a bunch of them laugh too. It’s just…that person isn’t me. Not really. The real me isn’t very feely and he’s emotionally cold. When you tell me about your day and how it was terrible my instinct is to look at it logically and fix the problem, not to be comforting or to just listen. When I think about it as a problem I see a logical rational solution and I hone in on that and often other things become wrong to me. So when anything else happens, I get upset by it and when people see that they get upset and then I get defensive and when I’m defensive I’m a dick and then the whole situation goes to hell. That’s not what I want to be…what I should be saying is I love you and giving you a hug. It’s not about right and wrong but I just don’t think that way and no matter how much I try I don’t change. It doesn’t come natural at all and the one person who I thought was patient enough to work with me through that wasn’t. It’s not that I don’t love and it’s not that I don’t care and it’s not that my priorities are fucked it’s just…I don’t know any other way to act or to be. I don’t WANT to seem judgmental, I want to fix the problems more than most people do. And how can you fix a problem without accurate information free of subjectivity? I…I don’t know. How else can you fix the world? You can’t! So like, I don’t want to seem judgmental but I *have* to be if I want to be effective. It’s not that I don’t care….I care more than most people do, too. I’m not easy though, I know I’m not easy. I’m just wrong. I’m just all wrong.

I’m really lonely. 

And I don’t want meaningless prosaic comments either. That’ll likely keep me lonely. 

I want everyone to just leave me alone. I don’t want new friends anymore. They end up not being friends at all. I’m just drained by the whole thing.