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I had a nightmare where I was huddled in a dark room, and there was a man standing in the doorway in a flood of light. He spoke to me angrily, enumerating all of my personal and professional flaws. He told me that I deserved to be hurt, and that's when I woke up.

It's not the first time I've had this dream. I know the man in the doorway, he's a friend of mine. He's the last person I would expect to put in an appearance in a dream like this.

Dream...

Aug. 3rd, 2007 04:03 am
ragdoll13: (Default)
I just woke from the most disturbing adventure dream. It was harry potter-esque and a bit chow-yun-fattish, but with elements of horror not seen in either.

Im the dream, I was a younger self, teenage or so, and I was running away from some great evil man. All his henchmen were my school pals, but as I ran from him, public opinion began to fall in his favor and soon I was beset upon on all sides by hardworking joe average.

I had two mentors helping me, along with my family. One of the mentors was Phil Rose, the other, I forget who that was, but it seems to me it was someone I knew. Mike and Katy and Mom helped me out as much as they could, but people were dying all around me. Some of them, I had to kill. I killed my own mom with flung chopsticks. I flew a large passenger jet.
ragdoll13: (Default)
I was troubled last night by a bad dream. Not a nightmare, exactly... at least, not in the classical sense. I had it over and over again last night, every time I fell back asleep it returned. It was inescapable.

In the dream, I was in bed, in the dark, and one of my dear friends was standing in the doorway to my bedroom (it was the bedroom in the new place, which I think may bode well for my emotional state). I was kind of a little-girl me, skinny and knock-kneed, barely a bump under the comforter (maybe that says something about vulnerability?) in my lacy nightgown, the kind mom used to make me wear. He stood in the door and harangued me, telling me how selfish and cruel I was, that I was a terrible person and only brought suffering and unhappiness into the lives of people I knew, that the world would be better off without me, that I'd ruined Michael's life and my mother's life, and that none of my friends actually like me, they just hang out with me for Michael's sake, that I am a horrible shell of humanity, on and on, his voice getting louder and louder with each accusation, until he was as loud as a jet engine, shaking the walls and hurting my ears. He said that was why he didn't spend time with me anymore, that I had hurt him too desperately, and all the time I had spent wallowing in self-pity, wondering why, was because he didn't tell me all of this before, because he knew I would only take it out on the people around me; his friends.

Each time, I woke up as he stepped into the room.

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ragdoll13

April 2009

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