They say dreams are ones' subconscious digesting what goes on around them. An attempt to make sense of ones' daily's affairs. Taking familiar faces, situations and landmarks and combining them so it's a little bit easier to comprehend. More than often my dreams don't make any sense but then again, most will agree.
Last night i dreamt i was back in Melbourne. Living in the two-storey townhouse that my parents had bought years ago and invested in so that when i went to university, i'd have a place to live. Unfortunately, with my rejected PR application there was no need for them to keep the unit. So along with the memories and my staircase that i hand painted blue during winter, the two-storey unit was sold.
Anyway, everything was exactly how i remember it to be. I had re-enacted that day my place got broken into. Only difference was my back door to my little garden had fallen off its hinges. In my dream, nothing was taken except i had an eery feeling that those responsible would return. It's a re-occuring dream of invasion of privacy.
And as predicted, 3 hours post Stilnox kicking in, i woke up lying on my bed trying to remove the image of strangers in my head. Smooks lay stretched beside my foot and was playing footsie, as if he was reassuring me that i was no where near danger.
And for those who have only just bit into my slice of life, there was a time where my few hours of rest [if that's what you could call it] was haunted with explicit and vivid dreams. At one point, it was nearly impossible to get a full cycle of sleep [approximately 3 hours]. And when i did manage to sleep, purely out of exhaustion, i was sandwiched between my reality and my subconscious.
Insomnia was not something i suffered from during my early years of childhood. And i blame it entirely on the side effects of my meds [as a result of stress, various other idiotic issues and disorders].
I admit i have a strong love/hate relationship with my medication. But just when things were going relatively smooth, some other factor has to come in and knock me on my arse! I am meant to have my meds reduced next month but i can't risk having a relapse knowing that the next coming months will mean a huge increase in workload.
And although it's rare for young adults to have a heart attack before they're 30, i don't think i am physically and mentally able to handle the pressure again. Or is this another test?
It is nearly impossible for me to understand, let alone any sane person to comprehend what i'm talking about. But i'm telling you now, i am more frightened than ever, knowing there is a smidgen of chance there COULD be a rerun of what i endured in the last year and a half.
Why is it that fate delivers an opportunity to earn extra to make life a little more cushiony but then ones' full-time job goes full steam ahead? The pressure is on... question is, how long can i last?
Last night i dreamt i was back in Melbourne. Living in the two-storey townhouse that my parents had bought years ago and invested in so that when i went to university, i'd have a place to live. Unfortunately, with my rejected PR application there was no need for them to keep the unit. So along with the memories and my staircase that i hand painted blue during winter, the two-storey unit was sold.
Anyway, everything was exactly how i remember it to be. I had re-enacted that day my place got broken into. Only difference was my back door to my little garden had fallen off its hinges. In my dream, nothing was taken except i had an eery feeling that those responsible would return. It's a re-occuring dream of invasion of privacy.
And as predicted, 3 hours post Stilnox kicking in, i woke up lying on my bed trying to remove the image of strangers in my head. Smooks lay stretched beside my foot and was playing footsie, as if he was reassuring me that i was no where near danger.
And for those who have only just bit into my slice of life, there was a time where my few hours of rest [if that's what you could call it] was haunted with explicit and vivid dreams. At one point, it was nearly impossible to get a full cycle of sleep [approximately 3 hours]. And when i did manage to sleep, purely out of exhaustion, i was sandwiched between my reality and my subconscious.
Insomnia was not something i suffered from during my early years of childhood. And i blame it entirely on the side effects of my meds [as a result of stress, various other idiotic issues and disorders].
I admit i have a strong love/hate relationship with my medication. But just when things were going relatively smooth, some other factor has to come in and knock me on my arse! I am meant to have my meds reduced next month but i can't risk having a relapse knowing that the next coming months will mean a huge increase in workload.
And although it's rare for young adults to have a heart attack before they're 30, i don't think i am physically and mentally able to handle the pressure again. Or is this another test?
It is nearly impossible for me to understand, let alone any sane person to comprehend what i'm talking about. But i'm telling you now, i am more frightened than ever, knowing there is a smidgen of chance there COULD be a rerun of what i endured in the last year and a half.
And to add to my laundry list of questions of WHY!?
Why is it that fate delivers an opportunity to earn extra to make life a little more cushiony but then ones' full-time job goes full steam ahead? The pressure is on... question is, how long can i last?
Take these pills that keep me sane
and allow me to take a sober breath.
I hide to save you from my problems
I don't even know You
But why do i keep breaking?
Who will love me when all i do is shy away?
I have lost my freewill to Trust but the truth is
I never trusted myself to begin with
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