So, something hasn't been right lately. I'm not sure if it's that I'm not eating right, which I'm sure I'm not... or if I'm not getting enough sleep, which is also true, or if I'm stressed about various things, which I am... Either way, some combination of these issues has caused my psyche to be completely out of wack. I'm not sleeping, even if I'm really exhausted. If I do sleep, I toss and turn and have nightmares, and I wake up frequently, yet can't drag myself out of bed when it's actually time to get up. Let me elaborate... two nights ago, I was very combative in my sleep. I remember fighting someone in my dream, and my roommate woke me the following morning, having found me sitting straight up, legged crossed (Indian style), staring out the window. The covers were balled up on the ground, and pillows were strewn across the room.

Last night, my dream was very vivid and disturbing. Don't judge my subconscious activity. It began as I had fallen overboard, and was trying to stay above water in the middle of a choppy, very dark, ocean. There were no boats around, so I have no idea what I fell off of, unless it was a cloud. Desperately flailing my arms about, I look over and see a puppy trying to swim. I swim over, grab the puppy, and place him on my stomach, as I float on my back for a while. I fall asleep, floating, and wake up when I hit the sand. I pick up the puppy, put him on the sand and he turns into a child and runs away. I look over and see a huge freighter, parallel to shore, sinking, in 10 feet of water. People are running around on the freighter in a mode of panic, trying to save it from sinking. I yelled out to them, 'why don't you all just get off the boat?' Falling into a single-file line, I joined the mass of people parading down the beach in relative silence. The captain directs us toward a camp that he said he had build the last time he had been to that island. We go in through a revolving stick gate, and realize we're trapped. It's a torture camp. Somehow I end up in a large wooden pen, with a wooden branch going through the pen like a rod in a closet. I was being tortured, I think someone was trying to cut me, and they took a few people I cared about (don't know who they were) from the pen and returned their quartered bodies and draped them over the branch, and would say things like, "Ok, come on, you're next." WTF?!?! Why on earth would I go next? Being chopped into pieces... not exactly on my to-do list today, thanks though. At any rate, I follow the torture man into the woods, but I'm watching me follow him. I disappear, and all my dream is, is looking at the empty pen. Then I woke up and went to work. Honestly. My subconscious seems stressed.
I've been over-analyzing my life and having imaginary conversations during my occasional 2 hour commute home. When you're alone with nothing to do, sitting in traffic, it's not uncommon to talk to yourself, I've heard. I've been over-emotional. Way too sensitive and taking things personally. My mother usually gets under my skin but lately it seems like every time I talk to her, the smallest things set me off. Feeling slightly depressed, lonely, and drained last night, I needed an excuse to let out this emotion. Instead of going out to dinner for my friend's birthday and socializing with other human beings, I went home, curled up on the couch and proceeded to watch 5 episodes of Grey's Anatomy, in a row, which gave me an excuse to cry at each episode because they're just that good.
It's a really good thing I'm going to the beach this weekend. Beach fixes everything.

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