Dreamed about my father, sort of. It was very very dark and the whole family and some others were staying in a very noir bed and breakfast. Mother went upstairs to get dad out of the shower. Heard screaming, but only barely – thought it was the television or in my head. Decided it was not, and sure enough, a pen on paper began to write by itself: “HELP ME.” I knew it was her but I didn’t know where or why or how. “Mom? Mom? Where are you?” The pen wrote again: “BATHROOM” but even as it began to write I knew and I ran. Up the stairs and she was crying on the tile floor; father was nowhere to be found. I went downstairs, down to the dark black water, and climbed in a raft-boat-box with a sister – my sister but not my real-life sister – and we floated away in the dark. We landed and crawled onto the sand, and approached a gate. There was light on the other side. We banged on the gate till a skinny man with a stubbly beard and very short hair let us in. He looked like evil-masquerading-as-good. Our father was there, with the man. He said they were office partners, or something. I told him we had to GO. So we went, leaving the man behind. I told my sister and my father that he was bad, but they wouldn’t believe me. We went back to the dark town, to the bed and breakfast, to mother and to friends. Dad slipped out of the boat and I had to save him. I asked him if he could speak, explain, and he couldn’t. I told him it would be okay, and somehow I pushed part of my mind into his and I knew everything. We were connected, the way my mother could use telekinesis to write from far away, I could telepathically understand him. I brought him in and everything was very, very dark still, and we all breathed very heavily, but it was going to be okay.
I woke up and felt like crying. It was the middle of the night still. I couldn’t cry and I was cold and I buried myself in blankets in the fetal position and felt like death. I fell back asleep and dreamed more.
This time I dreamed about school, about the Bazaar and Gym Drill and cherry and the momma cow who was Not Acting Like Herself or A Momma Cow At All. First, though, I was in a beach town, swimming in the ocean, racing a chubby boy in red swim trunks and a white t-shirt. Then the ocean was a carnival game at the bazaar. Then there was cotton candy, and snowballs, and snowball fights. Then I met up with the girls and we had to go to Gym Drill but we needed the bathroom but they kept running away from me. I told them we should use the garrett-annex bathroom so we went in there but somehow they kept escaping, running away into the weird, escher-y reality that is the middle school, laughing at me because I couldn’t keep up. They made it to gym drill and I did not. I stood at the edge of the field and cried because I could see my circle confused and dancing without me. Then the dean of students stopped the music, and said we were starting over, because too many girls had been late. I cried my way onto the field, and danced and danced until I woke up.
Woke up too sick-feeling and depressed-feeling to go to school. No idea what is going on. Too much too much. cooking dinner for the cherry bitch in hopes that she will eat something neither junk food nor diet coke nor salad. calling elena in hopes that she will explain her late-night voicemail. checking email obsessively in hopes that the boy will write back. eating candy in hopes that I will throw up. feel sick. feel overwhelmed. stress = tense muscles, irritable stomach, quiet angry mood. tried to watch buffy last night and just got pissed off because it was a shitty episode. took a bath with something which made it smell like green jello and look kind of like green jello (fabulous). wearing ninjaboy’s shirt because it is my mental health day shirt and comforting. tank top, no bra. feels good, feels like some remnant of control.
