Tag Archive | dreaming

Overload

“I don’t know.”

It’s been my rote answer to almost every meaningful question over the last year or more.

What do you want? I don’t know. How do you feel? I don’t know. Where are you headed? I. Don’t. Know.

From a metaphysical point of view, I’ve been shoveling other people’s videos, audios, writings into my head since my teenage years. With the explosion of the Internet and the massive amount of information that is available at our fingertips about any and every conceivable topic, I’m reaching critical overload. I may have already tripped the breaker; the question is, do I want to reset it?

I’ve been trying to meditate more over the last several weeks. It was going good for awhile, but lately I’m finding myself too frustrated to pay sufficient attention. The more frustrated I get, the less I can meditate; the less I meditate, the more frustrated I get. It’s a self-sustaining cycle. As the frustration builds, I find myself falling back into the habit of researching.

I’m a junkie addicted to the compiling of information, the assimilation of data. An information binge eater. I can’t just sample it, I must gorge myself on everything I can find on a topic and then, unsurprisingly, find myself completely burned out at the end. Binge eating fills a void. Everyone’s void is different but the key to getting a handle on it is the same: find out what the void is and find a better way to fill it, repair it. Information binge eating is exactly the same, driven by the same need to fill a psychological or metaphysical void. It goes hand-in-hand with many aspects of hoarding (in that bingeing on information frequently includes stockpiling books, videos, digital content, and what not) and brings along much of the same baggage. For me, the metaphysical bingeing derives at least partly from this need to fill the huge questioning void in my soul, as though someone else holds the key to my own spiritual quest, when a quest by its very nature is personal and individual and something only you can undertake.

It’s really time that I started looking within for my answers, instead of expecting to find the answers to my own personal questions and crises in someone else’s words. To do that, I really need to be more conscientious about meditating and using other inward-facing tools like journaling. My dreams have been particularly vivid lately so I want to start recording those where I can remember them. Just take an inner journey of my own instead of reading about other people’s mystical travels. I may have to avoid the Internet for awhile to do that.

[As an aside, today, while napping in between stretches of watching the new Bob Marley documentary, I had a dream in which I told a man who looked like a young Bill Gates that there were people out there with both a deep understanding of the metaphysical nature of the universe and a great affinity with technology and that he should go find them, actively go out there and search for them, because they were the future. It seemed important enough to me that I kept repeating the words every time I woke up briefly in order that I wouldn’t forget when I finally got up. (Didn’t quite work out, since I forgot some of the specific words, but the gist and images of it remained. I also forgot something Bob Marley himself said in the dreams, something I’d also thought was important but clearly not as important. LOL)]

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Suffocating

Out of breath today. Not sure why. Upper back, shoulders, and neck are stiff and sore but don’t know if that’s why I’m breathless or because of the breathlessness.

Dreamed tonight of suffocating. In the dream, I was ill or suffering from some kind of disability that prevented me from communicating properly and was leaning against the bent knee of a father figure. Something made it difficult to breathe and as I struggled, he held me tighter, thinking I was just distressed over something and not realizing that I was trying to shift to a position where I could breathe better. As he held onto me, his knee pressed into my left upper back, right about where my PE was. He was killing me by trying to help me. And, like those old dreams I used to have where I was cattle prodded, I wasn’t able to breathe or move to defend myself. Eventually the dream me would reach a distress level that snapped me into a slightly different version of the dream—this happened a couple of times; the last time I woke up. It’s not the first time I’ve had a dream like that recently, though I haven’t had those suffocating dreams for years. When I was having the cattle prod dreams regularly, I wrote in to a column in the local paper that did dream analysis. My letter was chosen and the woman said that my subconscious was trying to tell me that I was going down a road that I shouldn’t be. At the time, I told my subconscious that, if it wanted to tell me something, it should be more clear and I had a number of very clear, very amazing dreams after that…and no more cattle prods. But that was in the early 1990s. I don’t know what’s going on now? Is it my subconscious prodding me again? Is it my brain just processing daily events (including my breathing trouble and aches)? Is it prescience, a portent of something?  I don’t know but suffocating is not a fun way to spend your REM sleep.

Nip it in the bud

Had a nap yesterday after getting really dizzy, and had disturbing dreams that woke me up heartbroken and crying. But I don’t really remember more than the odd flash of images from them. What I remember shouldn’t have been so devastating so I wonder at what I don’t remember.

Wasn’t able to sleep after that. Sunday insomnia. Toyed with the idea of not sleeping at all last night but gave in at around 3:30am. Had a very fitful hour or so of sleep before getting up again to get ready for work. Was tired, hungry (in an “I’m going to puke” way), and crotchety all morning. Had lunch and am still feeling less than perky. Can feel last month’s mood cycling starting to build up again: anger and despair duking it out. Fecking hormones! Need to nip that before it gets a foothold.

Hair is too clean today — fluffy, poofy instead of spikey. Not a bad hair day but not a good hair day either.  Blarg.