It Was Just A Dream

Dear Reader,

I’m sorry it’s been so long since my last post. Right now I’m on holiday (or vacation) with my parents, just me and them. And, I have been taking my medication again, routinely. So, I’ve been pretty up. But I am also making an incredibly tiring effort to avoid all possible triggers. Keeping myself busy, sleeping as much as possible, avoiding songs that bring me down. But, to be honest, its 50% ignoring triggers and 50% convincing myself and them I’m ok. I think being here has definitely brought my mood up, but I know going home will bring me down.

So instead of writing about my holiday I want to talk about something that happened recently. I don’t remember if I said it, but I had a dream where my grandmother told me she hated me, to be honest even though I’m not sure I believe in god or the afterlife, it has given me some comfort to think she’s watching me, well. Maybe comfort isn’t the best way of describing it, anxiety is probably the right one. I have become incredibly anxious that she will now realise what I am really like and she will hate me.

Do I sound crazy?

So, about a week ago my mum couldn’t sleep, she became convinced something was going to happen to my grandad, her alarm clock suddenly started flashing in the night. Anyway, to cut a boring story short, the next day my grandad collapsed (he’s ok.) anyway, my Mum became convinced that it was a sign from my grandma telling her to look after my grandad so I thought “Why don’t I get a sign that says she doesn’t hate me?” Then I fell asleep.

Just before I woke up the next day I had a very strange dream.

From a train window I saw my grandma running for train struggling with a trolley of stuff. She got on and I helped her with her things which were a bag and a stereo. I tried to take her back to my family, but instead she insisted on going in the opposite direction. She was looking for someone or something. We ended up at a market stall (still on the train) we bought some clothes and a case we looked at expensive earrings, the kind of earrings I like. which is weird because I like plastic earrings and they were never exactly my grandma’s style.

Then we were on the move again. We ended up at a bus stop and my grandma was shouting at a man on top of a high building that she had got his stuff. He said he was coming down, and he did she showed him what she had bought a stereo. A dinosaur, a plastic cassette box. My brother had caught up by this time and nobody else seemed skeptical as to why my grandma had done this. The my mum showed up and my uncle. And I was crying the whole time. Holding on to her and crying. I didn’t understand why she was giving this man that none of us knew this stuff, why had she spent money on a stranger?

Eventually I got the man away from my grandma and I asked him what he was doing. He said he was dying of cancer. I didn’t really have anything to say after that so I walked away. We were all surrounding my grandma and walking but I was desperate to talk to her alone because I had become convinced she was going to kill herself and was giving things away to make it easier after her death. I kept begging people to let me talk to her alone. Then my grandma was gone, I was trying to show my family a video about how sometimes suicidal people give away their possessions. Eventually I left my house, standing at my front door was a young boy he said “My grandad died” I knew he was talking about the man my grandma had been giving stuff to. I said I was sorry to hear it and ran to my grandparents house (which is up the road)

She was sitting on a bench outside. I sat next to her and began to hug her, someone was doing her hair. I begged her to tell me honestly if she was going to kill herself. I showed her a note I had written, well it was more like a poster. I told her that if she did it I would too. Then all of my family showed up. I told her I just wanted a yes or no. As she walked away she said “no. It doesn’t end Elephant” (Which I assume is a reference to the afterlife.)

Then I walked into my grandma’s house and my family were surrounding her in bed. She had died, but everyone was at peace.

I guess out of weakness or some unknown reason. Maybe I just don’t know if I believe in God or not. I said last “give me a sign that you don’t hate me” as I went to bed I knocked something over. I though “is that a sign” then I decided that in reality anything could be a sign. Shrugged it off and went to sleep.

I guess out of weakness or fear or some unknown reason I was feeling vulnerable, I don’t want to believe my grandma hates me. Maybe I just don’t know if I believe in God or not. I said last “give me a sign that you don’t hate me” as I went to bed I knocked something over. I though “is that a sign” then I decided that in reality anything could be a sign. Shrugged it off and went to sleep.

I realise that dream was probably my subconscious trying to make me feel better. But I want to believe that she had a hand in that. I want to believe that she meant she didn’t hate me and that if things ever did get bad enough that I ended my life. There is something for me after I die. This has all been quite emotional for me I woke up crying. I struggle with my religion. I’m not sure I know what I believe.

As Always,

The Elephant in the Room

No Change

I have always found humour to be the only way that I am able to not only understand other people, but also to understand myself. However, from the disgusted tone of my mother’s voice last night. Telling her, jokingly that I no longer care about anything was a mistake. In fact, a direct quote from her would be “you’re being ridiculous. Don’t say that again.”  Continue reading