Why do I write anything, do anything at all? A stupid question. Existing is hard. I don’t even look forward to sleeping because I have so many nightmares.
I hate dreaming so much. Hate it! I hope this nightmare medication starts doing its job again now that I’m back on it.
Example: I saw a movie called Hard Candy years ago about a woman who tortures a pedophile until he kills himself. In my dream last night I was living in that movie. It was so vivid and awful. Another dream I had recently involved killing demons/shadow people. It’s crazy to think that these might come from the devil himself and that I might LITERALLY be under spiritual attack because it happens so often. I am a Christian and have grown enough in my faith to know that this kind of thing is REAL.
Guess I’ll pray before going to bed and see if that helps?!
I’m always sour about leaving the house, but feel better when I do. Damn! Damn these ”normal” responsibilities on top of grief, suffering, and regret. But it’s good to be snapped back to normalcy even though it’s a hard initial transition.
Pre-grief. Dread. Flipping between worlds. Have I gotten better at it? I hope so. For now. I’m tired of being strong. I want to be soft. I want to lay at God’s feet and say “take this, my life.” I don’t have a death wise per se and would never harm myself. That disrupts the natural order of things. I would be forgiven for it in the end, but I’d like to avoid obliteration whenever I can.
Guess that’s all I can think of for now. Might write more about the demon dreams later.
Tata!
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