Where did all the pirates go?

I get home every day exhausted. Shattered. Sometimes I’m so tired, that my hands are shaking, as I’m digging through my purse for my keys.

Some days I haven’t even done much, like today. I went to Uni, hit the Bank, and had an appointment with my counsellor. It was a good day. I felt strong, and capable, and friendly. I had a great chat with the korean guy at the bank, about Taekwon Do, as he adjusted my overdraft, and helped me pay off my personal loan. I got a card from my Dad that made me feel warm, and hopeful.

So parts of it were even great.

It’s just that feeling things again? Even good things? Is exhausting. And hard work. Being social, is tiring. Don’t get me wrong – I’d SO MUCH rather feel, than be numb again. But it’s exhausting in a way I’ve never really noticed before. Being out of the house slowly saps my strength in a way that leaves me ready for sleep at 4pm.

4pm is my goal every day. If I can be out, and active until then, then I have succeeded for one more day. Sometimes afterwards I’ll go to Taekwon Do, or the gym, and that’s great. Other times I simply drag myself home and talk to my flatmates or read, or watch TV, until my 8pm burst of energy hits.

Today I flopped down on the couch, intent on reading a trashy romance, and instead fell almost immediately into sleep.

I try not to do that, generally, because I have enough trouble falling asleep at 11, and waking up at 7.30 as it is. I’m scared adding the occasional afternoon nap will confuse my body beyond all recognition, and I’ll end up back where I started, wide awake at 4am in the morning, watching joggers, gym bunnies, and trash collectors wake up and go about their day.

My nap this afternoon ended up being four hours long, full of dreams about blind cats, accidentally eating pet fish, conversations with family, empty houses full of people, fat men on couches… And lots of deeply symbolic imagery, feelings, and abstract thoughts.

I’ve been doing  lot of this kind of dreaming lately.

I finally wrenched myself awake, aching from the too-short couch, and sweating from the weight of a duvet that I’d dragged over myself at some point.

As I sat there contemplating my brain’s ridiculously complicated hoop-jumping, I rubbed my eyes and thought “Good grief. Where the heck did all the fun dreams about being a pirate go?!”

Daily Question: What do you dream about?


4 thoughts on “Where did all the pirates go?

  1. I dream about work. It is sad but true. It sounds like my dreams aren’t nearly as vivid as yours though!! I just wake up with a vague memory of organising my desk, or something similarly boring.

    Aw!! That’s boring! It’s not even at work, doing the conga or something… It’s all stuff you actually do!

  2. I don’t usually remember my dreams much but they often involve family members.

    To answer your topical question: All of the pirates today appear in Disney films and look like Johnny Depp.

    It’s really weird how often my dreams involve family… And never Johny Depp!! I’d really like (just once) to dream about captain Jack Sparrow!!

  3. Sometimes I think my dreams are cheap, because the same stuff keeps being re used every time, just like low budget movies.

    I dream about many things, but some physical elements or props tend to repeat themselves. The old buildings are always there, and the horizontal elevators too. Weird isn’t it? I will typically enter one of these very old buildings with the 1930’s elevators and find out they move sideways, quite rapidly by the way.

    There was a time in my life where I would recurrently dream about parking my car in a huge huge parking lot and then I would spend the rest of the dream trying to find the damn car.

    Those dreams typically made me wake up tired from all the walking looking for the car.

    Hi Ormie, thanks for commenting.
    Sideways elevators always make me think of Charlie and the Chocolate factory… It sounds like your dreams are airing out a bit of subconscious frustration!!

  4. Yes, you’re a very bright girl. I’ve been told it was related to the loss of my father at an early age.

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