Dear Diary (III)

This has been a weird week. I've been all over the place emotionally. I've tried to write but everything I came up with was crap. Or it was to me. I misplaced my happy this week. I withdrew from the matrix that is the internet. I simply logged off. I did not tweet, refused to tumble, and blogging was a no go. I ignored phone calls, emails, and texts. In a way, I took a perpetual timeout. I couldn't function. Did not want to deal. So I didn't. I avoided the people who knew me best so I didn't have to own up to my mood. On all fronts, this week was a big fat epic fail.

It's just been a very long week. I'm tired, physically, mentally, and emotionally. I have been sleep deprived. I'm just over it. I also gave up on the whole grin and bear it routine. I sat in my living room with the tv off and read. When the tv was on, I was oddly obsessed with the Casey Anthony trial. I attempted to write many times. It always ended up in the same arena. Writing has been the last thing on my mind. Probably because I know that my heart is in my writing. When I'm happy or sad or confused it always shows in my words. It's the gift and the curse. I've avoided writing for this reason alone. I don't even know if this makes sense.

I am realizing some truths about myself that I'm not too happy about. I need to work on my reactions to things. I like to think I'm nonchalant about things. But, the reality is I take things super personal. People hurt my feelings. For the most part, I'm able to hide it from the world. But, when I'm home, it breaks me. I found myself crying on the bathroom floor twice this week. Broken slightly. I had a moment, it lasted almost a week. I'm better now. Not completely fixed but I'm working on it. Now, if I could just fall asleep at a decent hour and sleep the whole night through, I'd be golden. Anyway, this was my hyper emotional, super reflective, uber weird week. I was not prepared for it. I did not enjoy it. As a matter of fact, I hated it. Everything happens for a reason right? I'm patiently awaiting the why of it, Diary.

Sweet Dreams or Beautiful Nightmare?

Nightmares: Are they real or figments of our imaginations? I love my dreams. They are the most interesting play by plays ever. But, nightmares disturb me. I don't like to be scared, especially not in my sleep. It's not a great feeling. I toss and turn all night. I also wake up a lot when I'm having a nightmare. It's just a very weird, thankfully seldom, occurrence. Nightmares are just not a fun time for me. It makes me very conscious of my surroundings and people. I do not like that feeling at all.

I hate the "someone is after me/chasing me/trying to kill me" nightmares. They are the worst. I always feel like the white girls in every horror movie. I can never run faster enough or out maneuver my usually unknown assailant. And, my nightmares always seem to be never ending. I don't ever die. But a killer is always in pursuit of me until I wake up. Once I'm awoke, I feel exhausted. It's as if the nightmare was real. Sometimes a tad bit too real for me. I've awakened with words muscles and unexplainable bruises. That makes it a little too real for me. The crazy things is its never Freddy Kruger or Michael Myers or Jason after me. I always feel that it's someone I know.

My nightmares tend to stay with me for some time. I can't shake them off. It's a habit I wish I knew how to break. I know one must take the good with the bad. But I really believe that I can do with out nightmares to the rest of my life. Life can be hard enough. I don't want to have to fight the world during the day AND as I sleep. Even Superwoman needs a break, right? Do your nightmares bother or scare you? What are your nightmares about? Share with me.

Beyonce featuring Nicki Minaj & Lil Wayne "Sweet Dreams remix"