Dreams of Sleep
This past week all my dreams have been of myself sleeping.
In one of these dreams I collapsed into bed exhausted, fell deeply into a sleep so heavy that I crushed my limbs under the weight of my body as I lay in a contorted position.
In another dream I was dragged out of what I hoped would be a peaceful and restful sleep by a brass band playing on my front doorstep, while children in costumes of pilgrims ran around the house, knocking on its windows, trying to draw attention to the placards which they were holding – I have no idea what those placards said, they seemed blank to me, they were garishly coloured and hurt my eyes.
I stumbled outside, grumpy and bedraggled, and asked the seeming leader of this happy-clappy mob to have some consideration for others – meaning me – and take the cacophony elsewhere. But the band leader was deaf to any other sound except his own. He was on a mission to spread his word and his sound, which to him was important and positive, to all those whom he viewed as being unenlightened, unimportant and negative.
His need to be heard and listened to by others was so great and desperate, that he obliterated and invalidated other sounds and voices. He only heard others when it served him to hear them, and he only heard what he wanted to hear. Others said what he decided they had said, not what they actually said. Their words became a podium for him to trumpet on… and on… and on… and on.
He towered over me, pompous and sure of his superiority. Refusing to acknowledge me other than as proof that he was right. I was an objectionable objecting object to him.
I thought… I’m too tired to deal with this shit. So I woke up and banished him and his noisy mob.
Interpreting this dream and the others which were similar is easy. I’m really tired, not just physically but in every way possible. I know you know what that is like.
Sometimes I think that global warming and all its variations are just a giant metaphor for the human condition right now. We’re using up all the resources of the Earth… we’re using up all the resources within us, of the earth inside of us… and we can’t replenish what we’re using because we’re moving too quickly, there’s no time to stop and rest, recuperate. Everyone is exhausted and so is our planet. We need to sleep, but we can’t… there’s no time for that and even if there was time for that, there’s too much noise.
On a personal level…
When I’m this tired, several things happen.
1 – My dyslexia gets worse. A tired body means a tired brain. Or a tired brain means a tired body. Either or, both.
The wiring of my brain is weird already, but when I have energy I can manage it to a degree, when I have exhausted my energy it can do whatever it likes and weirdness goes into overdrive.
I can’t actually read or see properly when my dyslexia goes haywire. My focus goes. The messages between my eyes and my brain get confused and it’s a bit like a game of Chinese Whispers.
However just because on faculty is disabled doesn’t mean other faculties aren’t enabled, sometimes they’re enhanced. I may not be able to trust what I read, but I can trust what I feel, and often what I feel is more precise than what I read. People can control what they say and the way the use the words to say it, but the feeling, the energy, which glues those words together is something which is much harder to control.
I sometimes see things far more clearly when I am unfocused than when I am focused.
2 – My ability to tolerate… anything really… goes out the window. I’m pissed off central. If you don’t like me when I’m being my normal self, you certainly won’t like me when I’m tired-grumpy.
I don’t put up with the shit (what I consider to be shit which is pretty much anything that rubs me the wrong way) which I would normally be understanding about and excuse. My excuse generator breaks down and I don’t see any reason to make excuses for those who don’t respect the fact that I am a human being just as they are and find life difficult and painful just as they do. That I am busy just as they are… so why should I drop everything for them, especially if they don’t reciprocate.
I notice things which I would normally shrug off and I get very – I’m rubber and you’re glue. If you invalidate me, that invalidates you. And don’t try to explain yourself, excuse or justify yourself. You’re not listening to me, why should I listen to you. You’re expecting to get… what you don’t give.
If you criticise me… I’m going to look at you with a critical eye. Turn your criticism back onto you because you drew my attention to it. And I’m grumpy. So your criticism had better be well thought out, constructive, considerate, and intelligent. If you’re the smartest guy in the room telling everyone else they’re stupid, you’re going to end up being the only person in the room. The stupid people left because they’re smart enough to not want to be around you. If you put people down to build yourself up… you’re still standing in the same spot, you just think you’re higher. Enjoy your solitary exalted superiority, the air is rare up there… hope you remembered to bring a gas mask to protect you from the toxic fumes of your BS… don’t light a fire to keep you warm, explosions happen… you might need some oxygen too, but I’m not really sure I care if you survive. Besides you know all of this, and are well prepared, well armed against all the assaults which you perceive, defending yourself and your fragile ego against all the attacks someone as perfect as you is bound to receive on a constant basis from all of us inferior beings… things. Sorry, I forgot, as I’m infinitely misinformed, that you’re the only one who exists, thinks and feels.
Well done for tearing the wings off of someone whom you consider to be an insect. It’s funny how much those insects seem to annoy you considering how unimportant you have made them out to be.
Insects are an intrinsic part of the ecosystem which we humans need to survive… just saying, is all.
We’re all equals. The same, yet individually different. Not better than, not even worse than. Different. Equal. Human… very human, capable off all things of which all humans are capable. Some of us know this, are aware, aware of ourselves and of others. Some of us… choose not to know this. Fair enough, just don’t expect those who do know it consciously to agree with your choice not to be aware of it consciously.
Your shit… is your shit. Mine is mine. I’m not accepting yours just because you don’t want it and want to pretend you don’t do something as ordinary as having a poo, and I don’t care if yours is made of solid gold. That seems as though it would hurt. So your pain may indeed be greater than mine… that doesn’t nullify what I feel.
4 – I mean 3 – I become intensely and startlingly aware of the kindness of others. The little things which mean so much and which outweigh the big things which seem to mean so little in comparison.
If you offer me a slice of your orange… I may burst into tears and vow my eternal allegiance to you. I won’t do that, but I may feel as though that is what has transpired between us.
In conclusion… having edited out much of what I might have said in this post, but still thinking it… what I’ve learned this week, from the happenings and non-happenings within it, from dreams of sleep… is…
I can wake up from this… can you?