July, 2024

Oh my… I overslept! I honestly don’t remember when that last happened. Maybe it’s because of a dream I had — very sensual, as silly as that sounds. It was full of emotions I kind of miss. Some long-forgotten people appeared too. It’s funny how unprocessed traumas nestle in dreams (I think). One’s own monsters — sometimes disguised as someone pleasant. Confusing situations that seem meaningless, pulled from the depths of the soul or wherever. Freud said dreams are “a reflection of our hidden desires, dreams, fears, and anxieties” (Wikipedia and his devotees, though his discoveries cost much suffering and even some patients’ lives). Still, I really like his concept of the “royal road” to the unconscious. For me today, the dream was just desires :))

A very masculine, burly man appeared (an actor whose name I won’t mention — probably to avoid embarrassing myself ;) — reminding me of someone from a hundred years ago — probably why he showed up). You know, one of those senseless stories like “what if I had chosen differently back then.”

Anyway, this actor gave me everything I needed in my dream, all the things I most wanted but probably never had — a nice little ego boost for this cheeky mess. Let him have it! I always had style :) Now we fight smaller battles, though the Witch doesn’t give up and sometimes suddenly tries to attack. A nasty creature. A sleeping manipulator. A vile, sneaky bogeyman. Screw that.

Anyway, the burly angel from my dream gave me lots of attention, tenderness, and a focus on me in a psycho-physical way. He let me feel weak when I sometimes need to. He was stunning in that thick wool sweater — a tacky little picture of warmth. A trick of reason.

The dream’s finale was a brutally vivid reminder of a real situation. It turned out the Woolen Angel had someone — who, according to rumors — he murdered. Can you believe it?! I love my brain. It’s strong. Or possessed.

I don’t mention this without reason. The conclusion was… me leaving. I simply went my own way. I think for anyone who truly loves themselves, who likes being with themselves, understanding that someone’s company — to put it mildly — stops serving them, stepping away is the best way to care for their mental health, especially when it’s propped up on constant “chemical support.”

I had to learn this for a very long time. I wouldn’t be exaggerating to say it took me decades. I’m glad I get it now, really. I finally like myself — despite the Witch — though there’s still a lot ahead of me.

My beloved Collins (Mom still remembers me listening to his music non-stop while I was studying for my final exams, and now I could drink cocoa with him in the garden and hug endlessly) sings:
“What’s past is past, don’t turn around,
brush away the cobwebs of freedom…”

The past shaped me, taught me a lot, oh yes. It strengthened me. It was colorful, and I was vulnerable, pressed into “should, shouldn’t, I may, I must,” etc. Now I really know I want to live. I like it. I’m no longer ashamed to say what I need — and I understand refusals much better. Letting go of what’s not for me comes much easier now.

Sometimes the Rogue still throws opinions about someone at me, but very quickly a thought pops into my head: “you don’t really know what they’re fighting.” I’m working on better communication with my Favorite People — results vary ;)) Just recently, a lady I work with said to me: “It’s good that you call because your writing is so unusual that I don’t always understand.” Seriously :))?!

Alright, I’m off to pick fabrics — this is regarding that homage I mentioned earlier. I know, a bit of a long intro, but an important one.

Note — today’s musings were sponsored by (okay, I admit it) Ben Affleck reminding me of The Man From a Hundred Thousand Years Ago. You can laugh now. But seriously — there’s always a way out. Always. Sometimes painful, sometimes uncomfortable, but always.

Please, don’t give up!

Text adapted from https://www.tekstowo.pl/piosenka,phil_collins,dance_into_the_light.html: “What’s past is past, don’t turn around, brush away the cobwebs of freedom.”