Tag: anxiety

Wenzda’s Theme Music

Greetings to all on this day, Wenzda, February 12, 2025. Sunshine is blazing across a bold blue sky, dazzling off the disheveled snow comforter still in place around much of Ashlandia. It’s 24 F, up from 19 F. Gonna get up to 42, 43 F, ‘they’ tell us.

A gorgeous full moon visited last night. Light sprayed across the snow, throwing deep shadows around trees and houses. One of those wondrous sights that hold your attention and forces you to invest in deep philosophical thoughts about the nature of existence. At least, until the wine runs out.

Happy Darwin Day! “Charles Robert Darwin, who first described the process of evolution of species in the plant and animal kingdoms through natural selection, was born.
It is now celebrated as Darwin Day, when the common language of science, bridging language and culture, is recognized and appreciated.“ stolen from Scottie’s Playtime. A friend puts on a one-person play as Darwin to honor the man. We were planning to attend but with the rise of flu and other respiratory illnesses, we backed off that intention.

That’s Dr. Pepper Trail on the right.

I also have another lymphedema bandage session this afternoon. The left appendage and all of its accessories responded well and I may come out of there wearing a normal shoe on it. The right, which had the surgery, still had some space to improve.

Today’s song is “Goodbye Yellow Brick Road” by Elton John with Lyrics by Bernie Taupin. Released in 1973, while I was in high school, it’s one of those songs which are easy to sing along with…if you know the words! It’s like, what is he saying? Hearing the actual lyrics cause conniptions over meanings and associations. Some seem straightforward enough but others give a ‘huuuhhh?’ moment. It’s about longing to me, though, about being in a different place and time, one where you feel more comfortable. That’s why I The Neurons have delivered it to the morning mental music stream. Reading the world’s news, especially politics in the U.S., I wondered what road we’ll need to follow to survive and free ourselves of this mess. Where is the yellow brick road?

Coffee grabbed me as I was walking by and took me into the kitchen, where I indulged a cup to wash down a lemon turnover. Hope your day goes well. Stay safe out there. Cheers

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The Lost Tables Dream

This was obviously a dream about change. Anxiety. Confusion.

My wife and I were young people. We had a habit of driving to work together. We were taking turns driving. One would drive one day, the other would drive the next day. The dream showed this happening. Different cars for her and me; my car was a black sports car. Don’t know any details of it. Less is known of her car.

Although always going to the same place, part of our daily drive process was to consult on our phone about where we were going. That’s because the path changed every day. So whoever wasn’t driving was tasked with looking up the destination on the map and give driving instructions.

The dream showed this. I drove, she drove, I drove, she drove, etc. She looked up the directions, I looked them up, she looked them up, I looked them up.

Traffic was busy each day but the weather was good.

Our daily destination was a parking lot by a restaurant. We’d park near there and go on our separate ways to work. After numerous days of this, I was driving. My wife was looking up the instructions. But she was struggling with a signal and I, meanwhile, had made some guesses and found the way. She announced, “Got it,” right as we arrived at the restaurant.

But as I pulled up, I noticed that it was completely different. All of its tables were gone. The usually thriving place was completely empty.

Stunned, I told my wife, “Look. Something happened.” She was busy getting out of the car and heading to work so I repeated myself several times, further elaborating, “There’s no one there. The tables are gone. The place is empty.”

She left for work. I walked over to the area and then walked through the empty place, wondering how it had all changed, seemingly overnight. What I wondered most was, where are all the tables? They had so many tables. There was no sign that any tables had ever been there. As I stood there looking, I saw others hurryng by in the sunshine.

None gave the place a second look.

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Two Clothing Dreams

Two clothing dreams were experienced. One ended positively.

In the first clothing dream, it’s my classic anxiety dream. I’m back in the military, and oh, no, I’m not in reg. My hair needs a haircut and I don’t have my cap. We’re expected to be ‘under cover’ when we’re in most situations outside so not having your cap is a large, visible no-no.

And my hair! I was a senior non-commissioned officer. I’m expected to set an example, etc. But in my dream, I said, I can fix this.

I knew I had caps. I just needed to find them. And for the hair — show me a barber! That last was fixed almost immediately as I headed toward the Base Exchange complex. There’ll be someone to cut my hair there. As it’s an anxiety dream, you’d think I’d encountered difficulties with that, but nope! They were open, a chair was available, I had money to pay…it all went great.

Next, the hats. I went to my quarters and pawed through my gear. Yes, there was the proper cover for this ensemble selection. In fact, as I thought I knew, I had two.

Both were filthy, though. Well, hell, no problem. Soap, water, scrubbing, and they were clean and serviceable within minutes.

Dream end. Reviewing the dream, I was pleased. Had anxieties, but problems covered. Heh. Sorry ’bout the pun.

As frequently in my dreams, I was again a young person. One of my best friends during that period was my cousin, and he was in that dream. We were the same height but I was broad-shouldered while he was narrow. Within a few years, he would grow taller, becoming eight inches taller than me. As he swerved toward the right wing, our friendship split apart.

My aunt, his mother, was also in the dream. She was telling that we needed to get ready. With some fast dream talking and thinking, I realized some formal event was happening. I needed a suit and didn’t have one. Somehow I got hold of my cousin’s suit. Sky blue, the suit was a standard American classic cut but made of an unusual fabric that reminded me of a nylon scrub pad. I folded the suit up and put it in a machine that looked like a carrying kennel for animals. Withdrawing it after a few seconds, I discovered that the arms had shrunk, becoming narrow and short. The suit would now fit neither of us. It was also soaking wet, which puzzled me. It hadn’t been my intention to ruin the suit. Now feeling terrible about it, I started walking around wandering, where can I get two suits now?

That’s how and where the dream ended.

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The Writing Moment

A cat came knocking on the bedroom’s slider.

Papi the ginger blade was demanding entry back into the house.

I let him in and returned to bed. The time was 4 AM. I told myself to go back to sleep. My brain wouldn’t cooperate. Instead, I thought about going into surgery on Wednesday. I felt I was close to finishing the novel in progress. It could be done before the surgery if I have three good writing days. I wanted that. Then I ended up staying awake, writing the story in my head.

When I sat down at the coffee shop, I put those words down into the document and realized, the end.

I was inspired by the book, “Gravity’s Rainbow”. I’d read the book in the past and was just browsing, and came across some reference to it. Then I had an idea, and “Gravity’s Emotions” was begun.

Word can tell you some things about a doc. Tells me that this one was started July 19, 2024. 432 pages, 117,480 words. 9218 minutes of editing. Anyone who knows that a day has 1440 minutes knows that’s not a huge amount of time. Just 6.4 days if you do the math. 6.4 days if I’d worked 24/7.

As always, it feels a little weird to be finished. Bit sad. “Like a death in the family” a writer of fame once said.

I worry about it. Don’t know if the plot makes sense or if people will buy into the character. I fret over the ending is too pat.

I told myself when I began writing this thing, just get out of your own way and stay out of the way.

Now, with it ‘done’, at least in this phase of novel writing, I need to remind myself again: just get out of your own way.

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A Dream of Two Me’s

Weird one, where I had myself and another me. We were identical in every aspect, from age and size to clothes being worn. But, we were in two different locations.

We were much younger, like in our late twenties. Wearing off-white cargo shorts with a light blue button-down shirt. Brown hair military short.

‘I’ was supposed to be doing something to pave the way for the other me to arrive. But, panic in dream land! I had no idea what I was supposed to be doing. Wasn’t there something about pressing buttons and changing settings and selections? Yes, I was half-sure that was right, but what was I supposed to be setting? Was it the printer, television, home computer network?

None of that sounded correct and time was running out. Looking out across time and space, I saw my other self entering the room where he was supposed to be. Oh, no, but I’d not done anything yet. What was going to happen?

I awoke looking for the answers in the room. But this wasn’t the right room? What was this room?

Why, it was my bedroom. But was that where I was supposed to be? I didn’t think that was right. I was supposed to be doing something, setting things up for my other self…

As anxiety unspooled and seeped out, I calmed and remembered, oh, that was just a dream. A very real feeling friggin’ dream.

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The Anti-Anxiety Dream

Many people, including me, have experienced an anxiety dream, the kind of nocturnal event that seems to feed on the things bothering them and causes them to awaken in distress, thinking about ‘this horrible dream’. Well, last night’s dream felt like an antidote to such dreams.

It began weird, strange, and slow, with me being given clothes. The clothes were bizarre, especially the pants. White with wide legs and gold piping outlining their shape, they were made of some stiff leathery material. I was barely able to bend them. And they didn’t fit at all. Way too large.

Out on a rocky outcrop, I was supposedly doing other things but couldn’t because I put these pants on and said, “No way. There must be something else I can wear.” So I took them off and held them up, looking around for someone to talk to about my pants. Nobody seemed interested in what I was saying. I reached a point where I thought, you know what, I’m just going to toss these aside.

Someone came by and took the pants away. I was expecting them to provide me with a different pair. When none were forthcoming, I resigned myself to the jeans I wore. They fit fine and were in good shape, so I was okay with that.

Then, crack, I was suddenly lifted by a whirlwind. I’d barely began processing that when it delivered me to a piece of white machinery. It needed repaired, I saw, so, click, I had it apart. Then, click — with a blaze of yellow and red light, the machine roared to life, fixed.

I laughed with glee. Because I didn’t think I could fix it. But I did! And it wasn’t hard at all.

Fixing gave me confidence. I looked around; what else needed fixed? Bring it on.

Then I wondered about my injured foot. It has a ruptured tendon. Need to be careful, I reminded myself. Yes, because it gives out without warning, hurts like fire burning the bottom of my foot when it does, and I don’t want to make it worse before I see my doc.

A deep male said, “Don’t worry about your foot. Do what you want to do. Your foot is going to be fine. Don’t worry about it at all.”

That’s when I awoke, probably because Tucker (pronounced Tuck-ah) was singing for his breakfast. I rolled out of bed, energized by the dream still clinging to my thoughts. It left me feeling so optimistic. As I went around the bedroom doing things, an odor struck me. I almost froze, smelling, thinking, what is that? I know that smell. It’s familiar, but —

Another dream fragment returned to me. I’d been in a white convertible with a tan leather interior. I don’t know what brand it was, but it was a luxury car, and I was proud and excited about it. The car top was down. I’d just bought the car. Brand new, it had that new car smell.

And that’s what I’d smelled while walking around the bedroom.

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Thursday’s Wandering Thoughts

One of last night’s dreams included a giraffe. I don’t think I’d ever dreamed of a giraffe before. It also seemed at odds with the rest of the dream. Having written and thinking about it, I put it aside with a promise to self to look up what a giraffe in a dream might mean. This explanation came up in my efforts.

Dreaming of a giraffe is a pointer to the challenges and difficulties you’ll have to face to streamline your life.

The giraffe dream tells you to see beyond the immediate challenges. Just as the giraffe can see predators at a distance, this dream calls on you to be wary of danger.

I might be groping for straws, but this definition fit with my initial, spontaneous take on why a giraffe was in my dream.

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