Flying/falling

I made it to the coffee house, but I'm feeling very "blah" and unmotivated. I should do some art, but since it's just not flowing right now, I figured I'd write instead. If nothing else, I can write... right? Even if it's just to bitch about my fibro-fog, my anxiety and my lack of motivation.

Trying to remember the dreams I had last night. I think one of them was about flying, or possibly sky-diving. I know I was in the air. I had sort of a satellite-view of the landscape, looking down, with the ground getting progressively closer. I'd hit terminal velocity, so it felt like I wasn't actually moving at all, like I was stationary but being held up by a strong wind. I knew the ground was coming, though, and that I didn't have a parachute. I didn't hit the ground this time like I have in the past. That's about all I can remember.

Flying/falling dreams are common for me. Sometimes while I'm falling, I say, "fuck this, I'm not going to smash into a million pieces or get sucked into that black hole or whatever," and I fly instead. Then again, sometimes while I'm flying, I crash despite my best effort. I'm never hurt too badly, though. It's never as bad as I think it's going to be, when I first lose my feet. Am I afraid of falling? Most definitely. Am I afraid to fly? Yes, but only because it brings with it the possibility of falling. I know, same difference, right? Except it's not. Fear of flying is fear of myself, of my own inadequacies. Fear of falling is fear of things I can't control getting the better of me, getting the upper hand.

Last night's dream was a little different. I think I knew I was falling, but I didn't care, and I was enjoying the ride. Maybe somehow I remembered that I'd always be okay no matter how far I fall. Forgiveness? Vindication? Is that what I need? From whom?

FWOOSH! Wait... how did I get here, again?

Waking up is weird. No matter how much sleep I get, I almost always have a moment of panic when I wake. "Where am I? What happened?" Sometimes my brain actually rearranges the room so that it looks like somewhere I have been before. My mother's house, my dorm at Kent State, my ex's place, the last house I lived in. It's really quite remarkable. During that second or so, I am actually "seeing" my past. Most of the time, it's unpleasant, but there are times when I kind of wish I could go back, like I want a re-do. "I studied for that test I failed! Can I turn in the corrections for half-credit?"

Of course, I know that this is silly, because I am who I am for reasons.

Meh. Everything is just a little bit too much today. The lights are too loud and the sounds are too bright. At least it's a little bit warmer. I really should draw. I also really wish there were fewer people making less noise at the coffee house today. Usually it's so quiet on a Monday afternoon. Damn you, Presidents' Day.