I’m losing control. Coming off the rails. Shit.
I know I need sleep really, really badly. Can’t seem to get it though. Even my dream world is fractured.
I dreamed the other night that I realized I had a fish tank but I’d forgotten about it for like 8 months. When I found it it was really dirty but the fish were still alive. I fed them more than I should, and I wondered if overeating after not eating in so long would end up killing them.
Then I saw that there were skeletons, so I had neglected some of them to death, and Peyote, my turtle who I’d released negligently into the wild a long time ago was there. He was huge. He climbed out of the aquarium and he had all this moss or something all over him. I felt his skin and he was feverishly warm, which freaked me out because a turtle should not have warm skin. I put him under running water trying to cool him down, and the whole time I was thinking, I caused this. I killed all of them.
This dream really bugged me, especially because I suspected the turtle was my mother, and I worry I’m going to stress her out or give her a heart attack with the way we argue. But we’ve been good lately. Only had 1 argument the last few weeks.
The next day, I was driving around and decided to go to Mountain View and find a place to read. I was walking back to my car when I saw a store that sold tropical fish. I thought it was weird that I would be in front of a fish store when I’d had that dream the night before, so I walked in, took a look around, spent some time staring at the turtle, didn’t find any answers, then left.
Today, my mom and I had a massive argument and that always makes me feel like shit. I guess the dream was a precursor to the weekend. I wonder what’s wrong with me. She says stop caring so much and I can’t. If I did, I wouldn’t even come in anymore. I just feel like everything is a lose-lose. I can’t put myself anywhere. Stay and I feel like one day she’ll be gone and all I’ll have are these awful moments of guilt over these conflicts. Go and I abandon my team. That’s why my mind goes to such extremes to think the only way I can get out is with a drastic action.
Now I’m feeling the way I felt in my dream when I realized I was killing things with my inability to take care of things. I just feel pretty worthless, and all I can think of is wanting to be alone somewhere and not have to deal with people. Sometimes I feel like I live in a sort of purgatory–people like me, but they don’t want me in their lives. And in confident moments I don’t care, but in vulnerable moments, I wonder what the fuck I’m doing here.