I had this dream shortly after I went home from the hospital: it was all about meeting people, riding in their cars, and looking for water (inside a boring storefront on a boring street was a beautiful Roman bathhouse).
At the end, I was sitting with a group of new friends talking with them, and about to take a swim in a massive indoor pool. I woke up and realized I was alone and my body was still broken, and I was in a very melancholy mood the rest of the day. It was one of the first instances of the PBA ( or “emotional incontinence“) that would keep coming back for years to come; I literally found myself crying that the dream was just a dream.
It’s been a couple of years, but the memory came back to me and it was still upsetting that it wasn’t real. I wished very much that I would have it again. I guess loneliness and my non-functioning body are still big concerns of mine, even if I don’t talk about them much.
At the end, I was sitting with a group of new friends talking with them, and about to take a swim in a massive indoor pool. I woke up and realized I was alone and my body was still broken, and I was in a very melancholy mood the rest of the day. It was one of the first instances of the PBA ( or “emotional incontinence“) that would keep coming back for years to come; I literally found myself crying that the dream was just a dream.
It’s been a couple of years, but the memory came back to me and it was still upsetting that it wasn’t real. I wished very much that I would have it again. I guess loneliness and my non-functioning body are still big concerns of mine, even if I don’t talk about them much.
