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Blargh. Been a bit off lately due to some fatigue. Probably depression (holidays suck around here - too many people died around them), the weather (mother nature hates us all), excess blood cells (yay, polycythemia!), or maybe a bit of all of them.

Finished up the last PC for the Aeon "V-Team" today - well I'm FINISHING up the PC. Still need to use Vehicles to knock out a battlesuit. I need to also chart plots and stuff, but that never takes me long. I do have some troubles:

1) I need to stat out a "rewind time" power.
2) I need to work up some other time powers.
3) I need to create some orichalcum weapons and a shield.


I woke up late today from a twisted dream. In it Nimbus and I were sitting on a park bench staring at the sun. There was a clockwork frog sitting next to us with three clockwork flies. Then, sunday the sun *shifted* 180 degrees and we were...somewhere else. Like in the shadows of the real world, but not. Then Nimbus began to speak to me "Oh, boy. You're not supposed to be here." I of course, freaked out because my cat was talking. Then a man in a white rabbit head/mask appeared with a pocket watch.

"Finally. A successor," it said and removed the mask. It was just a guy. He explained that I could see the cracks in things and that was how the light got in (Leonard Cohen in my dreams, man.). That the world was full of cracks that let you travel to other dimensions. And that's when things went CRAZY NUTS. Somehow, the White Rabbit took me into the fourth dimension and I was a hyper-fractalized being spinning in and out of existence. Then we went through a door and into this...place. It was some sort of pocket dimension filled with knick knacks from all over the world and time. WR explained that he wasn't the first White Rabbit nor was the man before him. It was a title passed down as was "the Alice" (but he never explained that in the dream). His job was to keep the dimensions separate but partially conjoined. Since I saw the crack if was now my job as his successor to take up the mantle. Then he showed me this room where everything was two-dimensional and I became two-dimensional and then another room where I became one-dimensional. Just a point in space. It was so disturbing that I woke up with a start and took a while to get back to sleep. Crazy right?
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So if you follow my twitter stream you know that I suffer from night terrors. Last night I dreamed that my grandmother was alive again and I was talking to her while I sat on her bed. Then she started to decay before my very eyes and I “woke up” screaming. Rushing down the hallway I went to check on her and she was fine. Sitting on her bed we began to talk again. When I realized I was dreaming I woke up screaming so loud they heard me two streets away (my windows were open).


I’ve heard lots of different reasons from doctors why I have them. No one can decide if it’s PTSD (which I have in its mildest form) or if it is a physiological issue. I’ve had night terrors since I was four and NO ONE can tell me why. My family and friends (especially my mom and @sigynlocke) have dealt with my screaming in the middle of the night with stoicism calmly rousing me from slumber with a gentle shake or proffered words. Sometimes they are so bad my already bad insomnia kicks into overdrive. When my Dad died in April 2007 I didn’t really sleep again till sometime in the summer of ’08. I ran on snippets of sleep, coffee, energy drinks, and NoDoz. When I DID sleep more than an hour or two at a time I’d be screaming for “them to let him come back.” I missed my Dad so much it nearly killed me.  It wasn’t until I found a letter he had sent me the year before that the nightmares lessened in intensity. Despite its incredibly personal nature I’d decided to transcribe a part of it here:




Christopher,


                Are you doing well? Both Sharyn and I are worried. We haven’t heard from you in a few weeks and fear you might have tried to hurt yourself again. Have the nightmares started again? Are you sleeping? You know you can come back here if you really need to. Our door is always open to you – you are our son, my son. If only in spirit and not blood. Remember how we talked about you writing professionally? I still think it is a wonderful idea and you’ve the right temperament for it. You’re imaginative, inquisitive, and entirely too bright for your own good. You’re also impudent, impatient, and argumentative. But those will lessen with time. About that other thing... you can’t be sad all the time, son. The sky will open up and the sun will shine through. So if you are having the nightmares again because of that, cry, wipe your tears away, and write. Write because it’s what you want to do. Write because you’re good at it. Write because I think one day your name is going to be known far and wide. Because in the end your dreams aren’t just a curse. They are also a blessing. Let the tears you shed now be the ink of your words later.


                Now, about the pool…


Gawd, I read that letter and it makes me tear up. The truth is I’ve done many things to try to escape the pain my nightmares have brought me. I started drinking when I was 12. The alcohol-induced slumber would drown out the worst of my dreams. By 14 I was a few steps away from a full-blown alcoholic, sneaking liqueur from my stepfather’s stash. @siygnlocke eventually noticed and told me to stop or she’d not talk to me anymore. I stopped. I tried other things after that but nothing really helped. The nightmares always came back. Eventually, @signylocke helped me to learn to meditate and gain some measure of control over my dreams. She helped me build the “walls” in my mind that I still use. It might sound hokey but the meditation really helped. Sometimes though, those walls are overwhelmed. Last night the onslaught of guilt I feel over my grandmother’s death laid siege to my psyche. Some of those fears got past the walls. I don’t know if I can stand another year without sleep like what happened when my Dad died. Hopefully, it won’t be that bad. I’m a lot less insecure now then I was then. My support network is also much bigger and includes people I can reach at any time via the internet. For someone with my peculiar set of problems a support network is vital. Some people don’t even know they’re helping me. And strangely enough, that helps too.


Till then, I got dreams, dreams to remember...




 



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C. R. Rice

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