Sleepless Dreams
2025-12-12
I had another extended hiatus. Last weekend was the final of my best friends' weddings. Once that was all said and done, I got sick and have been dealing with that for the past week. I've mostly been sleeping all day and dealing with horrible sleep during the night. I've been having the kind of sleep where it doesn't feel like you're getting any rest—just dreaming. I've felt like Rust Cohle from True Detective, basically.
So all that is to say, this week has been less than stellar. I was too tired to do anything productive or engaging. Well, I was too tired to do anything at all, really. Most days I woke up, did my morning routine, and was so tired that I immediately fell back asleep. There are lots of periods in my life where this happens, so strangely enough it's something that I'm just used to at this point. A lot of my life over the last few years has just been spent in bed, usually as a result of depression. I don't even scroll on my phone anymore. All I do is sleep or stare at the ceiling.
Last night I had another cruise dream, which is a recurring dream type I have. I have a lot of dreams where I am in some kind of transit, like a cruise or a plane. There's always a feeling of being in between worlds. I genuinely don't like having dreams anymore, though. There's too much scary shit that happens in them and I just wish that I'd fall asleep, not remember any of my dreams, and wake up. But for some reason, I've always been a strong dreamer. Unfortunately though, strong dreams don't always equate to good rest. If anything, stronger dreams typically correlate more with poor rest.
More than anything though, I feel as if my brain is just not firing off right over the last week. I've been struggling more to make coherent sentences even in conversation. Thoughts feel more airy and less solid. It feels harder to think. It's a tough thing because I want to keep writing here and pursuing my other projects, but there's been a weird stalling in my cognition.
That frightens me.
I could have everything I'd ever want, but it still wouldn't satiate my internal world. I could have my dick sucked every night, a yacht even—but none of that would do a thing for me. In that same vein, I could be homeless and starving, but still feel the same as I do now in a more comfortable environment. My capacity for joy is so much more limited than it used to be, which makes life harder to live. I don't want to be ungrateful for the things I have or take any of my blessings for granted, but I still feel the need to acknowledge that I am on a different playing field than the average individual. I am not in a position to seek grander goals or achievements. None of that would satiate me. The emptiness I feel would persist regardless of what happens to me externally.
Weirdly enough, there is a silver lining to this. I see through essentially all bullshit. It's harder for others to take advantage of me. Overall, life feels different for me than the average person. There is nothing to be gained, nothing to be lost. I know that no matter what happens, I'll get my daily bread, and that's enough for me. Everything else is just a bonus.
It's all the same dream anyway.