Do you ever wake from a dream wishing you could follow through the notion or the idea that it has presented you with, tell someone you love them or connect with someone somehow? I have had a week of this, repeated dreams, some recurring ones I’ve had for many years. I wake up with an ache, I wake up wanting to get back there, into the dream, and I grapple to hang onto it and can’t, and by dusk I have forgotten the way the dream felt, I only know that it hurt.
I’m so blank, so cool, so neutral. So pale, so dulled, so bored. I’ve been telling myself for so long now that the depot injections are giving me a norm, a stability I’ve needed and wanted for so many years. Being stable is not something I can have a love-affair with. I’m drowsy, I feel as though I have just woken up all day long. I tell myself that I can write, it’s just I have nothing to say right now, when I’ve written two good poems and a handful of workable ones this year and wrote over a hundred last year, pre depot. I can be a good wife and mother, and that means everything, but I am medicated at the cost of my work. Poetic inquiry just bursts, fold in on itself, because my mind is dulled. I can’t hold a poem, they have no pulse, no beating heart. Just slips through my hands like a dream.
I have been dreaming of someone I loved who I lost years ago. I dream that they come back though they don’t repsond to anything, they are only just alive, they won’t speak or look me in the eye, they won’t wake up. I’m amazed that I still have these dreams, clear and true and terrible. I do everything I can to try and bring them round, I slap them in the face and I kiss their eyelids and their skin rubs away and the more I try to rouse them the more they fail to respond. I thought I would have got over these dreams by now but they persist. I wake up desperate to get back there and desperate to hold onto the dream. I want so shake my husband, I want to shake someone. I want to make them see me, just open their eyes and acknowledge me, just once.
I am going to see if I can get my meds reduced. I know this will mean I’m not so stable but I want it back, I want to write, to work, to create and I want to be slapped around the face and I want life to happen to me. I am stuck, so happy with my own little world but so lost, and I’m drowning in it.
I want to wake up. Wake up. Wake up.