Dreaming in Reruns

                                                                                                                   Dumbledore always gets it.

                                                                                                                   Dumbledore always gets it.

Right before I go to sleep, I try to think about what I want to dream about that night. Whether it be about a guy or a funny memory or something I wish to happen that weekend. I do this because I suffer from pretty bad nightmares and sometimes this exercise helps keep them away. Last night, however, I had no such luck because right before I fell asleep my brain decided it wanted to think about every interaction I’ve ever had with another human being.

On nights like this, when I can’t sleep and my brain won’t stop going, I tend to let it run. I want to see what it comes up with and try to figure out why I’m thinking about this specific thing right now. When my brain decides it wants to stay up, it thinks about three major things: Death, Embarrassment, and Anger (sometimes all three of these things interconnect).

For death, my brain goes back over every death I’ve experienced starting with my Grandpop when I was 13, going through my friend’s parents, to great Aunts, and finally on my most recent one with my Mom’s cousin. Usually my brain likes to revisit the funerals, think about how people handle them, how people grieve compared to how I grieve. Not saying one or the other is better but really thinking about it for the sheer fascination of how everyone is different in this department.

The other part of death my brain likes to think about is future deaths. Sometimes when I can’t think of anything else to write, I write eulogies for people I know. Sounds morbid I know but when you have writer’s block and can’t think of anything creative to write about, you write about what you know. I know my people and I know why they’re amazing, so I write their eulogies…Christ, that sounds terrible but whatever it’s what I do. I probably think about death more so than most people, not really sure why. I read a lot of books involving death as a teenager, right after my Grandpop died, trying to understand it or trying to deal with it, who knows? I think a lot of it has to do with the fact that if I think about death a lot, if I picture the funerals of the people I love, if I can fully transport myself into that situation years before it ever happens, then maybe when it does happen I’ll be prepared to deal with it. I know that’s not logical or true but it’s how I try to justify it to myself. Think about it, analyze it, deal with it and I’ll be prepared for when it happens.

After running through all the death, my brain said, “Let’s have a marathon of all your most embarrassing moments!”

                                                                                                                                 Mulan- My favorite

                                                                                                                                 Mulan- My favorite

Oh goody, my favorite. For those of you who don’t know me, my embarrassment bar is set very low. If I say something even slightly stupid, I remember it YEARS later and it plays over again in these horrible brain montages of my life. If I DO something embarrassing, act moronically or somehow end up in a situation where I look stupid, I never forget it. My brain starts with something little like, the time I cut my own bangs in grade school. Then we move onto bigger things, the time I tripped and fell in front of a bunch of people…oh wait, that’s happened multiple times and my brain shows me each and every time.  But to me, the most embarrassing things to happen to me in my life are when I say something and immediately regret it. No one else may notice or think what I said is ridiculous or stupid but I do and it silently tortures me for so long. You would think for someone who considers every situation from every angle and stages conversations in her head constantly would be able to predict the outcome of anything she says. Incorrect. A lot of tossing and turning and slapping my hands over my face to try and force away the memories, my brain moved on to anger.

Anger is a tricky one.

Most people think if I start running my mouth, that’s when I’m really angry. Incorrect. When I’m running my mouth, I’m annoyed, I’m ticked, I’m a bit peeved. It’s when I become silent, it’s when you cannot get a word out of me, that’s when you should worry. That’s when my anger has reached a level so high I cannot verbally communicate it with someone. I have no problem saying how I feel, granted I prefer to write how I feel but if you want me to say it, I will. Very easily. So when my words stop, when my silence is the only sound filling the room, that’s when I’m done. Big fights, really big fights, I’ve only had with a few people over the years. And even those fights, only one or two have ended with me never speaking to the person again. Most people might reflect on those instances and regret cutting those people out, I truly do not. I know who is toxic to my life and who isn’t and I do not regret ending relationships with certain people, not even a little. Do I wish things could have turned out differently? Of course, everyone does but I wouldn’t go back and change what happened.

Death, embarrassment, and anger. Over and over. Round and round. Until next thing I know it’s 4 in the morning and I’m still awake. I know why I pick the worst reruns of my life to go over. I’ve felt weird all week. You know those weeks I’m talking about. The ones where every little thing someone says annoys you.  Little things just piss you off and then you think about all the little things that happened this week and it becomes one big pain in the ass so you’re just constantly saying over and over again, “I hate people”. Or is that just me? I think I uttered that phrase a hundred times this week. It happens when I spend too much time on TheDodo.com and find myself loving animals way more than I like humans.

It’s difficult to explain why I was like this all week. Sometimes I think my life is going really well and yet I feel nothing towards it. What the outside world considers having your life together, doesn’t always feel that way to the individual. Sometimes looking at what you have just reminds you of everything you may not have in your life. Don’t get me wrong, I am very grateful for everything I have and I work my ass off to have it. There are those one or two aspects of life though, they are always just out of reach and of course those are the ones we choose to dwell on. Not all the time, I’d be unbearable if I was like this all the time. But nights like last night, after weeks like this past week, it all catches up and I have to work through it in order to get back to being grateful and happy.

 I was in a funk and last night my brain wanted to go through every possible reason why. I’m not sure I figured it out completely. I think it was really just an excuse for me to write because I haven’t in a while. But I did pose a very important question to a few of my friends this week. I asked, “Do you think it’s impossible to be completely happy?” A buddy of mine gave me the best answer. Here it is:

“No way. I mean you’re never gonna be happy all the time. We’re not robots. I think life’s all about the feelings we get and all the stuff that makes us human. If happiness outweighs everything else then I think that’s technically complete happiness.”

And with that, I hope you all have a really great weekend.