previously unimagined levels of cliché

Sometimes the brain fog clears a little and I have a sensible idea. We’ve learned to celebrate these moments, to act on them promptly, or at least write down the idea for future attention. We know there’s no guarantee that thought will come back in a coherent form, so we run with while we can.

My fellow volunteers have become used to odd “I’m just thinking about this…” emails at strange times, and they bear with me in meetings as I think out loud, slowly working through the stages.

My mind is neither as quick or as sharp as it used to be, but I take comfort that it does have these bursts. I’m rarely as frustrated by the cognitive disfunction as I was in the beginning.

However, there are times I am horrified at the mush that is my subconcious. I’m bored with dreaming about work, 6 years after I went on sick leave.

I dreamt I met broadcaster Lauren Laverne and was totally starstruck (highly likely). Sadly, I was also so busy trying to tweet about meeting her that I couldn’t actually talk to her. I wasted a chance, even in my dream. Have I no oomph in me at all?

The dream where a friend was going out with a footballer, caused me to wake up Spurs Fan, I was laughing so much. There were tears of laughter at 5am. Of course, when he asked what it was all about the following lunchtime, I had no idea at first.

A few weeks ago I dreamt about the old man. I woke up pleased- he doesn’t often get a dream all to himself- before the rest of it dawned on me. Part of the dream involved me cleaning the cooker after milk had boiled over.

People, you would not believe the 5.30 am rage that was induced. Crying about spilled milk? That’s how my mind works? Really? My deepest, darkest unconcious works on the level of tired cliché? Years of ME have finally killed my mind, huff, puff, blow the house down. It’s a wonder I didn’t wake the house as I turned over and over for an hour, trying to deal with the horror of having no edge to my mind at all.

The cold grey light of dawn came and stayed. I slept and slept. My mind hasn’t dared to hold on to the dreams since.

I may not have the energy to knock my mind into shape, but I seem to have scared the subconcious into silence.

.

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16 thoughts on “previously unimagined levels of cliché”

  1. Interesting perception of your own dreams!
    I often dream about futile pursuits and minor frustrations, as well as scary scenarios – and I feel dreams are our way of sorting out the detritus! I also sometimes dream about writing and being able to start a story and write it all through to the end. Only in my dreams!

    It is perfectly evident to me that your mind is not mush.

  2. Yes, but you weren’t crying over the milk, so it’s not a cliche at all. And you had a dream with Lauren Laverne in it, which I can only dream of having.

  3. From here, this is a ‘flash of genius’. You freeze framed it no question about it. A huge grunt! (you’ll have to read an old post of mine if you want to understand the ‘Grunt’ thing).

  4. Love this. Dreams with thin panic and sinking expectation, yet such a depth of feel. That happens to me when I’m either losing my mind or need to write something, or both. And crave those dreamless nighttime holidays. Also? I would cry about cleaning up boiled-over milk. Just the memory of the smell of it, milk on the burner and scalded to the pot (*shudders*). Nothing cliché about that!

  5. Your awareness of subconscious thought would indicate to me that you have many flashes of tremendous insight. I think you must struggle some with the fact that your fatigue and symptoms hit so randomly…that would be hard to never know when it’s going to be a good day, or a really tough one! You articulate the experiences very clearly! oxo Debra

  6. I have recurring nightmares about chewing gum. Doesn’t sound distressing but it is. In these dreams the gum starts to breakdown into yucky little bits and when my dream self tries to spit it out it won’t. Instead it seems to expand inside my mouth gagging me and smothering me. So, naturally I shove my hands, my entire hands mind you, into my mouth and begin pulling out the gum, but it has then become like a never ending taffy, which pulls and pulls and pulls, but there is always more. Sometimes, when the dream is very bad it also sticks to my teeth so that while pulling the gum my teeth rip out with it. I always seem to wake up afterwards in a panic and have a crummy day.

    Needless to say, I don’t chew gum anymore.

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