Dream Date February 28, 29 and Thoughts

Dreams from February 28th:

Dream 1:

A. wrote me an email saying, "Sometimes it's really hard to love people." I was typing out my response, saying that I know how hard it is, and that I've been trying to find someone on the Internet to love but I can't seem to find them.

It's uncanny how real this dream seemed. I woke-up and had to force myself to try to remember if he'd really sent that email or if it was just a dream. In the dream, I had the same rainbow-colored background that I use on the real email service that I use to talk to him with.

I don't know what the meaning of my response is. I'm guessing it has something to do with my fruitless search to find a spiritual teacher. I know that there is (or I would hope) a loving bond between teacher and student.

Dream 2:

Before I get into the dream, let me give you a little bit of background information. A couple weeks ago, as you'll probably remember, I was suffering from the flu. My husband was ill with the flu, too, so neither of us were well enough to go to the grocery store to buy some more orange juice. I called my dad and asked if he'd mind getting us some. The next morning, he arrived with two gallons of orange juice which he placed on our front porch. I had him place the juice there instead of handing it to us because I didn't want him to get our sickness.

In the dream, my dad called to say that he and my stepmother were ill with the flu. He wanted to know if we could bring them some orange juice. In the dream, my dad lived across the street from us, in the house that was across the street from the house I grew-up in during my teenage years. I asked my husband if he'd mind getting my dad's garbage cans for him, and could he please put them on the curbside. Later, my dad showed-up with a package and told me that I couldn't open it yet. He said to "open it when you get to xxxxxxx-town", the town being where I grew-up my teenage years. When I went back inside the house, I went into the kitchen. Orange juice was spilled all over the white linoleum floor.

Dreams from February 29th:

Dream 1:

I don't remember many details of this dream, but there was a very old book laying on a side table by someone's couch. Inside of it in the back of the book were medals and pins from a soldier. The pages were yellowed so I know the book was pretty old. I was going to buy the book. But it turned out that I couldn't buy it because in the front of the book was the name "Edith", meaning that the book belonged to the man's wife, whose name was Edith.

Dream 2:

I am sitting in the backseat of a moving car. There is a Muslim boy wearing a kufi cap hanging on to the outside of the back car door, riding along. I ask him to come inside with us, and he says that he's "not allowed to". He's playing on some sort of drum. I beat on a basketball along with his rhythm. We are drumming together. Eventually he comes into the car and sits in the backseat. So he won't get into trouble, I take a blanket and wrap it around my face so that only my eyes are showing. (The blanket is a quilt my grandmother made for me in 1984. I still have it.) The boy is carrying some sort of pamphlet in an Arabic language. There are signatures all over the front of it. We want to become friends, and I ask him for his address so that I can write to him. He wants to give it to me written in pencil on the pamphlet, but a Muslim man that is riding in the passenger seat in the front of the car tells him that he can't give the pamphlet to me because it talks about secret locations. We are driving in the city somewhere, and we pass by a tall post with an electronic megaphone on it that is blaring Muslim prayer from it. There is a sign below it in an Arabic language. We drive-up to a landing beside a river. There are hundreds of giant salmon that have beached on the road, and some of them are rotting. People are walking on top of them, and driving over them in their cars.

The funny thing about this dream, is that it seemed to go on forever. Many dreams are short, but this one went on and on, and at one point I think I even became semi-lucid because it seemed as if I knew I was dreaming and that I forced myself to stay asleep so that I could finish the dream.
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OK, that's enough of the dreams. Now I'm going to just chat for a little bit since I haven't posted in five days. I was down and out again and feeling quite apathetic towards everything, having no interest in anything, not even my own spiritual development or maintaining my Internet contacts. During this time I thought to myself that no spiritual teacher is going to want to work with someone who falls into depression so regularly. My absenses would be too frequent and sometimes quite unannounced. The reason I am here tonight, speaking on this blog, is because I seem to be momentarily coming out of the fog. I am used to this constant up and down behavior, so I know only too well not to expect tonight's contentedness to last. It might be here for a few days, a week, who knows, before the depression hits again. I've tried all sorts of medications, as everyone who reads my blog knows. I seem to be what is known as "treatment resistant". For almost two months I've been weaning onto Lamictal, so we'll see how that goes. Because a life-threatening rash can develop if one weans too quickly onto it, I'm having to go very slowly, so it could take months before I'm on a therapeutic dose.

If my complaints haven't managed to lose your attention thus far, I'll continue to go on, and announce that this week I made the decision to put a pause to my career, meaning that I'll not be at work anymore. I made this decision because I am unable to maintain my reliability nor my dependability at work due to my horrible attendance record. I really hate to say that I've allowed this mental illness to ruin my life, but it's something I'm going to have to accept for the time being. I'll go from living a comfortable middle-class life to living poorly, as I did when I was going to college. I absolutely dread this, but there are no other options unless I happen to meet a millionaire who sympathizes with my sob story and gives me a windfall. In the meantime, I can only hope to muster-up enough motivation and interest to enter sweepstakes on the Internet when I'm feeling lucid enough to do so.

Thanks for the comments you left while I was away. I am going to try to respond to them tonight, but if I don't get to them, I want to get to them this weekend. I like to keep-up with my responses because it's something I enjoy doing. I certainly enjoyed reading them.

Now on to some odd thoughts that I've had the past couple days:

Do people born on February 29th celebrate their birthdays on February 28th or March 1st during non-leap years?

Why are there piggy banks? I mean, why piggies and not horsies or doggies?

I looked at my hand this morning. I thought it a marvel that I was able to observe my hand, to be aware that I was observing it, and to be aware that I was aware. How on earth did that happen?!