I have begun to nightmare again after many many years of no nightmare activity at all. This explains my lack of blogging somewhat. I find that when I am in this mode in life, I am more tired than usual and things like writing down my feelings become more and more difficult.

At the end of the 90's, when I decided to change my life and become this current me, I was plagued with nightmares. I lived in the horrible suburbs and drove a car everywhere and weighed over 300 pounds. My dreams were filled with me driving over a cliff or spinning out of control or just falling and falling and falling. It was terrible. So I did something.

When I started losing weight and making art, my dreams changed. I dreamt of old friends and new possibilities. I saw things that would be become my new life. A life of friends who make things and shows were we sell these things at. It is pretty amazing how accurate they are now that I go back and read the old blog entries from those days. These days were rad, imagining a new future for myself. No more falling. A blog entry from November 4, 2004. The description of the museum reminds me of Crafty Bastards:

I love dreaming. I love the nonsense of it. Last night, I ran into an old friend in an art museum that was filled like a thrift store, all jumbled in piles. The art was my own and my friends' and then other things like smiles and regular things like shoes. Anyway, the old friend was Andy Smrz. Where are you Andy Smrz? Andy was talking nonstop because we hadn't seen each other in years and years and I was trying to keep up with him and the art at the same time. Then I told him the story of the time in college when we used to drive to school together, which I think was only a very short time. And one time he got the flu and I had to take care of him, which I am not even sure is true in the real world. Then Andy tried to record everything I was saying on this big platter of cotton candy. But the sound kept falling off because cotton candy isn't very sturdy. If you are reading this and know Andy Smrz, tell him I am dreaming of him and cotton candy.

Then I didn't dream at all for two years. I never slept for long enough to dream, up feeding babies or with sick kids or just working. If you don't sleep for more than 3 hours at a time, it is hard to have a dream life.

But recently, I have been finding myself giving in and going to bed before midnight, even though my work isn't done or the house is a mess or I haven't been to the gym in weeks. I just give in and go to sleep and then the nightmares begin. In one recent dream, Jeff and I just drive into the ocean. I tell him we should get out of the car, that we can just walk away from it, but he wants to save the car and then we are under the water. In another, I am trying to save the girls from crazy men with big eyes who are really creepy. In another, Rachel falls down a tunnel at the Metro and strangers in white coats have to save her. And there are the driving off the cliff dreams from before. An old foe they are.

I am not writing this so you will worry about me. I am writing this so that I can figure out how to make it stop. I truly believe that for some people dreams are a good indication of what is really going on in their life. In my life, I press on. Every day. On and on and on. Like the dream when Jeff and I drive into the ocean. I try to save the damn car, and drown, when I should just let it drift away and remember that living is more important. My dreams are telling me that my stress levels are becoming toxic. That I need to take a step back. That I do too much and not enough. That I am not balanced. That I need to find this balance.

I look forward to making these nightmares go away and thus making my waking life easier. I don't know how I will do this, but at least I am writing it down now. This is the first step. Perhaps I will blog the nightmares away.