Sometimes I hate my dreams. I hate sleeping. I tend to hate all things that I am not very good at. Now, napping I am great at. During naps I don't have time to dream.
Last night I dreamed that Nora died. She died coming to my rescue when living with my parents was too much. I blamed myself. I woke from the dream and went straight to my email to send her my love, to let her know what she means to me.
My next dream was that I was stranded with my dad in the middle of hurricane Katrina. We had to fight our way out to safety, and on the way I tried to rescue some others. Some attempts succeeded, others failed. I worked really hard to save a pregnant woman, but only my dad and I crossed into sanctuary together. All the while I was on the phone with Joyce who was in the middle of a crisis, hating me because I couldn't help her.
Do I feel responsible for my family? Do I feel guilty for their pains? Do I want to rescue them, carry them on my back and save them from life? Yes. I just wish I could escape those feelings when it's time to sleep.
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