Last nights nightmare

I had another nightmare last night.  It was very slum dog millionaire-ish.  Here goes...

I was traveling with a friend who betrayed me.  We had to stop to ask for directions but the guy I was with had set me up (unbeknownst to me at the time, until afterwards when it was far far too late).  We stopped into a  house where he said he thought could give us help pointing us in the right direction.   When we got inside and sat down on the couch I knew something wasn’t right.  It smelled stale inside, like the doors and windows had not been opened for a long long time. I didn’t like the smell inside, it smelled of fear, deceit, trouble.  The furniture was old and raggedy.  Like it had been through the Salvation Army thrift store a couple times round.  There was a middle age man and woman in the living room that had a strange look about them. They looked tired, strained and had fine lines deep through their faces, built in firm over some hard years.  They looked tired, uncomfortable but resolved. 

I didn’t like any of it. What the hell was my friend thinking bringing me here?! I tried to excuse myself but the woman hauled out a large butcher knife from under her seat and told me to sit back down and shut up.  The next thing I knew her male partner produced a syringe with some strange foul yellowish-greenish colored liquid inside it.  A large syringe about 10-cc I’d guess. He moved quickly and methodically, like he had planned it out precisely in his mind and executed this maneuver many times before.  Before I could get off the couch he plunged the needle deep into my arm, up near the shoulder, the same place where we got our grade school booster shots.  It was like I watched it all happen in slow motion. A train wreck you couldn’t turn away from but was helpless to prevent.  I watched him depress the plunger into my arm almost in disbelief, it all happened in slow motion it seemed. I felt the bite of the needle, a face-slap of reality, sting of betrayal, all in the 30 seconds that passed before I blacked out.  

I don’t know how long I was unconscious.  It could have been hours or maybe even days.  Although I lost my sense of time, I had not lost my sense of feeling, my sensation of pain, both physical and emotional.  I’m not sure which was greater.  The severity of the fear was matched by the pain that racked my body when I attempted to move.  I decided to stay still for the moment, laying down as I was, and instead to just open my eyes to gather information on my situation. Where was I?  I was still in the dingy living room.  There were soiled towels laying on the dull grey carpet but otherwise nothing was different, expect it was mercifully empty at least.  I was relieved to be alone.  I shifted my eyes down the length of my body next.  What shape was I in? What was done to me? Why did I hurt so much, so tremendously? 

My clothes were still on me, but they felt different. LIke when someone else dresses you, it feels different.  My clothes were removed I realized.  Attempting to move again I felt agonizing pain in my belly and my hands.  I lifted my hands and looked at them.  They were mutilated.  Instead of my normally slender well manicured fingers I saw a vision of digits that had been selectively cut away.  I still had all 10 fingers but half of them had sections removed. 5 of them were stumps that had half the bones removed or cut away.  They were horrific, mutilated and too painful to move.  I didn’t understand the point of the procedure.  Why do this to my fingers? My hands?  This was just sadistic, finger bones were not valuable.  Where they crazy or cruel or both?  I’d never be able to play the piano or type again. And for what reason? I didn’t understand why. 

Besides the pain from my disfigured hands there was one more source of physical pain in my body which racked through my core whenever I tried to get up.  I forced my mangled hands to raise my shirt to look at my stomach.  I knew what had happened without a doubt.  They had removed my right kidney also.  My left side was ok, they were at least sympathetic enough to leave me one I needed to live with.  They didn’t harvest all my organs at least.  But then why did they do something so cruel and seemingly pointless and profitless to my hands??  I understood them stealing my kidney in a sick greedy sense.  I could deal with that and accept that, as shitty as it was.  But I couldn’t reconcile what had been done to my fingers.  

As much pain as I was in I had to get up and get out of there.  I had felt pain like this before.  I had an appendectomy several years ago and I remember waking up in the recovery room after the anesthesia had worn off. I was post-op and had no pain relief.  The severity of that pain had burned a place in my mind and I’ll never forget it.  It was this same pain and I needed to get up and walk out of there without being able to scream at the anesthesiologist this time.  This time I was on my own and I was getting the hell out of there no matter how much it hurt.  I left that evil place and all I can remember was walking out into the night towards a better place. 

Labyrinth

This is the scene from Labyrinth where Sarah (Jennifer Connelly) defeats Jareth, the Evil Goblin King  (David Bowie) with the words "You have no power over me".   Jareth is the closest thing I can think of that personifies my bipolar sandman.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FmgmXgoBZFo&feature=related

Amygdala - its all your fault!!

I’ve been struggling with writers block for the last two weeks.  I know exactly what I want to write but every night I am dissatisfied with my results and refuse to post the tripe I’ve written. Its either boring or rambling or unfocussed or some combination thereof. I am very irritated lately. But tonight I think I can do it. I’m going to post something goddman it. This foolishness has gone on long enough.  I hope this blog turns out well.  Don't lose faith in me. 

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I think I’ve finally figured out why I’ve been having so many nightmares, and what it all boils down to.  It all comes down to my Amygdala.  Let me explain, because it took a fair bit of digging around for me to figure it out, but I am somewhat satisfied with the conclusions I’ve drawn.  I should start from the beginning which would be my most recent nightmares.

I’ve had 2 more terrifying nightmares since my last blog that I will share with you. 

In the first one, I dreamt a man (a dark unrecognizable formidable figure) was trying (very hard) to drown me.  We were in the ocean and he had his hands closed around my throat and he held me firmly underwater beneath him.  I struggled but he was incredibly strong and it soon became clear that fighting him was futile.   The only chance I had was to fake death. I stopped struggling, went limp and fought the burning in my lungs with all my might. It worked. He released his grip from my throat and I began to float away from him.  I drifted through the ocean with my life. I remember enjoying the drifting feeling very much. I drifted for the rest of that dream. 

In the second dream I was camping somewhere out in nature, I’m not sure where exactly but a jungle type of environment comes to mind. It was nighttime and I was asleep between 2 other people in a tent when the attack happened.  This time it was not a man, but a tiger.  The animal tore through the tent and very specifically attacked the 2 people sleeping on either side of me, but did not harm me in any way.  I watched frozen in horror as the tiger tore the flesh from their stomachs in long strips, exposing their bright red innards. A disemboweling, twice. There was no doubt the tiger wanted them both dead but me alive. I don’t know why.  I wish there was more of a conclusion to that dream.  I don't even know who the 2 murdered people were to me. Its all so confusing. 

While these nightmares were still incredibly vivid, filled with murderous rage and negative emotions, I’ve not been incapacitated by them the following day (like I had been previously with the dream about Kristen).  So thats a bright note in the darkness. 

I’m fed up with trying to make sense of these dreams using those online dream dictionaries.  All I can get is the logic behind a certain symbol but the specific actions and behaviors ongoing are too complex to explain.  For your amusement - a tiger is apparently a symbol of female power and sexuality.  I can understand why I might dream about a tiger, I’m a very intense and sexual woman. But no dream dictionary is able to explain why the tiger killed my tent mates by disemboweling them before my own eyes. That’s messed up.  Fuck the dream dictionaries.  I’m way beyond those.   I've accepted that. 

Answers often come when you’re not looking for them at all.  And this is what happened to me when I was settling down for the evening one night last week. I often watch PBS or A&E when I’m trying to wind down before bed. Their shows are a bit like reading a book - interesting but not edge of your seat thrilling. I used to download whole seasons of certain TV series, but I could never just watch one episode at night. I’ll have to watch the whole damn season that night, forfeiting sleep completely.  I’m like Gizmo from the Gremlins, don’t feed me after midnight or things can get out of hand... I’m digressing, please excuse me.

That night I’m settling in to watch NOVA on PBS, and its all about dreams!  
(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kqQrbF2RFQc&feature=related FYI you can watch this NOVA Dream episode on youtube over 6 clips)
I’m not sure I believe in coincidences, I think most things are meant to happen, call it fate if you want.  Whatever. But this is just want I needed.  A credible and scientific approach to dreaming.  The show discussed many different aspects of dreams (did you know that our pet cats and dogs dream too? - very cool stuff) but the most important thing I took away from the show was which parts of the brain were responsible for dreaming: the hippocampus and amygdala.  In a nutshell, the hippocampus is responsible for retrieving events that we experienced while awake and incorporates them into our dreams.  The amygdala is responsible for dealing with our emotions, both awake and asleep.  Our brain places significant emphasis on the emotional aspect of our dreams. 

When the narrator said the word ‘amygdala’ I felt like he had just sucker punched me in the guts, knocking the wind right out of me. I literally dropped my tube of lip-balm I was applying to my lips and my jaw nearly fell to the floor after it. I’m not joking. (I still need to find that lip-balm under the futon now that I think of it.).  The realization that the amygdala is responsible for emotional dreaming was my missing link.  Most normal people have probably never heard of this abstract part of the brain, but I’ve learned about it because people diagnosed with bipolar disorder have a messed up amygdala. It may actually hold the key to the disease. So naturally I was all ears when I heard it controlled dreams too. 

I’m going to try to keep the terminology simple here but there are a few things I need to explain in order to link the amygdala with bipolar disorder, emotions and nightmares, so stay with me. 

Early brain researchers had a couple nicknames for the amygdala and I think its fitting to share them with you - the brains seat of emotion, as well as, the brains seat of fear. Needless to explain much further, its the part of the brain that controls our emotional responses and our reaction to fear.  An excellent example of how important this really is, is exemplified in the Fight or Flight Response.  When humans experience a dangerous stressor its your amygdala that decides if you stay and fight or if you run away.  Inside your amygdala the neurotransmitters that deal with stress (e.g. norepinephrine, ephedrine - sound familiar??) are released and used in your body. Basically, it gets your adrenaline pumping. 

This little almond shaped part of our brain (FYI amygdale is greek for almond) does a lot of work it seems - it’s responsible for dealing with emotion, fear, stress, dreams and so forth.  So its logical to assume that if the amygdala is damaged in someway so too would be that persons reaction to emotion, fear, stress, dreams.   

Well this is most likely what happens in people with bipolar disorder. Doctors have actually scanned the brains of those with BD and observed amygdalas that are for some reason misshapen, enlarged and/or overactive. Not the nice little almonds they should be.  There is no explanation for this. Even if its cause or effect.

You may or may not remember in one of my blogs back in June I touched on the 5 neurotransmitters that play a significant role in bipolar disorder (dopamine, serotonin, GABA, ephedrine and norepinephrine).  What I didn’t discuss back then was how they were controlled by the amygdala. It seemed like too much info at the time. But now its very important to acknowledge. 

This blog isn’t meant to be all about science, but a little bit of science is necessary here to explain all this craziness. 

Yes, my madness is explainable.  There is a real physical and chemical problem in my brain that causes me to think and behave this way.  

ooohhhhhh.....if I knew then what I know now many things would be different......

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To sum up the important points: 

• the amygdala is the part of the brain that is responsible for nightmares, as well as our reactions both emotional and stressful.  
• people diagnosed with bipolar disorder have an abnormal amygdala
• people diagnosed with bipolar disorder have abnormal responses to stress and difficulty coping with emotions; they also commonly have vivid nightmares
• Here’s the frustrating catch. Brain researchers haven’t yet proven that an abnormal amygdala actually causes bipolar disorder. All they can say for sure is that these symptoms are probably rooted in the amygdala b/c thats the kind of stuff the amygdala is responsible for. But they haven’t isolated the direct casual link. Its really difficult to experiment on the human brain.  Ethics and all.  A few brain image scans isn’t enough, its still circumstantial evidence (which we all know is not enough to convict). Of course there’s animal testing but can a rat or chimp even have bipolar disorder? How would you know when a rat is manic? A rat's not going on a shopping spree or claim to be God.  Could he? lol. Perhaps my mood disorder truly separates mankind from the rest of the animals. A cruel twist for humanity!!

I’m thinking of donating my brain to science when I die so pathologists can have a good look at my brain and my amygdala. I’ll have to find a spot somewhere on the organ donor card for that specific detail.  

Hey, donating your brain is all the rage these days.  All the hockey players who ever suffered a concussion are doing it. 

Puts a whole new spin on the saying ‘Let me pick your brain’.  

Damn, that just made me think of that dinner scene from Silence of the Lambs. 

Moving on....

   

It actually makes soooooooo much sense to me now. This seat of fear and emotion in the brain, which is also responsible for dreams/nightmares just happens to be misshapen and overactive in people with bipolar disorder. If we’re having a mood swing, and our neurotransmitters are out of whack, how does the amygdala deal with sorting out these disordered emotions?  Well messed up/scary/fearful/emotional nightmares seem like a possible way the brain might be trying to sort out these emotions and thoughts.  My nightmares might not be logical because my neurotransmitters are out of whack.  I’ve been trying to find meaning in nonsense. I need to stop acting like a 5yr old who can’t handle the scary movie they snuck into.  Time to toughen up kid.  

Even though I know that I’ll probably have these intense nightmares for the rest of my life, and there will still be times I’ll wake up gripped in terror, I don’t feel so bad about it anymore.  One of the worst things about dealing with bipolar disorder was not understanding it.  Honestly, when I was finally diagnosed I was relieved because I finally had an answer for what was going on with me.  Of course I wasn’t happy to be mentally ill, but at long last I knew what I was fighting, and thats half the battle.  This is the same feeling I have put towards these nightmares.  Understanding their cause (at least in some part) actually takes away some of their power over me.  

This reminds me of a scene from one of my favorite childhood movies - Labyrinth. When Jennifer Connolly faces David Bowie (the Goblin King) and defeats him with the words “you have no power over me”. Very fitting. 

Too bad its not quite so simple as that. 

This has been a big deal for me.  I’ve never told anyone about my monsters, these terrible nightmares until now - never family, friends or doctors. They were always internalized. The first time I ever described one was the bipolar sandman blog I wrote last month. I’m not sure why I hid them away.  Maybe I was afraid of how they would be interpreted by others - I wasn’t abused as a child or witness to a gruesome act but maybe someone would be convinced I was repressing something. I did not want to deal with that. Maybe I was afraid of a doctor telling me I needed a change in lifestyle - nightmares about sexuality, men, death caused by escorting? I’m not quitting my job over a few nightmares. Maybe the best reason is simply because I just wanted to forget about them.  

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There is one more aspect of the bipolar sandman that I feel I should discuss. Then I’m done. Finito. It may actually be useful to other people dealing with BD and actually concludes this blog with a worthy end note. Here goes.  Researchers at the Psychiatry Dept. of the University of Alberta found that those diagnosed specifically with BD can use their dreams (both frequency and content of) as a predictor for mood swings (see Beauchemin & Hays, 1995, for more details).  

The researchers found that: 

- Their BD subjects dreamed least often when depressed.  

- Had dreams that were routine/mundane/uneventful when in a neutral mood state. 

- Experienced dreams that were bizarre, improbable and often featured death or bodily injury when shifting to manic states.  

How interesting. 

I took a long winding road getting here. But the view is magnificant and well worth the effort.  Now that I have a better understanding of how the bipolar sandman is created from within my abnormal amygdala I’m not so scared of him anymore.  Maybe I can also add him as a tool in my mental health first aid kit. I now have a flare - an advance alarm possibly.  To quote Metallica one more time - its all within my hands. 

Dream-Land

By a route obscure and lonely,
    Haunted by ill angels only...

http://poestories.com/read/dreamland 

I’ve been having a very Edgar Allan Poe kind of week.  A combination of nightmares, difficulty sleeping and over-indulging in TV shows with dark humor (e.g. Robot Chicken) or monsters (e.g. Face Off - Bad to the Bone/Episode 4). 

My mood music has been all Metallica as of late. I’m not a huge metal head or anything, I prefer Fiona Apple or Amy Winehouse’s style of musical expression. But Metallica has so many songs that fit my dark mood its uncanny. I referred to the Black album previously, but the St. Anger album has several songs (e.g. ‘Some Kind of Monster’ and ‘Invisible Kid’) that could have been written for me. Makes me wonder where they found their inspiration to write such work.  

I think heavy metal is largely misunderstood anyway. If people took the time to read and understand the lyrics they’d find significance, intelligence and deep meaning in there. Very comparable to the highly regarded poetry of Edgar Allan Poe or novels of Stephen King. Both Poe and King write dark and disturbing pieces but are widely accepted and appreciated by society.  Encouraged even.  

I find it confusing then that people reacted differently to my most recent dream.  A few people have stated their worries, concern and pity about the dark images in my dreams.  But how is it any different from reading and enjoying Poe’s poetry?  A&E run non-stop episodes of Criminal Minds due to popular demand, and they delve into incredibly disturbing behaviors.  Why doesn’t the audience leap from their couches, cry in outrage, demand the influences of satan be taken off TV for fear they will taint the children and send the writers off to the psychiatric hospital?  

As long as people can maintain control and perceive the difference in reality and fantasy (in other words to become delusional or psychotic), is this honestly something to worry over, or should be medicated away?  I’m not convinced.  Let’s stay calm, try enjoying my entertainment value.  

Its not wrong to explore the darker side of humanity. Its not healthy to restrict yourself to the lighter side. Peak through the rose garden, stroll down the path and just past the nursery you’ll find out where the wild things are, welcome to the jungle baby.   

I’ve always felt very comfortable discussing the dark, disturbing, deathly.  Ironically, growing up I have positive and comforting memories associated with the dark and macabre.  I lived next to a cemetery and played in it for hours on end.  I watched horror movies with my mom, she loved the classic horror genre.  The first horror flick I can remember was my mother’s favorite - Night of the Living Dead.  There were no parental controls or age restrictions on the movies my parents let me watch.  

Being a scorpio my birthday is ominously close to Halloween.  I’d have Halloween themed birthday parties where everybody came in costume. My birthday cake was decorated with black licorice and I loved it. Halloween was celebrated on the same scale as Christmas at my house.   I was even born on a Wednesday. 

Maybe now its starting to make more sense. My mood disorder, coupled with my childhood influences, has created an intriguing and unsettling form of expression. Maybe I should give writing a horror novel some serious consideration. I could do it between calls on my slow days or more fittingly, when I’m on my period for maximum effect. 

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While I'm playing psychologist, it might be interesting to consider another angle: dream interpretation.  Its widely accepted that dreams are how the unconscious mind attempts to make sense of the situations we are dealing with or struggling over.  Taking the dream literally may be pointless. I have to read between the lines and interpret the symbolism at work. 

While I have some belief in dream analysis, I don’t consider it an exact science by any means, take it with a grain of salt.  Its usually good for a laugh if nothing else. So I googled dream interpretation, found a few dictionaries and searched the emotions, objects and people that really stood out in the dream. I pasted them below:

Feelings of:

Anxiety - To dream that you are experiencing some anxiety in some affair, is a reflection of what you may be feeling during your waking life. You may have repressed thoughts,  unexpressed emotions, resentment, and hostility that are triggering your anxiety dream. This dream also denotes that you are disastrous mixing business with pleasure.

Despair - To dream that you are in despair, signifies that you will have many hardships and experience much cruelties in the working world. To dream that others are in despair, denotes that some friend or relative will be in great distress and find themselves in a unhappy situation.

Distress - To dream that you or others are in distress, represents worries and unhappiness in your waking life. Things will turn out better than you expected. You will find that your worries were unfounded. Perhaps the dream is telling you to lighten up.

Fear - To dream that you feel fear, indicates that your achievements will not be as successful as you had anticipated. You are experiencing anxieties in various aspects of your life. The key to overcoming your fear is to discuss them and deal with them openly. To dream that you worse fears are coming true, signifies your resistance to change. You are afraid to confront the unknown aspects of yourself.

Sadness - To dream that you are sad, suggests that you need to learn from your disappointments and just be happy. Try not to dwell on the negative. The dream may be a reflection of how you are feeling in your waking life. 

Objects/Symbols:

Millipedes - To see a centipede/millipede in your dream, suggests that you are letting your fears and doubts hinder you from making progress and achieving your goals. You need to stop thinking negative thoughts. You are experiencing a major setback in life. 

Bugs (in general) - To see a bug in your dream, suggests that you are worried about something. It is symbolic of your anxieties and/or fears. What is literally bugging you? Consider also the popular phrase "bitten by the bug" to imply your strong emotional ties or involvement to some activity/interest/hobby. Alternatively, the bug may be representative of your sexual thoughts. 

Insects (in general) - To see insects in your dream, signify minor obstacles that you

must overcome. There are small problems and annoyances that need to be dealt with. You feel that you are under attack. Or something or someone may be "bugging" or pestering you. Alternatively, insects are also said to be symbolic of precision, alertness, and sensitivity. You may need to organize your thoughts and sort out your values. Sometimes they are seen as divine messengers. 

Laboratory - To dream that you are in a laboratory, signifies that you are experimenting with your inner feelings, beliefs, and fears. You are testing yourself or some relationship. Alternatively, you may be going through some sort of transformation.

Prison/Imprisonment - To dream that you are in prison, signifies that you are being censored and not allowed to express yourself. misfortune will haunt you. To dream that someone else is in prison, signifies an aspect of yourself that you are unable to express freely.

Kidnapper - To dream of a kidnapper taking his victim, foretells of important changes in your life.

Killer - To dream of a killer represents the eradication of an important part of your emotional self. You may be at risk of losing who you truly are.  A killer in dreams may also represent the opposite; a healing time in your life is about to begin. You have recently taken the opportunity to speak up for yourself and stand up for what you believe in. This will end a situation in a dramatic manner.

Relatives/Family - To see your relatives in your dream, signify family issues or feelings. They represent some aspect of your own self. 

Necklace - To dream of a necklace symbolizes unmet needs and wants. It likewise emphasizes your intelligence and aspirations for greater authority and supremacy over others.

Station wagon - To dream of seeing or driving a station wagon reflects situations regarding your domestic life.

Funeral - To dream that you are attending someone else's funeral suggests that you are putting a past relationship where it belongs: in the past. You may be releasing negative emotions you've kept for so long.

Burial - To dream about a burial means that you have banished bad attitudes or behaviors and escaped from some negative condition. 

So there are all the pieces of the puzzle, or as many as I could remember, that could be defined in the online dream dictionaries I consulted. How do I put all these pieces together into a clear picture? Is this all a waste of time? Should I just go to bed?

OK I see a theme of releasing repressed negative emotions, struggling with family issues, struggling with doubt, life setbacks, life changes, dramatic ending, transformation and healing.  

I don’t know what to think about all this. It feels too general, too vague. I could apply those themes to most situations. 

Maybe I’m trying to explain something that doesn’t make any sense to begin with. 

Maybe I’m trying too hard. 

Maybe I just need to let it go. 

Maybe I should listen to Samuel L. Jackson and go the fuck to sleep. 

Bipolar Sandman

Disclaimer - this is not a very sexy blog. Its dark and deep. Different from what I've written about before. But hey, I'm bipolar, so what were you expecting? 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uY3LAFJbKyY&feature=related 

Metallica - Enter Sandman

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bg92QpjRcJk&feature=related 

Metallica - For Whom the Bell Tolls

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l8BRbM52gpc&feature=related

Metallica - Sad But True

I’m sorry that I haven’t answered my emails in a couple days but I had a nightmare. 

I don’t dream like a normal person does. I dream to the max, like how people in a TV commercial for diet soda are supposed to be living their lives. My dreams are intense - they spin effects on many different levels, somehow they drag in personal emotions from my real life into these spontaneous fictional situations, which are perceived by all my bodily senses.  A maximum dream. Its like I’m briefly visited by Stephen King on his way his from an Apocalyptica concert.  

This dream left me shaking, breathing heavy, unsure about what was real and riddled with anxiety.  I have not left my apt in 2 days, turned on my work phone or eaten anything besides Cheerios.  

I dreamt my cousin, Kristen (nearly my same age, spent much of my life with, who I loved dearly) was dead, her body finally found and returned to the family for proper burial.  When I woke up from the dream I had to stop myself from phoning her to make sure she was still alive. I needed to be sure.  Instead I focussed on taking some deep calming breathes, and calmed down. I checked her facebook page and saw that she was active recently and that reassured me enough to put the phone down. Easy does it. I don’t want them thinking I’m any more crazy than they already do. 

Another reason I wanted to blog about this was because many people fear that manic depressives can not control their impulsivity. This is not true. Yes, it can be a struggle but it can be managed.  I wish that more of my normal friends/clients could control their equally destructive drunken dialing episodes. 

Let me tell you about my dream. I highly recommend that you listen to Metallica’s Black album while you read. I’ve posted some links above if you don’t have it on itunes. 

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I had finally taken the vacation of my dreams. I was exploring an island in the South Pacific (I’m not sure which one). I had just returned from a day of tasting exotic fruit and  volcano hiking when I got the phone call that Kristen had been found. Not only had the hope that she would be found alive came to an abrupt and cruel end, but my fantasy vacation had also been robbed from me too. It never rains, it pours. 

In my dream (not in reality), she had been working as a stripper and her disappearance taken as tragic, but not surprising.  Evidently what happened to her was this - she had answered an ad to become a nanny but the person who posted the ad abducted her, tortured her and eventually killer her. Her body was found in a lab much like Josef Mengele must have had.  It was a scene out of an episode of CSI playing out in my dream.  The man responsible was not captured.  It looked like the lab had been abandoned for months. 

When I got home naturally I was upset and had to deal with other stressors in my life. It was a time when I was still at my fathers and before my diagnosis. My stepmother still hated me, and threatened that if I kept crying too much I was going to embarrass her in front of everyone at the funeral.  She pressed my father on how long I would remain a childish burden to them.  I missed Kristen so much it hurt to breathe. 

After the wake, I had to pick up my brother. I was driving an old model station wagon, specifically a 1987 Chevy Celebrity. The kind that families used before the invention of the minivan.  On the way home something grabbed my attention, I saw a man with a necklace that had to be my cousins. I knew it was hers. I just knew it. I had a chain just like it, a long delicate gold chain, with a round pendant scattered with precious gems, diamonds and sapphires. I had the same one and instantly recognized the design, felt the weight of the cool metal against the skin, felt his unease with the trinket, her aura still strong around it.  

For some reason we drove the exact same brown station wagon. I followed him to his new death lab. He kept people in cells and drawers and chains.  Some of the people he had were so starved that they hungrily ate the giant red millipedes he fed them from a brown paper bag.  And they were grateful. Nobody wore anything except for shackles made of brown leather and cool metal.  I left before I could figure out what he was doing with them. I didn’t want him to see me, and I couldn’t be late picking up my brother. All I knew was this was what my cousin had gone through all because she answered an ad because she wanted a job as a nanny because she was tired of the late hours of stripping. And don’t get caught, don’t get noticed, don’t be late. 

I left to go pick up my brother. I didn’t want to tell my father and step-mother because I didn’t think they would believe me. I knew my brother would though and I drove him to the lab.  I don’t remember much more about the dream.  I do have some sense of finality after this last part so I assume that the man was brought to justice.  Its only a dream though, so it doesn’t really matter in the end.   

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I feel like until today my blog has given you just one impression of me. I know this particular blog entry sounds awful, scary and terribly unsexy. Maybe there are some of you who think I may have spoiled BSW’s sexy passionate call girl image by writing it. But I’m all of these things. Its who I am. It was meant to explain, intrigue and help in its own way. 

From the beginning, this blog was meant to help me deal with how bipolar disorder affects my life.  Since this dream affected me and caused my behaviour to change for 2 days it was obviously significant and I needed to think about it.  So it was important to include this entry too.  The BSW blog is primarily for myself, but with the encouragement of a friend I thought that it would also be good to share this with others for its potential to educate, advocate and entertain. I’ve shared my bipolar sandman with you for all these reasons. I hope you can handle it, if not perhaps you should work on building up some inner strength, tougher skin and a broader mind.   Just a suggestion, nothing more. 

I see just as much ugliness in the world as I do beauty. This is probably why I try to focus so much on the goodness and beauty in life, and have chosen a job that can spread pleasure. 

I feel better now.  Writing this out in black and white has helped me digest it and I don’t feel so incapacitated by it anymore.  Its been a couple days. I think I might go for a walk,  have an ice cream and turn my phone back on.