On One Hand

February 3, 2005

Carbon Monoxide and Drugs Dreams

Filed under: Uncategorized — ononehand @ 12:12 pm
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Last night I dreamed I heard a beep coming from the other room, and went to see if my sister’s phone was ringing (in this dream my sister was living with me). Instead I spotted the Carbon Monoxide alarm on the wall, near where her phone should be, and realized that it might be where the beep was coming from. Suddenly I felt very dizzy, the room turned into a haze of blue flashes and green dots like when you stand up too fast, and I collapsed on the edge of the bed. I thought, I need to get out of here, but knew it was unlikely that I could reach the door from where I was. I found that I was almost paralyzed. I thought this is where they’ll find me, collapsed in her room, dead of carbon monoxide poisoning, and I thought of my mother crying and of the commitments I wouldn’t fulfill. I felt myself slipping away, and fought to wake up. When I woke up I was laying in my bed and sunlight was streaming in through the window.

I dreamed I was back in high school, only a different person this time; instead of the person I was in high school I was the person I am now, who does drugs and fools around and goes to class with ridiculously obvious hickeys on my neck. There was a large group with me, people who went to school with me, walking across some surreal landscape where furniture was outside. There were white plastic benches, surrounded by trees and glass buildings, on a hill overlooking the city. We would wander over the hill, stop at a cluster of plastic benches, chill for a while, then keep going to the next cluster of benches. I had a cigarette, and was trying to blow smoke rings. I coughed and woke up.

I dreamed my parents were accusing me of doing drugs. I got angry and stormed up to my room. I found a pill of ecstasy there, and I swallowed it just to piss my parents off. As soon as I took the pill I was afraid of what it could do to me, since I’ve never done ecstasy before and I was worried I might freak out. When my parents came upstairs, they knew I had taken the pill. Other family members came over and my parents told them I was on ecstasy. I denied it vehemently and worried about what they might think of me now, since they wouldn’t understand at all.
Then I was in one of those big rooms that many of my dreams are in: the room is so big it’s like being outside, but the “sky” is a painted white ceiling, and the walls are painted white as well. Think of the room as the gymnasium from your elementary school; to 3-foot kindergarteners, a small gym could hold a whole town. To me, it seemed a mile high and a mile wide. This time there was some water in one part of the room, and a boat was floating in the water. There was a great deal of chaotic activity going on in the room; people doing things, playing sports, moving things, studying, and so forth. I was sitting on a large pile of splintered wood, the ruins of a shipwrecked boat, and I saw a guy I like. I scooted myself over to where he was sitting, and found that he was talking to a girl next to him. I said hi, he said hi, and then I realized that he liked me. I put my arm around him and he hugged me. We were watching something out over the water, and the girl who was with him said that we looked cute together. He kissed the side of my face, and our bare feet rubbed together and I laughed. He liked me even though I was on ecstasy, even though I was awkward and unusual and even my own family was rejecting me. I was so surprised that someone like him would like me.
Then I was out of the room, and the gay fraternity from CU was getting out of an RV. (I used to be in the frat but I quit for several reasons.) Another person in the frat said he wanted to fuck me, with words like “someday I will stick my dick up your ass,” and I was offended but I didn’t say anything to let him know that I was. Then my roommate put something in the microwave and the beeping woke me up.

I dreamed I was in hell. All of my dreams of hell are an Islamic hell, not a Christian hell. I guess it’s because if I were in a Christian hell I feel like Jesus would come get me, but in an Islamic hell there is no Jesus to do such a thing. Hell wasn’t all that uncomfortable, but I had this sick feeling thinking I’ll be here forever, the life I once had will fade to insignificance over millions of years and all I will remember is this awful place. The whole Universe for me will be right here. I had a feeling that hell was going to get gradually worse. I was in a small, dark series of hallways, like a maze, with several other people. The hall was carpeted and the walls where white, but looked gray because the light in there was dim. I was in my boxers, nothing else. Someone was sticking electrodes all over my body and said that if I was ever aroused I would be shocked, then another guy was sitting across from me, in his boxers also, and was told the same thing. I was praying a little, talking to God, and it felt the way you feel when you talk to someone who you know doesn’t like you but you try to be friendly anyway. I don’t really fear fire and brimstone, and the thought of all the physical tortures of hell don’t upset me. What really scares me about it is the thought that I will be there forever. Whenever I’m in any kind of pain, I just think well I’ll just buckle down and hold my breath until it’s over, but in hell it’s never over. I could think to myself, shit, now I have to get through a billion years of this, and then do it. But then, after a billion years, there’s just another billion years to go. How awful would it be, thinking there would never be any escape? I know how much it sucks to be depressed, since I’ve been depressed before, and hell would be like feeling that all the time, with no hope. Plus I’d be having one of my anxiety attacks, along with every other miserable thing I’ve felt in my lifetime. And it would go on forever. The old me would fade into the distance; when I’ve been in hell a thousand years, my eighty or so years of life will be hardly significant. I know there’s good in me right now, but in hell I’d know all the good was taken away, and I’d deserve to be there, even though I don’t understand why I deserve it. There would be nothing to look forward to. I was thinking this, I panicked and woke up.

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6 Comments »

  1. I have the same fear of being there forever, not of the pain or physical torture, but being stuck for eternity and a day.

    Comment by twistedshroom — February 3, 2005 @ 9:52 pm | Reply

  2. Well I have had those dreams, and I dont fear the pain physical or emotional. I dont even fear being there forever. I fear the lose of being me;not being able to express myself, not being able to change moods, not being able to question if what I am doing is right, not being able to ask questions I know the answer to but need to hear from someone else to be at easy. That is what I fear about any kind of a hell.

    Comment by akumahermit — February 3, 2005 @ 11:40 pm | Reply

  3. oh oh hope you dont mind I added you as a friend hope that is ok ^_^

    Comment by akumahermit — February 3, 2005 @ 11:45 pm | Reply

  4. I wonder if the beeping from the microwave was the beeping you heard in your dream. I find that things happening around me while I’m sleeping trigger weird quazi-related dreams.

    Smoking pot makes me sleepy.

    Comment by tempur_tempur — February 4, 2005 @ 12:14 am | Reply

    • The microwave beeping wasn’t the same time as the carbon monoxide dream. When I woke up from that one, I was home alone. Perhaps my cell phone had beeped.

      Comment by ononehand — February 4, 2005 @ 12:16 am | Reply

    • And I haven’t smoked any pot in over a week.

      Comment by ononehand — February 4, 2005 @ 4:53 am | Reply


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