Thanks, friends, that helps!

Especially the bit about having the memories all day and getting the wounds freshly ripped open. I’ve known so many people who never seem to be bothered by the images in their dreams or the experiences that they’ve had in them, but I live mine so completely that I can’t shake them.

When I worked at the Macy’s in Portland I had a dream that my creepy co-worker assaulted me and I had a hard time going near him for like a week. I knew he hadn’t done anything to me for real but my brain wasn’t completely convinced because it had memories of it.

The fucked-up thing is that the bad dream I had last night is like the mild form I get when I take sleep meds. If I don’t take them I get the black sentient poison storm that engulfed everything and everyone I knew and loved and then tricked me into thinking I had woken up and that everything was fine only to have possessed everyone I knew and replaced their faces with these haunting circles and dripping tar and gas mouths that could only say the storm’s name

Its name was Okapi, and even though upon waking I knew that as a cute zebra deer in Africa, I can still hear the way that everybody said it and it gives me chills

So my options are like complete unbridled Terror which leaves me gasping for air and unable to calm down, or take a med and get a slightly smaller pile on of anxiety based on daily life’s minor Horrors.

I’m going to end up drawing something about that storm. I had a very similar dream about a black demon dog with a name years ago. I feel like they must be made of the same stuff.