Reconciling Saints

The night before, I started dreaming again... I dreamt of children enslaved in mines, learning how to manipulate elements, elementary school days (and daze), being a cunning child and transforming in accordance to what changed around me by using what I had learned.

Last night I dreamt of friends and college. I spoke with Maile and Amandazon and nearly tackled Stephen from where I was sitting, almost pulling down his pants. I dreamt of the last apartment in college that Leigh and I shared and the parties we had there with everyone in attendance.

Dreaming means that I'm resting. It's like watching TV but seeing the show that my mind puts on when just left to rest.

Me? I'm comfortably in bed watching it. Some scenes I see, some I don't. I flitter in and out of the show, just like I would if I were sick and lying on the couch watching movies. Consciousness to unconsciousness. Floating. Resting.

I'm learning to be me again. I still hate the routine, still hate that there aren't enough hours in the day anymore. I'd still like to sacrifice sleep to do more of what I want to do. I can't. I know I can't because then the manic comes... and after that, the low Low.

I really miss talking to Stephen though. REALLY. I miss the things I loved about life before the meds.