i haven’t felt really, *seriously* stressed out in… a long time. like since before i graduated from college. it’s been a while. i kind of decided stressing out was doing more harm than good, and talked myself out of it gradually (gradually being a huge understatement). all it did was make me feel like crap, make me stop eating (except for chocolate), and make my face break out.
there are exceptions, and those fall into the my-work-is-really-on-the-line-and-i’m-freaking-out category. luckily, i haven’t hit that point.
being stressed sucks.
but here i am… stressed out. i don’t really know why–brett is fine over there in africa, and i’m doing okay here. other than the fact that my cat may have broken his leg about an hour ago.
i think the CISSP is stressing me out–mostly because it’s $550 out of my pocket if i fail it. i think that’s worth stressing over, just a tid bit.
however, none of this even remotely comes close to how badly i used to stress out.
so why am i having ridiculous nightmares? why haven’t i slept a single night all the way through since he left? granted, some of those nights i’ve been woken up by the animals running a muck around the apartment (i seriously thought someone broke in last night, until i realized thor had just thrown the entire contents of my purse onto the floor), but this is not normal for me. i usually sleep like a rock.
i’ve been waking up every hour of every night.
and the nightmares? i don’t remember what half of them are about. you know that feeling you get after you’ve had a really bad dream, and you wake up feeling really strange? like you know it was a bad dream but you can’t exactly put it all together? every morning has been like that. i hate that feeling.
i do remember one dream, though, and i was all kinds of upset/freaked out when i woke up. i don’t know where we were or what we were doing but brett was there, and we were walking along, and all of a sudden he turned into a fish. but i didn’t seem to notice that he was a fish. i mean, i *knew* he was a fish, because i had to carry him around in my hand, but the fact that he was a fish and not a human did not matter in my dream. i don’t really know what that means, nor do i want to. anyway, he was a fish. i was carrying him around. and then he died. DIED. while he was sitting in my hands. his eyeballs were on the ground. he like… fell apart in my dream. it was completely disgusting.
all i know is, i will be glad when he is home and this exam is over with. i am very fortunate if those are the only things that i can think of that would be stressing me out right now. still, i’d like the creepy fish dreams to stop.