Awake for at least two hours. Sense of turmoil. Spent time in bed trying to understand what is taking place.
First came a dream of which I only have fragments, the final frames before I awoke. The image is that of a wide curved bridge across a chasm. There is a person running across the bridge toward the viewer. The viewer is high above the bridge so that the curve of it is visible as is the whiteness of the concrete from which it is constructed. I thought the person who is running is me but I am now uncertain of that. It is possible it is someone else, perhaps a female figure.
At this point the dream image, or my memory of it, becomes slightly confused. Something happens. There appear a group of men in dark suits who have the intent of throwing the running person off the bridge. There is a second associated image which is that of a thousand white arrows descending toward the running person and somehow carving them up into a series of parallel slices. There is a third associated image which is that of one of those egg slicing devices which also operates on the running person and renders her / him in slices which the dark suited men then proceed to catch and throw off the bridge. I never see anyone or anything being thrown off. I wake at the point of the milieu. I am in some kind of turmoil at these events.
My first response was “What the heck?” This is not a common dream. I can think of no other like it. It left me with a degree of physical turmoil which was also unusual. I will normally open my eyes and then have a period of getting “started up,” of bringing myself to wakefulness. I am forgetting this morning’s events faster than I can write them down so all of this description is suspect, but I believe I sort of jolted awake with the afterimage of the dream in mind, and then began the attempt to unpack it. This blog entry is the result of that unpacking.
Turmoil
Apart from the dream, I have no current awareness of turmoil. My sense is that since the accident my emotional states have been relatively subdued. Again, I restate my mistrust of myself as an observer, but my first sense of emotional presence occurred approximately two weeks ago. It seemed a very strong and positive event and I was very glad of it, as it suggested I was in some way reconnecting with my prior self.
Conflict
There has been some emotional conflict in regard to this Monday. There is a brain concussion group meeting taking place. While I feel very glad to see N and J and F and M, I have also felt resistance to attending the meeting itself.
Interpretation
I spent some time trying to unpack, or understand, this sense of conflict. In January 2015, I started working for W in an unpaid capacity. I experienced two significant problems: 1) Being completely overwhelmed by technical knowledge demands despite the fact this is exactly how I made my living in 12 years with Gargantua Computing; 2) Left side shoulder arm pain that was so piercing that it made it painful to get dressed / undressed and caused concern over my ability to drive. I ended my participation in W’s work for this reason.
I then had the thought of attempting to work from home on a web programming project. I had programmed extensively about 30 years ago and web technologies are relatively simple and straightforward. I had two distinct opportunities: 1) a project that might result in a commercially viable venture; 2) a second concept related to mTBI rehabilitation. To advance the second project, I made a presentation to a volunteer rehab agency and obtained their support.
I then launched myself at the work. It proved to be much more difficult than I expected. First, code is completely unforgiving of error. Put a colon in the wrong place and everything blows up. I had a very difficult time but I bulldozed my way forward. The end result is here. It is not fully complete but has reached the stage of a viable demo.
At this point my memory of events breaks down. The same group that first supported me turned and rejected the project. I ended up talking to Dr. D who advised me to go to a local hospital for suicidal intentions. I drove there but did not go in out of the fear that I might be arrested for something and become trapped in a system I did not understand. I went home and started walking.