Sometimes A Cigar Is Just A Cigar

Before I was hospitalized, I had trouble getting a full night's sleep--I'd wake up hyperventalating with my heart beating at 120 bpm. Now, I sleep too much.

Last night, my sleep was filled with dreams about various Playboy Playmates wandering around my pad. You'd think that would be a good thing, but I was mostly bored in the dream. Then my dream segued into a party on the rooftop of a highrise.

There were no guard rails, so one slip and off you fell eighty stories. My parents had dragged me to this soiree--it was a business meeting/reunion for them. I was trying not to panic--even without my fear of heights, eighty stories would have still been daunting. The roof was only ten feet by ten feet, so there was not much room. Then I freaked out and grabbed the floor, not wanting to slip off the side. I told my parents to lead me off, but they just got pissed, ignored me and went back to their mingling.

I eventually made my way back to the interior of the high rise (which was a hotel). I was trying to find my room, but I spent the rest of the dream lost.

Imagine my mind without meds. Yeesh, right?