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Last night I woke up screaming October 21, 2010

Posted by Lauren Cooke in Dreams.
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Last night I woke up screaming. I pulled myself from deep down, swimming through murky water that clawed at me like toffee to finally plunge into the real world, with a scream tearing its way from my mouth as soon as I surfaced. Immediately after screaming, I lay back down, but I couldn’t get out of my head the feeling of utter terror. When my eyes tried to close, fluttering down against my will, I forced them open, staring around the room like a rabbit caught in the proverbial headlights.

What is strange is that I don’t know what was scary. I have apocalyptic dreams all of the time, and they entertain me from the moment my eyes close to the second my alarm wakes me in the morning. This dream, however, consisted of me flying around a huge, dark, and deserted department store, fighting as always against gravity and the ever encroaching darkness. At one point there was a slow wall of mud crawling through a town, and a mad rush to escape. All in all, it was pretty far from terrifying.

Yet still, there I was, wild eyed and pumped full of adrenaline, at three in the morning. Realising, of course, that for the first time since I have been single, I needed someone to hold me. I needed someone to stroke me, and tell me that it would all be alright, and shh me until I faded into sleep with their arms wrapped around me and their breath hot against my skin.

And there I was, alone.

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Absence makes the heart grow fonder October 9, 2008

Posted by Lauren Cooke in Uncategorized.
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Well well well. It has been a long time hasn’t it?!

In my defense, I have been on holiday. A week of, believe it or not, fabulous sun and beautiful waves in Cornwall. We spent a week cocooned in a cottage where the world couldn’t touch us, taking a rare chance to enjoy just each other and not to worry about the world around us. Whilst I am a committed advocate of living hard so as to enjoy those little luxuries even more, I would also always go on about the importance of sometimes, letting everything stop. Taking time to be alone with just the things you enjoy – strolling along the beach in bare feet. Shell hunting among tossing waves, scrambling up rough rocks and watching the fisherman at one with the sea. Eating as many pasties, chocolates and even the occasional meal out without feeling bad about it. Not counting the second of the day – just letting them drift past at their own pace.

Of course, and without meaning to be pessimistic, all holidays come to an end. It’s almost a relief in some ways to find out that the world continues unabated whilst you are taking your time. There is also the sweet gamble that when you return – flushed, in love and with clothes full of sand – nothing will be as it was. Armageddon could occur, and you would be none the wiser.

Of course, Armageddon didn’t occur. And if it had, you would probably know about it.

What has happened, however, is a little dose of skintness and post-holiday blues. I have spent the past week drifting from day to day. I seem to have been biting my fingers even more than I have in the past, and keep crying for no reason. For those of you who really know me, I’m still the same depressed person I once was – I’m just that person far less often. To fully exp[lain what I’ve been feeling, I have been crying. Having terrible and disturbing nightmares. Wishing that I could look in the mirror and be happy with  what I see, both inside and out. Now don’t worry, I don’t mean that I wish my intestines were more attractive. That the curve of my stomach made men weak with lust. No, I mean that when I feel like this, I at least like part of myself. Just a bit.

 

Of course, next week, I will be fine. At least the blues remind me that I’m alive. At least they remind me that I can feel.

On the subject of depression – my prologue to my book is up on my other blog for heavy critiquing – go ahead!