8 years ago the return of the nightmares would have sent me spiraling into a deep depression. Upon reflection I note that these depressions that surrounded my haunting nightmare wasn't necessarily attached to a pathos. I had a depressive reaction to the lack of sleep, severe headaches, and terrifying dreams, but that initial depressive response tended to be persistet. Not because those things kept the depressive thoughts alive, but because I was depressed about being depressed. Make sense?

Things have changed a bit. The last time I experienced the dreams was back when Susan broke my heart. It weakened my state of mind enough to let the demons free, and I didn't have the heart nor will to try and snap out of the depressed state I was in. I was depressed about losing the love of my life while I was experiencing these dreams, so it just made it a big gloomy mess.

Now, though, the shadows came and it was like old times. But after the hand full of baby blues, the bottle of wine, and about 10 hours of unnatural sleep. I was okay. I wasn't depressed about being depressed. The pain in my head wasn't there, the terror of the dream had subsided, I was okay. I wasn't depressed because I had been depressed. Even if they do come back tonight.

Maturity? Probably. The state that these dreams, combined with the other factors, causes a real physical depression. I don't have to perpetuate that depression mentally.

Oh well, I found the difference interesting. I am, however, amazingly lazy today. Still groggy and slow from last night. I should go to Roma and study. Yes, I should. Will I? Pfft, not bloody likely. I'm leaving for Atlanta for a few days then on to New York for a few more, should be a nice vacation.

Snakes and butterflies,

-G