I think it’s psychic chaff from some bad times last week, but last night was weird. Like I had a superlayer of brain saying let’s get David Lynchy and a sublayer of brain saying “sure, pal!” On one level, the nightmares weren’t that scary because I had some awareness that they were nightmares. On the other level, my brain is capable of some impressively weird crap to the point that I woke up at 2 a.m. more marvelling at what I could come up with than in a state of real fear.
Of course, this affected sleep, and yadda yadda, but I’m on track today and feeling pretty bad about the setback from taking a few days off over the weekend. I was kind of hoping for a quick snap back, but no such luck. Setbacks are real, now — long gone the days of my 20s when I could indulge and count on my metabolism to push me back onto firm footing. It’s going to take just as long to get back where I was as it did before: four days of time off and two weeks of progress lost means two weeks to get it back — not four days.
The math seems profoundly unfair, but it is what it is. I think the nightmares are me burning off the residue bad vibes from the pre-slump issues, and that’s a good thing — I feel like I’m back on track, not just deviating from a slump. Purging the negative energy, as goofily hippy as that sounds, is a good thing.