Dreams revisited. Warning, ego trip ahead.

By DocBrock · May 29, 2012 ·
  1. DocBrock
    OK, so my doctor has ordered I increase my valium to 30mg per day, which bollockses up my taper and sets me back quite some time. OK, I'll look at the long term here. At least I got more than four hours continuous sleep last night. First time in a long.

    Still on seroquel.


    I was a precocious little sod. I rebuilt my first motorbike engine when I was ten. Around the time manic depression came to the party.

    The dream started with me doing that. Some 'movie', some still frame segues. The segues tended to be me observing studying everything I could.
    I recalled the sense of mockery directed toward me that I dare try to rebuild a four stroke engine at that age, plus, I'd never ridden anything other than a pedal+pop, how was I going to cope with foot braking and gears?. The Honda C100 Cub has a three speed + auto clutch.
    'Ha ha ha, It won't start you know' post rebuild.

    'Yes it will, it has to. It's been put back together exactly as it should be. It doesn't have a choice'

    Those were the words I used in the dream, those were the words I used then. I've since read about and met others who have a similar experience and used almost identical words to convey the same meaning. I've built it as it should be built. It has to work.

    What happened to that confidence?

    The bike started third kick. Ran super smooth. Up yours doubters!

    There then followed a revisit of -every- engine, engine modification, engine conversion, tune up, tweak up I've ever done. The last one in that sequence though represented what I want to do to a certain Ford diesel engine, mixed with what I've already done.

    OK, let's step aside and look.

    I have been getting vivid, lucid, personal dreams since quitting. They generally follow a theme. Things I've fucked up and things I've succeeded at. All needing some conscious thought afterwards.

    Notice the polarised theme. I've either been brilliant, or a fuck up. I can't remember a truly trivial dream recently.

    I'm coming to the opinion my subconcious is bringing things up that require closure to allow me to proceed, and my little triumphs are there to remind me what I have done and thus what I can do.


    Recent 'little triumph' dreams have included...
    Building engines.
    Designing and building a computer, writing the BIOS + basic OS. Actually, that was 50% BBC Micro ripoff and 50% me. All the circuitry and code was original, but the machine was heavily influenced by the design of the BBC.
    Writing a speech capture with real time, though slightly buffered, recording to disc. On a BBC Master Turbo, ie, it was equipped with a 65C102 Co-Pro. First time I'd programmed a dual CPU system.
    Wrote a supervisor and scheduler, with some help from a magazine article.
    Racing, although my one and only top spot memory eludes me still.
    Lots more boring computer, bike and academic stuff coupled with some wonderful recalls of me lecturing and training others to great success. When the Acorn Archimedes was launched, introducing the Arc to some of my former teachers was funny as a funny thing. Seeing them sitting there, watching me, hair and all, extending their knowledge.
    I was nice to them, they were civil to me. I was being paid to deliver to the best of my abilities, they were there to learn. Pointless letting past issues cloud current.

    Pointless letting past issues cloud current.

    ^Is that one of the dream lessons?

    I truly feel that my ope suppressed my ability to feel any sense of real pride or achievement, and buried prior achievements so only -it- made me feel good.

    Now, as I have a very low self esteem, no sense of future purpose, no sense of achievement outside my family and all the rest that can drive gilded splinters into me, it seems that part of me is reminding me of what I can do, have done.

    I still struggle to feel pride. I still feel my achievements happened in spite of, not because of me.Are the 'dream lessons' trying to allow me to feel normal emotions?. I've been through relationship break-ups, times of somewhat fuelled joy, grief and success. ( Thinks ).

    It is a theory for recovery I guess. My emotions are still a little, well, odd at times. Sometimes soaring, sometimes plummeting. ( Thinks ) But they are closer to being 'in step' with the emotions of others.

    Even now though, I 'hear' a voice telling me to stop being such a pretentious twat. Anybody could do what I've done. Nothing special.

    Hehe. For those with multiple personalities. I've got Mr.Grumpy McDetractor arguing with Mr.Rose Tinted-glasses and Mr.R is arguing that a lot of my suppressed pride in myself is justified and should be brought more to the fore to help boost confidence.


    That's a new voice, and it's loud. For any Brits, think a northern accented Brian Blessed. It shouted. I hit CR+LF after the last full stop when he shouted. Oh, notice the it became he. What process caused that?, I didn't.

    He's gone now. I don't recall the exact words, but I do recall the sentiment.

    ' You've done things that others aren't capable of dreaming of, you stupid cunt. Use the fucking gifts you've got and for fucks sake FEEL PRIDE IN WHAT YOU'VE DONE AND ANTICIPATE PRIDE IN FUTURE. IN FUTURE, REVEL IN THE MOMENT. STOP PLAYING YOURSELF DOWN ALL THE TIME'

    The caps represent the shouting at me. Left me with a bit of a headache actually. Yeah, he is a shouty, sweary being. Internal personalities are very real. Do they represent an unacceptable public face to one's psyche, but still require nurture and recognition?

    Every natural blink brings back a glimpse. Frail, ethereal, intangible coruscations scintillating before my vision internally. Shut my eyes and it just becomes dark.

    I have a thousand questions to ask the other aspects of me. Meh, meta-me.
    How conceited that looks that he can claim that. Smug cunt.

    ^That's downer me. That was downer me talking to no-one in particular. That thought/sound came as I began to type 'Meh', then downer me, having done his Buzz Killington impression, goes away.

    My pride has gone now.

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