Insomnia – Faithless *
What this doesn’t take in to account is how unpleasant it is. DEX acts as a physical stimulant. Many people report problems sleeping, though that aspect doesn’t really affect me (I can sleep through anything). But I can’t avoid the hyper-verbal, somewhat manic, aggressive, impatient, impact on my personality. Being on DEX is not a sober experience. If I take my pills on a Wednesday morning, then Wednesday and Thursday will be lived under the influence of DEXamania. And, since what goes up must come down, Friday and Saturday will be the corresponding low. It’s not nice. I am told that some people take DEX recreationally. But, if one wanted the buzz of being up all night… there are alternatives available that make you happy, rather than angry. Take them, if you want to. Don’t take DEX unless you have to. Would be my advice.
The dream begins with a UK government cabinet meeting, only all the ministers are being played by minor celebs. The person playing the role of Foreign Secretary has ginger hair and a beard. The others are calling him “Bedingfield” and I had to look him up the next day to confirm that this was David Bedingfield in character as Boris Johnson. I was a little surprised because my conscious brain didn’t know who Bedingfield was. But my unconscious brain clearly keeps better tabs on celeb-dom. (Sadly, I’m all to aware of who Johnson is). Anyway, the 20-odd random celebs (no, I can’t remember who the others were, now, though I think my brain had furnished them all with identities at the time), are busy acting their political roles, but in the form of having become the ministers. It is all decidedly real. Eventually the cabinet meeting breaks up in acrimony with everyone, including me, chasing Bedingfield as though to lynch him for the mess that brexit has become.
Before we catch up with him, I need some money and put my hands in my pockets only to find they are full of the most ludicrous quantity of stuff: plaster cast model palaces, large decorative gold coins, small icon mirrors, plastic superhero models, and so on. Once I have emptied my pockets, I have great piles of these items. My next task is to explain their origins to another friend who has appeared next to me. Given that this is a dream, I assume that, at this point, my brain is desperately trying to back-fill explanations for each thing; all these random details, now requiring an explanation.
So… I swiftly remember an encounter with the small child of friends who gifted me the suoerheroes.
And then… my brain works its way back to recall a visit to a rural French chateau with narrow stairs where some crazy old relatives of a friend had an entire model of 17th century Paris laid out on the floor in an unused upstairs room. They had announced they were getting rid of the model, and so giving away the pieces, and I had picked up and pocketed a selection of interesting model buildings from their display. So: that’s the plaster cast palaces explained. Phew!
My mind is just turning itself to dredging up “memories” of the origin of the coins and mirrors, when I am rescued by the alarm clock I had set to wake up one of the boys for an early start for school. Thank heavens for small mercies.
That’s a bit what DEX is like: far too much going on in one’s brain – every detail both interesting and in need of further clarification. Marisa asks me sometimes, when I’m on DEX and going on and on, whether I am aware that I can’t stop talking. And I sort of am aware, but I can’t do anything about it because things just seem to need explaining.
So, if you see me on a Thursday, and I go on a bit, it’s the DEX talking. And if you see me on a Friday, and I look a bit deflated, it’s the DEX down. Now you know.
(Oh, and if you’re in the car in front of me, on a DEX day, slowing my progress: GET OUT OF THE WAY YOU MORON. Though I try to avoid driving on DEX days; it’s far too stressful.)