My Life is my Dream

I am twenty-six years old and I still suffer from nightmares. I still encounter the recurring dreams of my childhood, as well as new delights which leave me numb. I don’t even get frightened anymore, I just feel despair. One recurring dream is the one of the teddybear’s picnic. I am in a land of green, there is no sky, no grass, only green. There is a teddybear and a blonde-haired doll and a gollywog with a checked red and white blanket, laying tea for us all. I pick up a cup at the insistence of the doll who bids me to drink. But there is no tea. Drink, she tells me. I pretend, but there is still no tea. The doll and the teddy are getting angry. I pretend to drink but it is not enough, and finally I leap to me feet and start to run. But there is nowhere to go, only green, no end no beginning, and I know now no escape.

Christmas morning I woke up with a dream filling my head and seeping from my pores. My ex was having a baby with his new girlfriend. I was so upset that I couldn’t act normal for days afterward and try as I might, I couldn’t escape the leaden depression that decended. Yes, I know, those days are over, but that is not the point. The point is that I am trapped in a cage of my own making and I haven’t figured out how to escape. How can it be love if I am the only one feeling it, when I inspire only pity and fear in my counterpart, when I still can’t accept that I have been abandoned? How can I get out of this bad habit? How can I dream of someone's life as it happens, know what they are doing, if we don't have a special link? I am sure many people will tell me to do this and that, but the only truth for me is keep putting one foot in front of the other.

We all have dreams. I don’t know if mine are acquired or instinctive or simply lies, but I must believe that they are important. When I was at school there was a boy who used to pinch me and steal kisses, who featured in a recurring nightmare of mine in which I was married to him. Even then, I thought I would never be with one person. And now, although being alone is bearable, what really hurts is the fear that I will not have a child. I have friends who don’t seem to want children and ones who do, but for me it is a bit different. I know that I will have a child with someone who will probably leave me. I fear I have already squandered that chance.

Last week I returned to Ireland for the week and realised that despite all my humming and hawing that I was correct in three things. Firstly, Barcelona doesn’t suit me and never has and I should stop making excuses and get on with it. Sure, it has many great things, but it is not for me. Second, my problems which I ran away from in Dublin will wait for me always. I will always love Ireland, and should probably avoid it for a while. But I may return for a quick fix at the end of the year before heading off again, perhaps this time to Sweden or Germany. Third, my ex is having a baby, due in August. I want to wish him the best and I can’t. I am not the person I thought I was.

Strangely, despite the negative tone of this piece, I feel at peace. I have been in a relatively good mood, and I am determined to enjoy my time here in Barcelona. Things are looking up with the band, the bassist is leaving soon which will be a good thing as he is good but I don’t feel he gels with us as people. Musically he is fine, but it would become a problem later. We have a gig in September at some festival which will be interesting but we will be back down to being 3 people again. We really need to sort out a drummer first I think.

And finally, I am not tied to anyone or anything, which is the finest thing in my life at the moment. I feel free.