Incredibly horrible dreams all night.  I was confronted with every anxiety I have and have ever had.  Every failure.  Every loss.

On some level, I think I was confronted with every anxiety I ever will have, also.  I remember distinctly the thought of abandoning my body, just leaving it, or rather, having someone tell me to do that.  And feeling no attatchment to it whatsoever.  I felt my life was built entirely on deception and got in touch with a deep, virulent vein of self loathing.  An aggressive self loathing.  I awoke unsure of what day it was.  I didnt know what I was supposed to do, where I was supposed to go to work.  Nothing.

I thought about the dream and was nearly overcome.  I felt as though if I were back into it, I would vomit until I passed out.

Got up, went to the bathroom, and saw myself in the mirror.  Was immediately overtaken by the self-loathing.  Like, if you saw someone you most hated, hitler, say, and immediately and aggressively wanted to kill them, that was how I felt.  It wasnt a doloros self-pitying kind of self loathing, but an active self-hatred divorced of any sense of self.  Then I nearly lost my shit again, and felt as though I would vomit until I passed out.

I went through the motions, almost being overcome three more times at work.  I felt like begging a co-worker who was going to class to stay with me, that no, not everything was all right.  But I could not explain why everything was not all right.

Thankfully, on this day, I sit at a desk and no one really bothers me, and I have little to do while she's at class.  I cover the front desk for three hours until she gets back, and I go to my regular job.  I suppose I should be indignant about it, but I really could care less.  My life will not change one iota because of this, nor will my career, so...so what.

I sat amd stared out the window at life going by, much as I used to do as a grade school kid, until I got it together enough to go and get coffee.  And with the coffee came the miracle of healing.  Like a magic salve it put my soul back together in some coherent sense, I got distance from the horrible feelings, the bad memories, and kept going through the motions.  I had come  completely unglued and put myself back together again with the wonder of juan valdez.

And no one had noticed.  Not even remotely.

I thought about it, and tried to compare it to doing acid, but not really succeeding.  I think I went through a titanic number of nervous breakdowns in the old acid eating days.  Comparing the symptoms of LSD abuse, tripping, to the patients I counseled and the exact defininition of a nervous breakdown, it seems pretty likely.  I likened LSD to a personality eraser.  It would throw all the pieces of the puzzle into the air and change the makeup.  I stopped taking it because I liked whom I had become on some levels.  I stopped taking it for a lot of reasons.

So I called Audrey.  How was your day, etc.

"How's your day?"  she asked.

"I think I had a nervous breakdown this morning."  I said.

"You sound fine." she said.  And nothing more was said.

I wrote a friend about it.  She had nothing to say.  'I'm taking today off.' she said.

Later on, in a bid for understanding, I even wrote an ex-girlfriend.  Didnt get any answer.

Fuckin' women.