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Blog, depression, dreams, personal story


It’s frustrating when you wake from a dream unable to remember the details, only the lasting impression and emotions afterwards; no matter how much you try to recall it, all you are left with are fleeting fragments and a sense of unease.

This isall the more frustrating when you have the feeling that maybe you found an important answer to something that has been troubling you, only to lose it upon awakening.

I had a dream the other night which now I can recall only the haziest details of. All I know is that there was a discussion of theology in there somewhere, and some sort of spiritual experience – but I cannot remember what precisely that may have been. Part of the dream focussed on prayer and a decision; I think in the dream I was faced with some sort of proof or evidence that I had been searching for, and there was a situation in which the only thing to do was pray – with the complete knowledge that prayer was useful, powerful and effective, and that I was doing so as a Christian.

I also know that even as I was waking from the dream, it was very important that I remember… what? I don’t know. I can’t remember, only that it was important.

Frustrating. Back to everything being as clear as mud again.

Over the past couple of months, several people have offered friendly ears to listen if I felt the need to talk, and I am afraid I have failed to respond. It is not through a lack of appreciation of the offers; they have all been made most kindly, and I do appreciate the genuine friendship extended to me.

The failing is mine; despite the seeming candour of this blog, I find it very difficult to open up in person and discuss matters which I have been wrestling with inwardly for years. I am so used to this internal struggle that I find it very hard to share it in person with others; also, too, I dislike inflicting my burdens on others – even when perhaps that is what I really ought to be doing.

Please do not take my silence to be a rejection; it is not meant as such. I simply do not know how to put into words in person the thoughts I have been dealing with. What little makes it into this blog is perhaps less than 10% of the whole story; and the constant struggle out of depression makes it even harder to share the rest.

I do miss my friends at St.Mary’s and think of you all often. 😦


About arkadyrose

Genderqueer artist, singer, musician, writer, tailor, mead-mazer and doll crafter living in Walthamstow, NE London.


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Arkady Rose

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February 2009
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