January 14, 2010

Go Away, Black Dog. Shoo!

One thing I've done with this blog in the past is to write down my dreams which affect my moods or are significant or vivid enough to have be stuck in my head all day. Sometimes these dreams have me waking up laughing or in a particularly good mood, even when they are about emotional times in my life. I have had running "nightmares" the night before a race, where I show up late, or can't find the start line, but then I wake up and feel a great sense of relief to realize it was just a dream.

However, last night, I had one of those dreams about running which made me wake up with this overwhelming sadness. I wonder of it was the dream, or just the result of my current bout of depression which started on Tuesday, and seems to be getting stronger today. Other people's laughter, innocuous remarks, and stresses at work make me want to burst into tears. Is it just a chemical imbalance?

The dream took place at the beginning of race, doing my usual "getting ready" routine, walking around talking to people as they pin their numbers on their shirt, talking to the race officials and friends. I walk up to this group of runners standing around a table pinning on their 'bibs'. My number was 9. I place my bib on the table where others have placed thier bibs, I pick up some safety pins, and when I go to pick my number, I can't find mine. I turn over several, but they are all other numbers. Other people help me look, but we can't find it. I remember talking to the race officials saying I lost my number to see if I can get another number, but they say I'm already in the system. I try to get a piece of paper to hand them at the end of the race, but it is raining and when I try to write on it, the paper falls apart. It is just minutes to the race, and a girl walks up to me and asks what I'm going to do, and I can't think of anything, I just shrug my shoulders. She then reaches in her pocket and hands me a folded piece of paper. It is my race bib. I'm relieved, and I say "Thank you". She looks at me surprised, then walks over to the guy she is with and says; 'I can't believe he said thank you". I think about her statement while I'm trying to pin on my bib, and realize she was playing a joke on me, or trying to keep me from running. Why? That is when the sadness hits. The race starts, but I don't run, I walk back to my car and drive away.

On a side note, can anyone name a famous black dog? (Don't anyone say "Snoop Dog") I was trying to think of one for the title of this post, but couldn't.



Drew said...

The first black dog that came to mind was Ubu. I think it's the name of a production company. Sit Ubu, Sit! Good dog! *Woof*

Allison said...

The only famous black dog i can think of at the moment is the Obama's puppy.

I've had a black cloud hanging over my head this week too. I don't really know why and it just gets worse everyday. All I want to do is cry and pout?

Anonymous said...

I inclination not acquiesce in on it. I over polite post. Specially the title-deed attracted me to read the intact story.

Sarah, Goon Squad Sarah said...

Ubu was a good one.

Wow. How could this be? I can't think of any.

But I do have the Led Zeppelin song stuck in my head, so that is something.

niCk (Mem Beth) said...

Sarah: I already used those lyrics for a "Black Dog" post.

I gotta roll, can't stand still...

Anthony wallace said...

How I have found myself here is bonkers & I've even found people here too wtf.