I will add that I had the most emotionally draining dream of unknown origins during my nap.
I was the middle of three brothers. I worshipped, idolized and bedeviled my older brother to the point where he, ticked off by something I had not done, took a school paper from my notebook and tore it up, peed on it and laughed howlingly about our yard.
That paper was one I had poured my heart and soul into. I had gotten high marks on it and it was the first adult recognition I had ever received that I was more than just my older brother's bothersome younger brother.
My dad was on the porch and watched what happened. I rushed out to try to stop my brother, but froze at the sight of what he was doing. He had a look in his eye of absolute triumph, and I heard my dad say "Oh, no."
What followed was a smackdown of major proportions. My older brother never landed a returning blow as I beat on his body, making sure I didn't hit any one place too many times.
I have no idea how much time had passed, but I was painfully aware that I was broken. I no longer had respect, love or worship of this foul creature on the ground with a new fear in his eyes. I told him he would never speak to me, look at me or get near me without my permission ever again.
My young brother was standing in tears, and my dad looked sad and spent.
I later broke down in my dad's arms and told him I had never known until that moment how much my brother resented me, how absolutely alone I now felt and how I felt I had lost all the joy in my life.
As I am on only child, I cannot fathom why that dream, what may have caused it or whether it is also a spillover of the meds.
It felt real, but could not possibly be so.
