Nightmares and Escapes

I had another nightmare last night. Not the kind that leaves you terrified, just the kind that make you feel bad.

Again, I was desperately trying to escape. The people in my life were either passively trying to help or indifferent. They did not feel the same sense of urgency that I did, they did not seem to understand and I was unsure who to trust.

I ran into an old man who I served in the army with. I did not recognize him at first, but beneath the lines on his face I saw the familiarity. He seemed so happy to see me, and for some reason, I felt safe and happy seeing him too. He and a woman were trying to sell a stolen helicopter, they obviously had left the military. They woman was not a soldier, perhaps an army wife. She kept trying to apologize to me. I told her, “No, you helped me escape; you helped me escape from that army prison. Don’t apologize to me”. I suppose no one else understood like they did. They made me feel better, but I was still on the lamb. I was still running.

I awoke and was greatly relieved that it was Saturday and I would have sufficient time to recover from this dream. The only problem was, it was actually Thursday. I rushed out of the house to the office.

I was deeply unhappy that day. Though with the closing bell rung, I felt a pep returning to my step. I was just so tired. There is no relief in sight as my job ramps up. I take comfort in the hours I spend away from that place. In those hours I am free. It was with that thought in the back of my mind that I set out to treat that blasted Thursday like it was in fact a weekend day. I had drinks with Em in the East Village, wine with Gus in Tribecca, then a whirlwind evening of bar hopping throughout the city with a rowdy group of EWI members and out of town visitors. I ran through my evening, push push pushing until the morning light let me know that it was time to again relinquish my freedom and go back into the coffin of my work life.

Needless to say, I went too far this time. I was not able to rally and make it through my workday. I can function on very little sleep, but not no sleep. Thankfully, I am really good at what I do, and my track record allows me to take my sick leave when need be.

I hope I find the answers soon. I would like to know what it is I am running from. I am much more prone to fight than flight, so it is with tense curiosity that I look for the headless horseman on my heels.

New York Cries for Me Tonight

New York cried for me today. She cried tears I could not muster. It was wet and sad, but I barely felt it as I walked home with no umbrella in hand. Perhaps it was the warmth of the wine, but I feel that it was more than that. It was like the numb, sad feelings I have been carrying with me all week. The anonymous, sad little face that haunts me from time to time has been replaced with the sad, broken faces of my new clientele. The young veteran living in a homeless shelter, the older Vietnam vet desperately asking for help, my brother's sad voice; these have replaced the anonymous sad face in my heart.

My new job is hard. Not technically, technically it is idiotically simple, making me feel like a faceless cog in a machine. No, it is hard to see sick, dying and desperate people all day. Especially hard with an alcoholic brother and demented grandfather always in the back of my mind. A means to an end, plenty of leave, promotion potential; these are my mantras.

I don't mean to complain. It is getting better, getting easier. It is nice to at least give an ear to those so desperately in need of one. I am just a bit sad today. Sad for my baby brother, sad for my grieving mother and a little bit sad for me. I still have not found the tears though. This brings me back to my city. She did not pelt me with freezing rain, simply showered me with unexpected sympathy. She did what I am not able to do. She cried softly.

Still no word from NYU. I'm glad. Today is not the day for good news. Perhaps tomorrow I will smile, perhaps tomorrow I will be ready to celebrate. For today I will gratefully accept the compassion of my city, today I will morn. 12 hours of work down, another two days to go. One day at a time. Tomorrow will be brighter, tonight I will let the tears of New York lull me to sleep.