My dreams are running more and more lately like a soap opera. They’ve always been a little that way, but now they’re more contiguous. Sometimes, it’s even like I never left that other world. Sometimes they’re frightening, but at least I’m alive in them, and the monsters can be defeated. I’m never under threat as consistently and insidiously as I am here. There’s magic and wonder and good company.

I’m awake, but already I want to go back. I hate it here. I wish this was the nightmare.

In other news, I forgot to turn up for two shifts this last week. By that I mean I went back to bed instead of to work, because I completely forgot I’m supposed to go there.

Two suicides in one family of four, ridiculous really. Anyway that door is locked, bolted, padlocked and has a huge chain wrapped around it every time I go there. Can’t follow. No exit. Never, not to my mother.

I can’t go back to bed. I have a doctor’s appointment. Besides I already slept twelve hours. I should stop.

I’m sorry about posting this, but there are things I can’t talk about which are threatening me, my mother, my dogs and our family home. And I’m so tired. I honestly can’t face any more grief. I can’t hurt the only ones left in this world that I love, not even to save them, and I can’t watch while it happens anyway and I’m helpless to stop it.

I can see us all becoming homeless, hungry, cold and dying, while the people who brought us to it laugh in their spite. There’s just no humanity here, and life is… unreasonable. Much more so than any dream my sleeping brain can conjure up.