I've been having anxiety dreams. This last one would make an awesome animated movie. I was trapped in a literal nightmare world, where every door took you to a different set, and where you never knew if the people were going to hurt you, chase you, help you, or whether they were even real and not phantasms.

I blame my PTSD. I also blame John for bringing up dreams like this. I think I literally scared myself awake. I don't feel safe, ever, really, as of late. That's why even though I'm successfully hiding my depressive state, it's there, lurking.

This makes two days in a row of this non-stop fear dreaming. Both times I can recall being very high up, looking over a fantastic scene, one of a huge garbage dump with people looking tiny with shopping carts as they looked for things they could use, and this time high on something akin to a cathedral's rounded top looking at what seemed like a matte set of a full moon rising.

Need to make these into either stories or short movie scripts. They were both so full of texture. Nightmare texture, granted, but I woke from each (actually there have been more, but I'm managing to erase them, usually) in a heightened state of fear and dread.

Now to see about not waking up in there again. It was on some level infinite. Nor to wake up in that rotting house with naked videos of me showing up utterly inappropriately. Just not good. There's more, and much worse, but I need to channel it properly.