even in my sleep...

I'm home early tonight, working again on deadline from my laptop. I have some editorial corrections and material additions to make to some of our cardiology documents. We have 11 documents remaining for final editing ranging from aortic stenosis to rosecea. All must be done to standard for submission to our american client before Rosh Hashana. If it's done and I'm not scheduled for any clinical work then I'm free for Rosh Hashana reflection. As if I don't reflect enough. Actually, Rosh Hashana should involve bringing in a sweet new year and since this one was literally among the worst in my life, I should try to aim to begin the new one with a fresh perspective, less emotional baggage from the relationship from hell, and a sweeter taste of optimism for the future in my mouth.

lately I've been having bad dreams about my last relationship. I haven't been able to sleep properly and I wake up only to wrap myself tighter in my duvet so that I can disappear from myself. I feel like Dorthy from the wizard of oz, hoping that if I click my heels together three times I'll be transported somewhere else, but the somewhere else is away from my own heart. I became really distraught and disoriented this year coming out of that relationship situation, and the discomfit with myself still remains. I had no resolution.

Everything around me remains strange to my touch as I feel myself carrying on with an emptiness not filled by my work or other commitments. Nothing around me carries the same value. Time spent with Don Juan before he went to vietnam was like time spent straight out of the time-travellers wife. I don't think I was ever actually present. Each moment felt like it was experienced in the twilight zone. I actually asked him if it felt weird for him, implying that for me I was in full on weird temporal zone. His answer was that for him it felt perfect. He replied that everything couldn't have been more perfect. I was baffled. I didn't return his calls before he left and skipped his going away party. Feeling badly about being a bit unkind by doing this, I delved deeper into my workload and resolved to strengthen my fortitude with anyone that I might be attracted to and not give in to any more late night encounters of the romantic kind. Don Juan only snuck into my life because he forwent my typical resistance to making time for plans that resemble dates, and just showed up at 1am with regularity, ostensibly to chat. Time spent with him involved moments where I've felt exactly like an automaton. With him everything is completely emotionless on my part and almost robotic. How can he not feel that from me? He's not even the desperate type. I don't even have his number saved in my phone.