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« When Ketamine Dreams Go Bad | Main | My Skin »
Tuesday
Oct012013

Breaking Bad & Special K

I could not get away. Every time I stepped back into the living room a plant had grown up from beneath the carpet. A sign that they were there. The others. The people who lived under my world and had had taken over my existence. Or were they people at all? I could not tell as they had no eyes. In my dream, I went to sleep, only to be wakened to signs they were closer to absorbing me in whole. Welcome to ketamine nightmares, otherwise known as Special K. All had been blissful until tonight. It is 11:30pm. Lou woke me from this haunted sleep. Evidently, I had voiced a fear so deep I could not reach the surface of my dream alone. Her gently pat on my cheeks drew me back to a reality welcomed in the still darkness of night.

I have documented the first two days and night rather easily. The hallucinations tamed in comparison. Tonight was a hedge hammer to what had been so far. Was it the chocolate before bedtime? Whatever it was, was akin to nightmares as a child. The doctor had given me clonazapam, to help me relax prior to going to bed; specifically to ward off the above or such visions of Bryan Cranston wielding a meth lab in your garage and taking your family hostage.

To top it off, my daughter's dog spent the night and had diarrhea in the bathroom. At least it was in the bathroom. Good dog. That's the one good thing about not walking. Your best friend can pick up the diarrhea while you're tripping out on ketamine dreams in the other room.
Speaking of diarrhea...
Chocolate. That's the other thing I cannot get enough of. The infusions have awakened a love for chocolate unlike any food fetish I've ever had. Which could explain the dog diarrhea. Chocolate. Bad dog.
Tomorrow is Day Three of infusions. I will relay to my doctor the nightmares that began with a stalker who slowly took over my mind and kidnapped me to the land of Breaking Bad. And the sudden engorgement of Walt and the Chocolate Factory. And we will begin all over again.
So far, I do not feel much change in pain levels, but we still have a long way to go and I am ready to hit this puppy head on. Like a dog with a baseball bat hitting a home run infused with "Special K". Leaving a slightly sullied spot. That hopefully no one but myself might see, or smell. I'm ready to conquer another day and break it into the most memorable of whatever it is supposed to be. So at some point, I might just be able to run those bases all by myself and hear a cheering of a crowd meant only for me, and my doctor, and some strange guy named Walt with a lighter by my side just waiting to take me to a place where breaking bad is oh such a wonderful place to be.

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