Monday, January 10, 2022

Pandemic Dreams, Anxiety and Dash of Language Acquisition


 

Just question arising from a random thought.  Did you pick up your vocabulary from talking or reading?  Me, it was mostly reading. Never having heard some of the big words I read spoken aloud had it pitfalls. With words that began with p, which I now know is silent, when I said the word with my voice, I found a tortured way to work the p into what I spoke aloud.  Pneumonia as I pronounced it became pa-known-ya.  

 

I was reminded of this by a word in the title, anxiety.  It was in college when I first said the word aloud. Ah-nex-ity rolled off my tongue in the middle of a small group discussion of an assigned reading.  To no one’s surprise I got laughed out of the room. Right then I realized I possessed in my vocabulary an entire wealth of words I had defined by context having read them again and again but which I had never pronounced verbally.  The course instructor comforted me by saying it was not uncommon.  Oh well, just an aside. On to other things.

 

Two years ago, on this date January 10th I retired.  Within a month of leaving my job I was sleeping through the night. ‘Twas a joy to wake up without an alarm clock. ‘Twas a greater joy that when I hit the pillow, I would sink into a deep dark and virtually dreamless sleep.  

 

For decades I had trouble getting to sleep.  Most night I would find myself at 1:30 AM stretched out flat looking up at the ceiling thinking things like, if I can write that up by my 10 AM hearing tomorrow I can give my attention to that much longer order I need to write.  Often my mind was working out the chess moves to navigate the social intricacies at work.  What did my boss really mean with that comment?  Etc. Modern life, it is riddled with pitfalls and pitfalls cause anxiety.

 

Not working washed away so much of my anxiety. Through the initial waves of the pandemic, I still slept well.  Every day I was walking long distances and I was stimulating my mind with books and articles from papers and magazines.  I did things like painting the living room, those coats of paint were something that was long overdue. I planned, plotted and eventually executed the oft times delayed escape to Portugal.  For the better part of 22 months, I slept well.

 

Since early December the anxiety and troubled dreams have returned.  Omicron with its high positivity rate and the wide array of people who I personally know that have tested positive are bothering me.  Worries about inflation and my inability to cross international borders bother me also.  My age is starting to worry me.  Yeah, the whole road doesn’t go on forever thing is playing on my mind.  Concomitantly the fear that the money won’t last bubbles up.  I think I am okay but….  Well, easy comforting sleep has fled from me.

 

When Omicron passes, I will probably feel better.  At least I hope so.  But for now, I am staring wide awake at 1:30 in the morning. My eyes are focused on either the ceiling or my iPad as I try to slow the hobgoblins in my mind down. And the dreams.  In the past month I have dreamed about missing trains and begging for help where nobody spoke my language.  I dreamed the streets outside my home had turned into lasagna. Cars were getting stuck in cheesy, gooey, baked wonderfulness sinking up to their door handles in tomato sauce and stringy cheese. Last night my middle of the night subconscious reveries were all over the place. One dream was a teen action adventure akin to Risky Business.  In another I had been hired for a government job as a technical assistant.  Turns out when I reported for work, I was required to hit the button that administered lethal injections to prisoners.  I was standing in the room with the button in my hand screaming, “I didn’t sign up for this!!!” when I awoke.

 

I will be wearing an N-95 mask for the foreseeable future.  I will be avoiding contact with people returning to having my groceries delivered to the trunk of my car. I will be watching church on YouTube and texting in my offering. Hopefully the current Covid wave will crest and fall leaving us alive on the shore.  Hopefully less fitful sleep will return for me. Do I blame my own damaged psyche or the pandemic for my anxiety and troubled dreams?  Yes. 


I have had bad dreams too many times...




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