Emotional Outlet Store

had a cuckoo bananas dream last night, vivid as usual lmao. i was a seven year old girl raised in a cult which worshipped me as the eighth reincarnation of their founding leader. we lived on a huge ranch compound in the middle of nowhere. it was a zombie-apocalypse dream which is funny 2 me because i don't really like zombie content and don't consume it often.

i didn't see any zombies in the dream, the dream just started with me knowing there had been zombies. but following most zombie media, i lived in a world where there was no zombie media so we were all confused and shocked by zombies. it picked up a day or two after everyone in my cult had either died or fled.

i was alone on the compound, having hidden for two days in a closet with a false back wall, where i was taught to hide if anyone ever came to "attack" our cult. none of this was surprising to me, because i'd been raised believing the world had already ended and that we were the last surviving population of humans on earth. i'd been expecting some sort of horrible attack all my life. i also believed i was the only girl on earth, and that girls were only born as the reincarnations of our leader. everyone else i knew were all men and boys. no idea where the boy children came from? the nebulous nature of dream logic.

the dream pretty much began with me hiding in my spot, when i became aware of some people searching the building i was in, and then the room. they were taking all of our food and medical supplies (understandable) and talking about staying for a while because the grounds seemed pretty defensible now that the zombies were all gone.

i stayed hidden for a whole night and another day before i got extremely hungry and tried to sneak out of my spot while everyone was sleeping in the early morning, but i didn't consider they'd have someone awake on-watch for zombies.

he saw me and i ran to hide again so he woke up a few other people to find me. they ended up finding me in my hiding place and i chose fight over flight and threw myself at them so viciously that one of them almost shot me because he thought i was a zombie. but i was screaming words so they stopped him and in the end i was being so outrageously nasty (clawing at their eyes with success) that they ended up somehow pinning me down and rolling me up in a giant bedsheet so i was literally swaddled into submission.

they argued a while about what to about me and one of the guys was like "maybe she'll respond better to a woman" (zombie movie guy character logic idk) and they agreed to take me back with them to their like, longer-term camp some miles away (i guess there were on some sort of exploratory mission for medical supplies?)

so they kept me in my swaddle and started carrying me with them down the road and all the while i was like you can't do this to me. i'm god! you're not allowed to touch me!

This is consistently the case. Creators tend to do their best work when they are in a healthy place and receiving proper treatment and not being self destructive in their efforts to cope. Go figure.