Decided to take clonazepam last night because I was having trouble falling asleep. Woke up feeling a little hungover. The night was full of nightmares, although not the kind I need to worry about. I don’t think the clonazepam had anything to do with it. This is just my usual pre-demented nightmares.

In one dream, I was at a mall that was virtually empty with a female friend. I don’t know this person in real life. I was sitting inside some kind of booth in the center of the aisle when I suddenly spotted her. I could only see her head from my vantage point, and she appeared to lie facedown on the ground. I thought it was weird and wondered why she would do that. Then I leaned in for a better look and saw a guy on top of her, raping her at gunpoint. I bolted out of the booth and dashed over to them, not caring about the weapon, and went to kick him in the head. However, I missed, and a split second later, the dream ended.

In the next dream, a huge Black woman was trying to steal a Black doll of mine, lol. This took place in a different location—a crowded room. I went to pull all the stuff out of her hands for it, but a bunch of people pulled me away. The next day, I ran into her again, although I’m not sure if it was in the same place. She was puking her guts out, and some other woman was trying to comfort her. I was laughing and insisting that was true karma.

Then I had a shitty dream involving Tinkerbella—a regular theme I’ve had before—where for some stupid reason, I let her outside and worry she’s going to disappear, or she actually does disappear. Rats are territorial and wouldn’t run away, but cats could get them or something like that, so it’s not good to take a pet rat outdoors. Plus, there are ants and other shit. Anyway, it was nighttime, and we were staying in a hotel somewhere. I took her out to play in this grassy area and then stupidly left her for a minute to go get something. As I was returning, a really loud car and motorcycle pulled in near the grassy area, which I hadn’t been expecting because it was late at night. I ran toward the grassy area, horrified that she might have been scared off.

So, who got to star in one of my dreams last night: the toxic parents or the sister? It was the latter last time around. Tom and I were traveling somewhere and stopped at her place, which appeared to be in an apartment for food and drinks. Plus, we had to use her bathroom. The plan was to be done with her once we left, but on the way out, I said, "I hate to say it, but that was kind of fun." Of course, in real life, I would never have anything to do with her ever again, and that’s the way it should have been for decades rather than years. But sometimes I learn my lessons too late in life. Oh well, better late than never.