Tom's out donating this foggy morning, and I'm doing what I do best, which is being fatigued. Thirteen bad days so far this month. That's just over half a month spent tired. Pretty fucking sad. Yet it's back and forth and back and forth. I think I'm gonna have to take clonazepam tonight to “reset” things, so to speak. My sleep was very fragmented, and then I woke up a little too soon from a nightmare.

Since Tom read an article claiming that yoga helps with fragmented sleep, I started doing it again. It is sad and even a bit scary just how much flexibility I've lost! And my big fat belly doesn't help. In my 20s, I could have done almost all the poses easily enough. Now, even the simplest ones, like sitting Indian style, are a bit of a challenge because my joints are so stiff and my stomach is huge.

In the nightmare, I was obviously young again. I was attending or working at a school of some kind. There were many foreign teachers there, and for some reason, I consented to having sex after hours with an Indian guy. I saw a foreigner being arrested at one point and asked who it was, wondering if it was the guy I was supposed to have sex with, but it wasn't. So after school, he and his “assistant,” according to his culture, entered the room. I lay down on the floor, and the assistant took hold of my hands as he hovered above me. The other guy, presumably a teacher of some kind, began to enter me, and I pulled a hand out of the other guy's grasp and gently pushed back on the guy screwing me, telling him to go slow because it had been a while. Then the guy holding my hands backed off and started complaining about not feeling well or something being uncomfortable. That's when I felt uncomfortable with the whole situation and called it off. They seemed fine with it at first, but then an intense and palpable anger seemed to fill the room. I rose to my feet and began to gather my stuff, including a piece of paper they had on a table with my address on it. “You don't need to know where I live,” I said. Then the guy said something threatening, and I said something like, “OK, come to my home and see what happens.” Then I left the room with them following me. The faster I walked, the faster they walked. I began to feel genuine fear then because it seemed the school was deserted. I broke into a run, heading toward a section of hallway where more lights were on, screaming and hoping someone would hear me. That was when I woke up.

Why is it that people only want to befriend me if they're either crazy or they want something from me? What appeared to be a woman added me on Bluesky, so I followed her back. Then they messaged me, and the first red flag was all the personal questions they would bluntly ask. Then they asked if I thought they were a woman or a man. Next came WhatsApp and Telegram handles I had no interest in, since I don't use those apps and didn't see what was wrong with talking right there on Bluesky, especially since we barely knew each other. Finally, the confession came that they were a man who was "borrowing" their friend's account and "forgot" to change the profile info. Finally sick of wasting my time, I just blocked the fucker. I'm sure they were looking for ways to con money out of me. At least I think that's what the end game was. I also noticed another account in a different name with similar posts, so I blocked that, too. I should have said I was a guy when they asked if I was a woman or a man. LOL