I honestly thought they were gone. That the dreams truly were just a product of the medicine I was taking. I say 'was' because one result of the events of last year was that I stopped taking those medicines, and it turned out that I didn't need to start back up again. On the one hand that was a very positive development. But on the other I now know that the dreams weren't simply an odd side effect.
Still strange. Still with no apparent meaning. But still dealing with a real place that I have never been to. Once again I felt the mounting anxiety when I woke, that need to find the place and mark it. Claim it. But just like the last time, nearly a year ago, the dream showed me where it was. Where it is still. A little park and boat ramp dedicated to a little known conquistador.
I have no more insight now than I did a year ago, perhaps even less so since it seemed so apparent that the dreams were the result of the pills. The logical thing would be to accept this for the (hopefully) mild neurosis that is almost certainly is and talk to someone trained in dealing with these types of issues.
I wonder if I am still that logical.
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