Last night during my 12, or whatever it was, hours of sleep, at one point I was dreaming and found myself upstairs in an old 3-story house (which I'd had one or two dreams about before). I started to open a door to a room I'd been in before. But this time, the air inside the room was very, very dense. Not only grayish to look at, but also very HEAVY, where I could barely push the door open. I finally got the door open to where I could see in, but all of the air was pushing back at me, and every cell in my body was telling me, "You don't want to go in there. It's haunted." I felt every bit of whatever was haunting that room and backed out. And immediately woke up, utterly spooked...
The feeling reminded me of one other instance: Back in '91, during a time of going to sleep every night drunk and crying while in the long process of losing my first girlfriend... One night, at one point I'd just fallen asleep, and suddenly felt a dark, dark presence in the room; I don't know if I heard an "outside observer" speaking, or if I just felt this, but something told me: "It wants to get inside you." I immediately woke up, sat up in utter horror. And turned on all the lights in my house. And sat up awake for the rest of the night, lights blazing, not daring to move until the sun came up.
That was the only time in my life where I ever actually felt an evil spirit. Though last night's dream came somewhat close, it wasn't quite the same.
I was just now thinking: 2009 has got to be one of the worst years of my life! It started out coming home from a Christmas where I couldn't afford to buy anyone presents (unlike the year before, when I'd had a good job and had neat NYC-related gifts for everyone), and after not meeting up with someone I'd been hoping to meet up with. And I'd left my cat Gracie home alone for 5 or 6 days; plenty of food and water, but she was never the same after that. Almost immediately, she started to get sick; the awful deterioration went on for months until she died April 15. In February '09, my boss told me that after my 6-month contract was up May 17, the company couldn't afford to keep me on. So that was hanging over me, the unemployment stress and uncertainty continuing to this day. Then there's been the hurtful, murky stuff with S. all year until now. It's ALL been very, very murky and unpleasant. A lot of extreme heaviness and sadness.
Other bad years: 1984, 1991, 1996-99. And by "bad," I don't mean that the year was one of "change," which can be scary but still exciting, but rather one (or several) of utter STAGNATION and nothingness and deadness.
'84: My second year at UT. Back home, my first love Ginny'd found a new "best friend," but that summer we tried to reconnect...only, the new "friend" had to be included whenever I wanted to do anything with Ginny, and Ginny had started to talk just like the girl...just a big emotional mess. And my mother and I fought constantly. I ended up "running away from home" (at age 19) after 6 weeks in Azle, then spent the rest of the summer in a one-room-green-shag-carpet apartment in Austin, drinking a lot of wine and listening to Simon and Garfunkel and writing lots of morose poetry. That fall, couldn't concentrate at all in school, almost flunked out. At one point in the fall, Ginny and "friend" showed up, to sell tapes they'd stolen from the Fort Worth record store where Ginny worked. The Austin store called the cops on them. Ginny got in legal trouble; her father blamed ME. Ginny, I figured out later, had told him that I suggested she steal the tapes and bring them to Austin (which I certainly had not). Just as, when he once found cigarettes in her car, she told him they were mine (they were not). I was madly in love at the time, but have to admit now that she was really a shitty person.
'91: I wasn't in school, had a low-paying job, nothing going on. Final break-up year with first girlfriend after 3 years. The breaking up went on forever. One lowlight: We'd planned on spending the 4th of July weekend together. At the last minute, though, she said she had to go to her sister's place in Gonzalez for some family function. I'd been there with her before, so was disappointed not to be asked to go along. But, OK, it was a family thing; I wasn't mad, just disappointed. HOWEVER... the girlfriend was kind of a local Austin "celeb" on the club scene. She'd get blurbs written about her in the "Chronicle" and other smaller club/gay 'zines. And, a week or so after the 4th of July, lo and behold: there was a little article, complete with photo, about her and her bevy of 16-year-old punk chicks at some club party IN AUSTIN on the 4th of July weekend! Busted! While it felt a little good to be vindicated in my utter distrust of her, it mainly felt like shit to actually know the truth. September of this year was our final breakup (well, until 2000). With a lot of shitty feelings all year.
'96 - '99: I got my Master's from SF State in December '05. Hated SF, was very lonely, couldn't wait to get back to Austin after 2 years away, where I thought the following all awaited me: My two very close girlfriends of 9 years; my friend Jerry, whom I always went to see bands with; my writer's group (with my good friend Brian; as co-editors, we'd put out 3 lit magazines in Austin before I'd left); my (male) lover, whom I'd been seeing for 8 months before I left.
Well, within 6 months of my return: Both best girlfriends moved out of town with their boyfriends. Jerry moved back to San Antonio. Brian got accepted to grad school at Johns Hopkins. My lover stood me up at what was to have been our reunion, and I never saw him again. Seriously, all within 6 months. I was devastated by all of the losses, and basically went on a drinking binge that lasted for 4 years. Compounding the misery, I couldn't find a decent job, and ended up working at the same low-paying library job that I'd had before grad school. (I'd thought that having a Master's would immediately open all kinds of doors... Nope.)
2009 ranks right down there. Can't quite figure out which has been the worst! Maybe '96 - '99.