Caesar is finally over - it literally took up every waking second of my life, along with academics and studio and bureaucratic, departmental bullshit and sickness and too many things to list. I had a couple of breakdowns, I might have cracked and been put back together a few too many times, and the hairline fractures are starting to show in my brain.
But it is over, it happened, I lived, Brutus beat Caesar, Brutus beat him(her)self, and it was a wonderful experience and I love my Roman ladies and I'm glad I got to play him. But then I got to sleep and start recovering. Spring Break. Woo. Went to Boston for St. Paddy's - excellent and so fun. I do love my Irish darling, Commando. <3 What would I do without him. Go nuts and eat crappy food, that's what.
Been having consistent nightmares for about a week, now. Lots of disasters, floods, massive destruction, submerged planes with rotting corpses in windows, trucks jack-kniving into storefronts, murder, the works. Half of Boston underwater. Even if I can't remember, I've woken up in a startled, groggy panic a few times. I've never been one to dream much, and nightmares are usually few and far between. These are disturbing enough to make me nervous to go to sleep. I've never felt that way before. They're robbing me of rest. I wake up feeling exhausted and nervous.
Hoping it's just a phase, and the lingering edge of the damage Caesar did will soften and fade. I feel like I'm overreacting, my brain is not happy with me, but inside, when I just sit, I can feel how paper-thin something is, how the visible shaking that accompanies anything even remotely stressful is just waiting to come out again. I'm afraid something broke. I'm different. I've been more anxious. I cry more. The fact that NYU isn't making it easier and still screwing with my potential ability to graduate isn't helping.
But I'm alive. Harlequin is still alive, and tomorrow is a new day. And right now, I'm going the fuck to sleep.
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