Ahmad Sakkijha

Fever Dream

One night some time ago, I couldn't sleep. It felt very dull and I felt empty inside, knowing I had done nothing productive for the day. I kept twisting and turning in bed until I found the energy to get out of bed and do something productive. As I walk to the kitchen, wanting to grab a glass of water, I noticed that there was something off; everything was out of place. My brain stopped working for a moment, trying to analyze what had possibly happened, as I knew that I am a very orderly person. Then, I hear some sounds above my head. I knew that couldn't be, since I live in a house with a steep roof. I decide to exit the house to figure out what was going on, and as I went out, I didn't see anything out of the ordinary on the roof. I felt paranoid and was questioning whether im hallucinating or just overthinking, I have been ruminating about all the traumatic things in my childhood recently, could it be that? Could Sigmund Freud have been right about repression, how we try to hide our pain until we cannot have the power to do so anymore? Is this me going through cognitive dissonance, trying to match my attitudes with my behavior in order to seem normal, when nothing was normal about me? What is it, that's making me feel so terrible about myself that sleep has not been able to take me away of this Earth we call home for just some hours. As dusk was growing close, I decided not to return to bed and just sat down, with my glass of water, and kept on thinking about my issues until I had no power to do so anymore. Some form of energy took over me, some sort of intrinsic motivation, or even attempting to reduce that drive of being fulfilled as mentioned in the drive reduction theory telling me to go out and just run. It was 4 AM but nontheless running seemed like the only right option. I left my house and ran, and ran, and ran even more until my feet were practically a group of blisters. The thing is, I don't know where I am, I'm lost yet there is no reason to be, just retracing the steps of the hours of running I had done, but I could not remember, and even better yet, I could not walk. Accepting defeat, I sit on the sidewalk just thinking about how my life is a mess, and nothing I do in this world is right, nothing is considered good and that sense of fulfillment is never there. "Is it true what Gardner believes in? That we have 8 different forms of intellects? Why am I so dumb that I feel like I have no intellect, neither fluid nor crystallized, and no general intellect either. I feel like I am the living counterclaim for the Cattell-Horn-Carrol theory, which states that generalized intellect is available in all of mankind, but is rather bridged off by fluid and crystallized intelligence. Or am I just not a human, not a living being as I have done nothing to prove my worth or humanity even, since all the suffering and death I witness on TV barely fazes me. Am I desensitized? Has the experience of trauma all of my life led me to this stage where I don't feel sympathy for people that are suffering, no matter the story, and no matter the pain they've been through? Or am I just living in a world that does not think I matter, that if I had taken my life nothing would change in the world? Do I matter to anyone enough to be recognized, I mean nobody even knows about all the suffering and pain i've been through in my life, so why would anyone care when I try to rid myself of it? Maybe that's the answer, the solution to all my problems. But that makes no sense, becuase scientifically I am matter, meaning I matter to the entropy of the universe. I am energy in my own, be it thermal, kinetic, potential and otherwise. I am a being, which has a purpose. If i don't matter to anyone, then I matter to planet Earth, our homeland and the only place we can currently call home, which we are slowly destroying ourselves, by emitting carbon and promoting pollution and littering. Why am I thinking about all these negatives? Why don't I let my feelings out and show that it's alright to suffer, but never in silence? Maybe it's because talking about your feelings is considered a taboo, something undesirable, something hated by society. This normative social influence on us must end, or become a good influence promoting change and proper well being both physically and mentally. People matter, things matter, and the environment matters. Why avoid the truth? Maybe since people today have gotten used to taking the sugarcoated version of the truth, basically a lie, and liars themselves think they're making "excuses" when they're just blatant lies. All these thoughts happened while I was sitting down, all alone on the sidewalk. Somehow, with the blink of an eye, I was back in my bed, confused about what had just happened to me. I immediately jump out of bed, going to my kitchen, and finding everything in order. Then, I said: