Lucid Dreams and Mental Heath Stuff

Well, again, I was told it may be due to a dopamine deficiency and neurologically, it functions in a way that causes certain symptoms people with Parkinson’s get or something like that, which is why I was given L-dopa (Levodopa). It is also prescribed to Parkinson’s patients here for supressing their prolactin. I was hypothetically just off a roid called deca which has a pretty long elimination half life which I was told increases prolactin directly, or indirectly through adding to other compounds that cause a rise in oestrogen. When prolactin rises, dopamine is suppressed.

I’ve never had any problems with E2, though.

I’ve read from sources that I cannot verify (even if I could, this was so bloody long ago I can’t be bothered to lol) that metabolites from this roid may remain in one’s body for several more months to years so you guys please don’t take my word for it and GO SEE AN ENDO or any medical professional your doctor tells you to if you have problems like these.

This was around 15+ years ago so I’m not sure what developments in the medical field have taken place which may either make the rationale I was given wrong, or may further explain why this happens. Or I may have misinterpreted what the endo was saying but my doc friend says it’s a valid explanation. I’ve not had it in around 10 years or so. Maybe once or twice but I’ve forgotten if it did happen.

LOL was never told about this by my GP at the time. Dude was like in his late 60s and fucking hell this was one fucking weirdass dude but his clinic was nearest to the place I had moved to only recently at the time.

He’d either give you really fucking strong drugs like the benzos I got (that was like the 1st time I consulted him so I didn’t know he already had a fucking reputation amongst people living in the area) or stuff like cough syrup with really high codeine concentrations before the government started regulating the allowed amounts when some shit that I can’t really remember the details of blew up in the media, or just advise you to drink more water depending on his mood for the same minor ailments and even if you weren’t even fucking sick lol. He was always very willing to write medical certs so lots of my friends went to his clinic solely for that purpose.

But fucking hell, sometimes when other clinics were closed and you were really sick and really needed medication to curb the very fucking visible symptoms like a nose that just wouldn’t stop running, the odds that he’d tell you to just drink more water without prescribing anything were so high we started calling him “The Water Boy” LMAO.

The dude closed his clinic a few years later and opened then reopened it like a decade later at a different store in the same vicinity and, by my calculations, he would have been in his 80s at the time lol.

Anyway, I don’t use nor need benzos so it doesn’t really matter.

That makes total sense.

My kind of doctor… lol…

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My lucid dreams only freak me out because I realize how much control I do not have. I mean that concerning dreams, and In reality. I am freaked out much less about it though because given that, I am still capable of experiencing this life and being present in it, and making my own choices.

My dreams amplify a lot of unspoken or unwitnessed emotional ranges I go through or have experienced. My brain just puts a picture with it. I’ve had night terrors a couple times, but they usually come about when I am deeply emotionally disturbed.

Since I don’t allow myself to stifle or push aside emotions, it translates to a very unhinged dreamscape. I remember having a dream of being packed inside of a box and being able to see out of one side of it and witnessing my husband have a breakdown. I realize that my brain conjured up a live action film as to how I feel about the reality of not really being to help people unless they want help. My husband has let me in more and more the longer we are together, but he hasn’t always been like that.

What sent me was that my brain detailed EVERYTHING about that box. Down to the sound it made of me scrambling around in it, to the color, and down to that signature card board box smell.

My brother passed 4 days ago, and what was a dream, turned lucid when I opened my eyes a bit and caught sight of the black and red color scheme on my brothers jacket in my room, and I was put back into the funeral viewing home and those moments where I saw small blood speckles on his cheeks from the autopsy/embalming process. From then on my auditory senses took over and all I could hear was my stepdad crying so hard in the kitchen the day we all found out Tim died. That was days ago. But my brain replicated my stepdads crying perfectly. The thing that I hate about hearing in my dreams is how loud it is. It’s so loud and I can hear every last thing down to slight intonation variances. What eventually woke me was I started involuntarily holding my breath in my dream because at the viewing I kissed my brother and I could smell everything. The embalming fluid, the smell of blood, metal, the plastic body bag he was in, and my brain was filling my nose with that smell and I became frustrated.

Eventually fully woke up to a quiet house and a bunch of fur babies all over me and went back to sleep once peace fell over me.

I lucid dream very frequently, but I also remember large chunks of them as well. Some in great detail, some I just remember plots. My dreams seem almost like they’re indifferent to me though. Like they stem from a place within myself that doesn’t operate within the constraints of…myself. My spirit….is what I’m trying to say.

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