Nocturnal Self-Harm

When I was younger, I used to find myself waking up with a bleeding nose every so often. Most of the time, I couldn't figure out why but, on a few notable occasions, I woke up during the event that caused it, rather than afterward.

Once, I was banging my face into my pillows.

Once, I had my finger jammed up my nose.

I mention this only because I have now experienced a new variation on this theme - thankfully one not involving my nose.

I was having a strange dream about travelling somewhere by train. I was on a station platform that seemed to be underground, though the layout was something like the nearest station to my parents' home - that is, there's the open platform, a covered-over but otherwise open 'waiting area', and a staircase leading up to the ticket office. Something about this dream station (the darkness, maybe?) made it seem to be located in a natural underground cavern - the columns looked more like stalagmites and stalactites that had joined together, rather than something built.

An old friend of mine was there as well, so it seemed as though we were going wherever together, and we were trying to decide where on the platform would be best to stand. There was plenty of choice - other than the two of us, I saw maybe three people occupying the platform.

That is, until the train arrived... whereupon floods of people seemed to come from the walls, pushing toward the train and, in that fashion typical of frequent passengers of the London Underground, pushing other people out of the way to ensure they got themselves on.

My friend and I eventually managed to squeeze on, though I can't even be sure that we were in the same carriage. Most of my attention was occupied by a small boy who was doing something annoying. What it was, I don't recall - I really should have written this up yesterday, when it was fresh(er) in my mind - but it must have been serious because I eventually grabbed him by the throat, lifted him up (actually made easier by the crowding) and proceeded to throttle him, while he tried to laugh it off.

And then, when I woke up, I found my right forearm was going numb, because I was strangling it (just above the elbow) with my left hand.

Curiously, in the dream, I was throttling the boy with my right hand.

Strange things, dreams...

I had a call from my bank today... one of those "just checking... what can we do for you?" type of calls that seem entirely superfluous, though I'm sure the banks feel they are a vital tool in ensuring that customers feel 'cared for'.

Point of fact, banks: If you really want to care for your customers, increase your fucking interest rates. 0.01%? Versus what kind of profits you're making off our backs? Are you fucking serious?

There was some guff about their insurance offers - combining life insurance and contents insurance on one policy? - but nothing of any genuine use... Good old banks, eh?