When Your Mind Plays Tricks on You, or Hallucinations

November6 6, 2016

One thing I learned in 75 years: ignore nightmares or hallucinations. I distinctly remember a nightmare when I was about five. I cowered in bed next to my mom. Every time I peeked another figure leered at me—George Washington, Donald Duck, and the like. But I kept peeking. Last night I didn’t look.

Having lost two nights’ sleep, I decided the best way to handle nightmares was to ignore them. So when my secret friends gathered in the yard, I took one long look—and went to the bathroom. The art du jour last night was sort of an impressionistic painting of a 19^th-century artist studio, perhaps in Manhattan. People mingle and visit and art lines the walls along with gold-framed mirrors. The colors are muted—blue and a sort of taupe, lots of beige and off-white. It reminds me of a Degas or the lines from the Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock: In the room the women come and go talking of Michelangelo. It is an inviting scene, and I could linger. I don/t though--I will have a couple more chances during the night, but I ignore them too.

And when I wake in a purple and lavender bedroom, I sigh and close my eyes, knowing it will return to its lovely soft yellow. The result is that I wakened this morning refreshed and well aware of where I was, whereas the two previous mornings I was disoriented, sure that I’d been moved out of my cottage even though I saw it all around me.

A puzzlement: when I first saw the crowd in the artist’s studio, Sophie went crazy, barking to go out (I didn’t fall for it). It was the bark she uses to tell me she has to investigate our safety outside. Do you suppose she “sees” my hallucination?

Update on Luke

Sophie and Luke aren't exactly best friends yet but they have progressed to playing tug of war, which is really cute. Accompanied by blood-curdling growls on Sophie's part and silent concentration from Luke. For the first week or so, he didn't bark, and I thought we had a non-barker. I've since learned that's typical of rescue dogs. Now he barks a lot because he takes his responsibilities as guardian of the house very seriously--sometimes in the middle of the night. Last night Jordan spent the night, and Luke went wild when she got up to use the bathroom, then again at 5:30 a.m. when she got up to organize their garage sale (read on). Unless I'm quieting him, Luke barks at strangers, and he still barks at Jacob, which scares Jacob particularly when he gets in and out of bed with Luke in his crate.
But Luke is adapting to the house. If Sophie didn't provoke him, he'd be a great house dog--well, with a little training and relaxation. He frequently paces from room to room, though occasionally he'll settle down by my side. When he's off wandering in the house I have to watch because he has trouble discriminating what is his from what is mine--a remote is one victim. Forget rubber toys--those left over that Scooby had for years and Sophie has had for three and a half are now destroyed. Knotted ropes work best, as in the picture above.
Luke loves his crate--maybe because I sometimes feed him there (he's always ravenous), maybe because other times I lure him there with his pills wrapped in a bit of cheese, and possibly because it's a refuge from Sophie. But he happily goes prancing in and doesn't try to escape while I fiddle with the door.
I've had Luke four weeks and two days, and I think he's a different dog--beginning to feel more comfortable. When he barks, I praise and reassure him, and I spend some time just stroking his head and face (I don't want anyone else to do that!) and telling him he really does live here.
Today was the great garage sale--my street gets much more traffic than theirs, so Jordan and Christian beg and plead and I give in. My house was a disaster the last two days, filled with more junk than I can imagine. I did just what I threatened--hid in the house all day. Because the kids were in and out, I left the dogs in the back yard until early afternoon. Amazing the amount of work I got done--including getting a needed picture of a Coney Island dog before I served it to Christian. Kids think they did fairly well on the sale though there's a lot left. Anyone want a '50s modern wood table with an inlaid dentil pattern on the ends of the drop-down leaves? If I had room, I'd keep it. Jordan and Christian are exhausted. I feel just fine, thank you very much. And here's another shot from last night: