So last night was the season 3 premiere of The Walking Dead.
It was long awaited. Highly anticipated.
It did not disappoint…..for the most point.
In therapy, I often remind my clients that we need to pay attention when people show us who they are, and then accept them for being who they are and not any more or less (and not trying to fix them, change them, or expect them to be any different).
I have had to work very hard reminding myself, each and every episode, that these characters have shown themselves to be immature, impulsive, stupid, and incredibly lucky to still be alive in their world of increasing numbers of brain-hungry walkers.
That being said, if the characters did everything I shouted at them to do, then the series wouldn’t be very exciting because they’d be happy, healthy, and safe. So I continue to yell and they continue to defy me.
Unfortunately, the agony/excitement doesn’t stop there, as these pesky walkers pranced on into my nightmares last night not once, but twice.
My first nightmare had me jolt awake at about 2:30am. I don’t remember too much about the dream, but I do know that I was in a group, my partner was included, and we were at a point where we were cornered, desperate, and fighting for our lives…and it was getting pretty gory, too. I am thankful that I woke up at that point, because I usually don’t.
Of course, I had to pee, but there was no way in hell I was gonna get up and face almost certain death and dismemberment with only the cat to protect me. I turned towards Brian and considered waking him up. He was out like a small child purposefully given too much benedryl by his parents, and I just couldn’t do it. So I rolled over and punished my too-small pee sack by ignoring it.
Brian gets up considerably earlier than I do, and his alarm woke me up this morning. By that time, my bladder was backed up to halfway through my left kidney, and so I followed Brian to the bathroom so he could protect me while I peed.
Wouldn’t you know, I had yet another zombie dream in the sleep I got between Brian’s alarm and my own. In this one, my mom and I had to go to the dentist in the middle of the zombie apocalypse (what can I say, dental hygiene is very important) so we went together for moral support and protection. When it was time to leave the dentist’s office, we noticed a lot of people cowering in the waiting room, and we looked through the blinds to see that we were pretty surrounded by the undead. Being the faithful Girl Scout that I am (our motto is “be prepared”), I reached into my purse and grabbed a giant hammer and handed it to my mom, and then I took a small axe for myself. I asked my mom if she was ready and then we started chopping and bashing our way to the car.
What a stressful way to wake up…but if that’s what I get for watching this show, then it’s all worth it.
Oh blecch! Blecch! Gah! People keep telling me to watch this show, but I have a major fear of zombies. I just can’t do it! That picture alone has furnished my crazy brain with nightmare material for the next 2.5 months.
I’m sorry to have fueled your nightmare factory.
Free therapy sessions on me.
I was really surprised I didn’t have a nightmare after this episode! I couldn’t bring myself to walk upstairs alone once it was over, of course, but otherwise, I emerged relatively unscathed. I really thought the walker’s face being torn off was going to do me in. Desensitized.
That walker’s face coming off was so. effing. awesome!