This morning (yeah, 11:58 is still morning), I was ripped from my dreams by a phone call from a former student needing help with the final essay of his first university class, which he had procrastinated on. My current ringtone is a lovely Julia Nunes tune, so I didn't actually catch the call before my phone clicked over to voicemail, but still, I was awake, my beautiful dreamworld fading all around me into a wistful memory of love and authentic human connection.

As I lay in bed replaying the dream and trying to recover what I lost by being flung into reality, I realized the dream was a metaphor for my life. The majority of my life is spent anticipating what others need and fulfilling those needs as best I can, no matter what happiness of my own I give up in the process, including sleep or attention to my hobbies. While I recognize that this is largely motivated by my dysfunctional childhood, which helped me develop into a pseudo-savior, I'm hesitant to totally give up this aspect of my personality because I value what we call "altruism," and I long to be adored (more childhood hang-ups).

Still, the disparity between my dreamworld and my nihilistic reality has lingered, and I'm struck with a desire to make changes in my life that could lead to a happier reality. Somehow, I need to learn how to embrace that which makes me happy and how to stop relying on my own persistent martyrdom to earn something resembling love.
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