After a massive kick to the mind nuts your wounded brain thinks about it; day and night. So I had nightmares. At one point there was an exam—so a school memory joined forces—and for some reason I had to leave the exam to do some important work thing knowing it would cause me to fail.How I go in a day is oft determined by bad dreams before waking. If it's a nasty one my active brain goes back to the territory where the dream spawned from and I'm lost in the hurt, dark and sads of what happened to me. Sometimes they just flit away with no impact; a gossamer thread on the wind.My frequency and severity of bad dreaming will be up, likely for weeks, as I process my hurt, failure and rejection. It's the mind's way of sorting crap out, compartmentalizing it. I put on my wall, in eye view, "It happened, I accept that". It's meant to stand for all the things that have happened to me and my attempt to accept those happenings. It's part of active brain work against primeval sads that inflict your upside down brain.I've found it comforting but now occasionally irritating because it keeps happening and I keep having to accept it. There are entire schools of thought that revolve around life, how to live it and accept that it must end. There are people that embrace these thoughts and live serene, peaceful lives. I am not one of them; my life was never serene or peaceful. It's been a fight from the beginning; a bruising, dragging knock down fight where again and again I am dropped to the mat and there seems little purpose to get back up and continue.But I'll keep on getting up because getting back up is what the fuck I do.WFTW.