The meeting took place in the kitchen of a house I don’t think I’ve ever been in. Everyone was stark naked, openly exposed as it were. I was dripping wet and toweled off as my mother made her announcement. The mother called the meeting to let everyone know she’d had enough of her two daughters and was moving out. Two teenage boys (black, unknown) told the mother if she moved in with them they’d take care of her and wouldn’t abandon her needs like her daughters did. She said she was grateful but wanted to go live with an older lady until my sister and I got ourselves together enough to accept her back into the household. My sister excused herself and wasn’t seen again in the dream until the very end.
Monthly Archive for August, 2009
Page 3 of 4
The full dream is written here.
COMMENTARY:
Before I went to bed last night I thought, man I need a good hot meal and a nice glass of water. When I had bulimia-like issues so long ago it was only junk food I’d keep down. I’d binge heavily and keep it down faster than if I ate a healthy meal. If I ate a good meal I didn’t sweat for I’d almost immediately throw it up. I didn’t think I deserved good food I didn’t break my back or trade my body to get. In the dream when I lived with her I ate junk food but vowed to eat healthy when she left. I think in the dream instead of it being a symbol that I’d throw it up I was showing that I’d leave behind the idea that all I was worth was crap. I think my self worth attached to food was turned the right way. Junk food in excess is abusive to the body, healthy food helps you thrive. The dream started in the kitchen and pretty much kept the food theme through out.
I don’t know that there’s a theme to this entry, it’s just a collection of thoughts.
I’m happy my therapist will be back on Monday. I haven’t called the babysitter therapist he left for me and more than likely won’t. I asked for him because I wanted that option if I needed it. I could have used a few encouraging words from a therapist but I want my therapist.
I have an overwhelming sense of failure and find little pleasure in life which says to me I’m depressed.
I had a dream last night that I drank poison because I didn’t want to live anymore.
I still struggle with suicidal ideation from time to time. I think right now I’m “just” tired and exhausted by my mind, my body and my living situation. I feel run down and like I haven’t been able to recharge enough to rekindle the spark of my natural fight.
I’m trying my best not to be too discouraged by my health. I hoped I wouldn’t have to deal with Fibro and Lupus together and I didn’t. The Fibro flare lasted for about 2 months but its slowing down. I think part of my depression comes from signs that I’m about to deal with more Lupus symptoms. The very thought of it depresses me. These bruises are so ugly. I spent yesterday throwing my guts up and trying to keep this fever down. More doctor appointments, more med changes….I don’t even want to think about it.
One of the things I miss the most about being in a relationship is having someone next to me while I sleep. I miss having someone to hold and to lay close to. I miss snoring and cuddling. I miss closeness to something that doesn’t have fur. My dog and cat are helpful but they aren’t able to fill companionship that I need from a human being.
When I go to bed I feel like it’s acknowledgment that I’ve given up on the day. I’ve wasted it and now as if it were worthless I’ll lay down, close my eyes and rest from the exhaustion of nothingness. What happens if I die before I wake? I haven’t taken advantage of the many opportunities I had to set things right. Even if I were promised tomorrow the only guarantee I could offer is that I’ll again squander my opportunity to set matters right. On my fast track to self destruction I’ll turn my back on the most important things ever.
Sleep produces brain vomit. Every half digested, unprocessed and stuffed down memory or issue will come up with hurricane force. When I wake I’ll toss sawdust to cover the stench of rotting memories and attempt to board up broken windows with empty platitudes like “This too shall pass” and “What doesn’t kill you will only make you stronger.”
All in all, sleep is not my friend nor is it my enemy. It too is at the mercy of mental indigestion and emotional diarrhea.
It’s 4:30am. I should have been in bed hours ago.
I miss my dog Captain.
Faith
I wonder if now that I’m two years old I can play the “terrible twos” card? I doubt mama will let me get away with that.
Will I still have to take naps during the day? I’m a big boy now. Even though I’m sort of sleeping I’ve out grown my need for naps, especially with that teddy bear. He’s so fluffy though, and tasty.
What major life changes are ahead for me now that I’m all grown up, tall, tan and handsome if I do say so myself. Will I be wise and patient? Kind and thoughtful or will I continue to push the cat out of the way to steal her food? I kinda like her food. I suppose I should keep some part of my youth which means I should continue to pester the cat by licking her when she least expects it. The look on her face is hilarious. And the way she flips her paws around to get my slobber off is roll on your back funny. No matter how old I get that’ll always give me a belly laugh. Oh, oh and when I sniff her butt she screeches at me and runs! I get a real kick out of that too. Despite my age I should keep some of my youthfulness.
All this talk of age has me tired. I think I’ll have a snack then claim my spot on the loveseat for a quick snooze. Bothering Bella can wait a few hours.
Good night everyone and may you enjoy your youth while you have it. Before you know it you’ll be two years old and youth will be a thing of the past.
…yawn… Where’s my bear?
Gus
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Dr. D will be on vacation for a week. Usually I don’t have issues when my therapist leaves but I’m not in the best possible space so he got me a baby sitter while he’s gone. I was invited to come in to see the babysitter but I told him all I really wanted was the option to call if I needed it.
Right now I’m getting a little more sleep than usual but… of course there’s a but… nightmares are just as ugly as usual. In my dreams I’m being strangled or I have my life threatened by my mother. In last night’s dream I was at the movies with a Deaf woman in a wheelchair. She was eating oatmeal through a tube. She kept accidentally running over me with her chair. I tried to tell her it hurt but she didn’t seem to care. She wanted me out of her way and that was about it. As she rolled over my feet again the floor gave way. Before she fell through the scene changed to me searching for my mother. I kept saying, “I want my mama, where’s mama?” My sister told me she’d left and didn’t want us anymore. I kept saying, “I want her. Where’s mama?” When I found her she was sleeping in the restroom of the school I went to in the 8th and 9th grade. She had a bunk bed (she slept on the top). She had a night stand and art on the walls. She’d made the restroom into a nice little nook away from us. Since I had to use the restroom I went to the back but was unable to use it because both were filled and dirty.
Yesterday Indiana got 3.8 inches of rain. It rained all day long. There were downed trees, power lines, and flooding everywhere. The lightening was incredible, so much so that Fife Junior moved from the garage into the second bedroom upstairs. That means he’s now living inside the house full time. The space he’s sleeping in on the floor is only enough for him to lie on his back or stomach. He can’t roll over or move. The only thing he can do is sleep. He squirms to get in that little spot.
I talked to Dr. D today about how little sleep we’ve been getting and how having him here has changed our sleeping habits. Fife Junior is no threat to us physically but he is emotionally. Every conversation is about how much he hates gays. He started this crap the last time he lived here. He calls himself a homophobe, says he doesn’t care who knows it. I can’t even go there right now. He’s so offensive in his speech that Destiny stays forward to deal with him.
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