This is my post today
Been a while since I posted last. Had a difficult past 2 weeks. I didn’t want to talk or even pretend to talk. Didn’t want to blog, type, think, work….process…
I’m back. Don’t really know how I feel about that. Read through some of my previous blogs. Interesting to read what you write when you feel a different way. That’s the thing about switching personalities I guess, you don’t recognize what you wrote before. You don’t understand your own thoughts or feelings. What a strange thought. It feels weird and sad. I have been having a very strong feeling of “being present.” I’ve been asking myself the question, “You’re here, so what do you want to do?” I don’t want to hear myself but find myself really loudly present. I don’t know if this is a normal feeling I need to have….you know like…..maybe I’m finally really present so everything seems loud and real, or if it’s another one of those passing strange feelings.Who knows. These are things that, if I think about them too long, they get overwhelming so I try to find ways to keep going and move past them.
That’s all I can really do for my first day back.
I can’t help myself, I’m an observer of oddities. I find myself, “eye rolling,” TV commercials, movies, and TV shows. I get highly irritated at highly paid commercial writers and character casters. Everything has gotten so, “far out there,” that I spend more and more time laughing through productions than I do engaged in them. I find it hard to believe that people get paid big bucks to produce and create what it is I’m looking at….kind of like McDonald’s food. People pay for that? This is real food? Someone thought pink slime was a good idea? Same thing with TV. People paid for that commercial? This is “reality” TV? Someone actually thought that scene was a good idea?
I was watching a commercial today and it was for a medication. Pharmaceutical companies have money to pay for befitting commercials, right? If so, why did I watch a medication commercial today with a man and a woman camping and having some kind of alluring “Hell’s Kitchen-esk,” type meal on plates, furnished with plateware? It’s an outdoor camping scene with a campfire roaring. A woman approaches her husband and firstly, hands him a PLATE with a knife and fork. Secondly, the plate was suited with 3 perfectly cut strips of garnished roast chicken, an angelic scattering of multi-leafed tossed salad, complete with a vegetable medley….. Who thought that one out? How much did you get paid for this oh-so-realistic campfire scene? When I go camping with my family or friends, we get some grotesque pack of the cheapest hot dogs and cheap bread, some kind of generic cola and chips. Maybe I will have the hot dog on a paper plate, but it’s more likely that I will hover that crusty breaded dog with just my dirty lake water hands. I can’t imagine taking plates and tableware to the lake and serving pan roasted chicken a’la snooty with a side of pompity salad and mixed veggies……my family would ask what I was drinking and could I pass them a natty light….. Am I alone in this??
Then there are the TV families. Mom is a blond and dad has brown hair. This is fine, however in saunters the little squirts…. The toddler has black hair, the middle sister is taller than both parents put together and the oldest son has red hair and freckles……am I the only one who turns the channel at this point? I don’t care how good the show is, if it’s not realistic I just can’t buy in…..What are people thinking? But ya know…maybe in season 2 it goes into mom having 3 affairs? The milk man, a basketball player, and a year later she spent a few weeks in Ireland?? Even so, Dad doesn’t notice anything wrong….??
Friend: Hey you’re Native American right?
Dad: Yeah why?
Friend: uh, I noticed one of your kids has red hair and freckles….is he uh, adopted or something?
Dad: Oh….he uh, those are birth marks and my kid has a rare disease that alters hair color… Doesn’t he look great in his moccasins and headress.??!! *Proud flailing of the hands upward into the heavens*
Friend: uh…yeah….a real natural that one….
Director: Amazing job everyone! Perfect!!
Then there is the scene writing. The husband or boyfriend just gets done slapping the girl or calling her some obscenity. The girl turns away biting her fist and holding her stomach with the other hand. With an agonizing grimace she turns away and says, ” But I love you!!” The man turns to the woman and says, “I love you too! I am so sorry!!” They cry on each other and get on a pontoon or gondola and float away. What? No! That real-life girl screams back and they engage in some mortal combat and some hair pulling, or the throwing of objects until one of them leaves and slams the door on the way out. The slamming door vibrates the panel walls, and knocks down some kind of home interior sconce or rattls a few crusted over baby bottles sitting on the shelf. The guy acts like a butt who is unwilling to apologize and decides to stay gone for the day so he can call her a biznitch as many times as possible without her hearing it. The girl goes to work and tells all her co-workers how her life has now ended and throws herself across her desk in a full tilt sob fest while her parents try to talk her in to getting a restraining order. (This occurs only if they don’t wound each other brutally and the police are on the front lawn.)
And then of course there’s my favorite action scene. You know, the one where the good guy gets into a car chase and his car flies off the road into the ditch? Only it doesn’t just go into the ditch! The car ramps a semi first, flies over a few small children, and then rolls 14 times. Just when you think the show has ended because the hero of the series is now dead, triumphant music begins to play as said hero begins to move around in the car. He’s alive, praise God he’s alive!! Mr. Hero unbuckles his seat belt and comes crashing to the ground and crawls out of the car. Mr. Hero generally has a 3 inch gash on his forehead with a trickle of blood and a limp. But sometimes it’s a brutal day for the hero. The hero I watched yesterday had a 2-3ft chunk of metal piercing through his entire body. In one side and out the other. Mr. Hero grabs the metallic sceptor of death and rips it out of his body, grabs his gun and takes off running.He then steals a motorcycle, ramps it a few times and catches the bad guy…… all the while retouching his hair on the way. I only dream of looking that good after spending 3 hours in the bathroom every morning. Maybe I should jump a semi and crash my car too……
Oh blessed TV, what would we do without you? In reality, if TV didn’t exist, I wouldn’t have such interesting things to blog about. Now that I’m thinking about it, if TV didn’t exist, we would probably have a higher GPA, lower BMI.
Golden leaves Golden sun
Golden armor Golden gun
Golden eagle Golden bars
Golden label Golden cars
Golden teeth Golden spear
Golden collar Golden year
Golden bracelet Golden ring
Golden streets Golden King
Golden trophy Golden sax
Golden girls Golden wax
I chose my title because I raged out today. I raged because I’m angry. I’m angry because I am. I’m angry because I’m not. I’m angry because it’s available. I’m still angry. I’m angry while I’m typing. I’m seething. I raged out today.
I raged out because I couldn’t get the computer to highlight properly and I lost all control. I thrashed my computer and was scared while I was doing it. I don’t want to ruin my computer. I don’t want to ruin anything. Rip paper, throw a book, break something you don’t really need. That was the last straw. How many straws did I go through today??….not sure. Enough to feed a small herd of fat ass cattle. I don’t know. I came back to my computer to see if it still works. It does, so now I’m pouring all this shit out on to my blog in hopes that it will help because that’s why I’m doing this in the first place. So here’s all my crap I’m trying to process.
I raged out today because I forgot to take my meds all day and am feeling withdrawls. I’m not even sure I took them like I was suppose to yesterday. I don’t know if I took them at all….I’m sure I did. At least one dose. I forget all the time. I write myself notes, tack post-its to things hoping I remember to take them down before someone else see’s them, I set alarms on my phone. Nothing is helping me to remember. I hate withdrawls because it reminds me of the fact that I forget and that makes me really angry. Angry enough to squint my eyes and allow a few angry tears to come out.
I raged out today because I am an adult and should be able to take care of myself and feel completely inept to do so.This makes me feel really stuipd, therefore really angry.
I raged out today because I tried to go to church again. It was a major mistake on my part. A huge loss. Regardless that I tried, it was a failure. Back to TV and online preachers.
I raged out because someone else was stressed and ridiculous and decided to try and control things. This made me mad. The “thing,” is mine. Don’t try to control my “thing.” If you don’t like it, you can excuse yourself and I don’t need to hear your anxieties, gripes and demands. It’s mine and if you don’t like it then bow out. No one is forcing you to be here. Don’t volunteer and then gripe because you don’t like it. For God sake just leave!!
I raged out because I didn’t want to hear your voice today. I don’t want to hear your voice for a while. I don’t need you around me right now. You need to stay away. Why did I answer the phone? It’s my own fault I answered the phone and that makes me angry.
I raged out because of my dreams and my sessions coming in my head all at one time.
I raged out because I had a flash of my counselor weilding a meter stick at me and this made me angry and hurt, even though it’s not true.
I raged out because all this drama makes me sick. I’m sick of it. It makes me sick. Everyone else’s blogs about all their symptoms and medicine and pain and abuse. It makes me sick. I’m sick for all of you and I’m mad for all of you.
I’m angry because I don’t know what to do. Nothing makes sense and I don’t understand anything right now. Wise people would say, “Ok now that you know what the problem is, what are you going to do about it?” I really don’t know and that’s the God’s honest truth. I don’t know anything. I’m tired of trying to know what to do. I buy books, workbooks, go to my appointments, pray, work hard, do my best to help others, keep my head above water, try to remember to take my medicine, try to process on a freaking blog, get up and move, clean something, turn on the TV. What else do I do? I’m most afraid that I’m running out of things to do. This scares me so much. Im running out. I’m running out of things to do and it scares me. I lose my breath at the thoughts of running out of things to try. I have nothing left in my arsenal. What happens when I run out? I blog and hyperventilate. I grow weary and agitated and crazy minded. I get winded and angry. I think of all the wreckless things I could do but I know I can’t do any of them. I think of all the positive things to do….wait a minute I’ve tried all the ones I know.Wipe one of the tears….let the other one fall so you feel something. I want to call someone but I can’t think of one person to call at 11PM and say, “I’m angry and want to be destructive.” Who the heck do I say that to? And who do I call at 11PM. So I just shout at God. “Hey you up there!! You with the giant kingdom and power in your fingertips!! I’m angry!!! I’m mad!! I hate everything!! I am being destructive down here and am running out of things to do!!!” What does he think of this? I have no idea. Maybe I caught his attention and he heard one of the words I was yelling….he looked down and thought, “Oh Lord….what are you doing!!!” He then turns back to drawing doodles in the clouds and rolls his eyes. He grabs the Sunday paper to see what’s going on in the middle east and asks David to strum a lovely tune. I have an add on the back of that newspaper in the “help wanted” section for an available person for retarded midnight phone calls and one in the “want to buy,” section for large horse tranquilizers, or any drug of similar value.
Rant over. I think I have regained some composure.
God, if you’re not busy right now I earnestly need help here. I truly am afraid I’m running out of things that will be positive. I feel like the things I am doing to help are also harming in ways. I am really confused today and my behavior really sucks. I prayed last night that you would hold my hand if I had to deal with scary and now it seems like I’m backing out of that prayer. Maybe I am weaker than I thought. I’m so horribly weak that even you holding my hand through this isn’t good enough for me right now. I don’t know how much more honestly I can put that. Can you just help me feel that little warm feeling that I get sometimes? That little warm feeling for a minute when I knew you were there? Just for a little bit. I watched everyone raising their hands today at church and it made me mad that they were all in a trance with you and I stood there. I know you were there but I guess I wasn’t. It was like I was in another room completely. It was like I was wandering around in the hallway in my jeans and t-shirt trying to find the door into the great room where everyone was dancing in flowing gowns and men had their hair up in a grey wigs and wearing leggings with polished shoes and big buckles. I’m pretty sure my Tshirt was a size too big and had a few stains….. I just need you to tell me everything is ok and I am going to be ok. Only you can do that for me, and only I can do that for myself. Help me overcome my “self/selves.” Help me overcome my anger and outbursts. I don’t want to behave this way. I am an angry person right now and you still love me. The machine is my mind and I am raging against it.
I write “Get Away From Me,” because that’s all I can think right now. Get away from me. I don’t know to whom or to what I am referring. I don’t know if I’m yelling at the devil, a demon from my history, a current subconscious “thing,” or a stressful day, or an intense week. It is about 5:30AM my time and I just woke up and am shaken by my dreams.
I actually talked to someone earlier about dreams and described one that I had last night. My dreams have been completely fine for weeks, maybe months. I use to suffer night terror episodes as a child and would have dream cycles. When I finally woke up I would be so convinced that I was still asleep and in another dream, that I would either be frozen in terror waiting for the next, “thing,” or I would be in physical motion and doing things like; stripping my clothes off in full panic mode because I was on fire in my dreams. (mother enters room at 3Am baffled).
Last nights dream:
I was standing behind a semi truck when the back door opens. When the door opens, multitudes, thousands, millions, trillions of tiny mites come tumbling out of the semi and start covering me up. These things are starting to bite and cover me up. My mother is there but she doesn’t know what to do. I want to call to her but if I open my mouth all these mites will tumble into my mouth. I have to keep my mouth closed and hope that she understands that it is time to unfreeze and grab me! I was writhing around on the ground trying to unbury myself and doing my best not to breathe deep because doing so would invite the mites into my nose and stop my breathing. I was about to get overwhelmed and completely covered. I panicked in my dream and woke up immediately. When I woke up I could feel the mites on me for a moment and I jerked up, kicked my blankets, and started moving my arms as much as I could for just having woken up, to brush off the bugs. Once I moved my arms a few times I snapped into reality and let out a huge gasp of air. I had been holding my breath. I layed back down and sighed. I went back to sleep not long after. In the morning I realized that having a dream like that kind of bothered me but I refused to let in that feeling of being “covered up/smothered/incapacitated/helpless,” get to me. I refused it passage into a part of my mind that would want to hold it, stare at it, give it a home, fear it and obsess on it. Not today Zurg. My mind hears Buzz Lightyears recorded voice in the toy.
So tonight Mr. Thing stepped it up a notch since being defeated the night before. I am going to process every detail of my dream for my own intentions. Sorry if it gets to extensive. This is for me. I don’t get up at 5:30AM after having nightmares and blog for you. (Thank you for allowing me to process. Come and process with me)
I had cyclic dreams tonight. The most horrible and graphic nightmares. I dreamed my best friend (my dog) broke her leg. In my dream I had left my “baby,” in a parking lot and she was run over. I ran to her completely out of control in horror to find her unable to use her legs. I looked down and could see ripped skin, blood, her tissue coming out and her bones broken in half. I grabbed her and put her in my car, again strangely enough my mom was close by (mom doesn’t show up in dreams hardly ever). My mom was hurting for me and was going to try to help in some way but she quickly disappeared. My dog and I were rushing to a veterinarian. I fumbled trying to use my cell phone and then the cell phone disappeared. I began driving but it started raining and some kind of strange weather came that covered the windshield of my car and the right and left windows. There was a complete blur in front of me and only small breaks of smeared glass on the right and left where I could see the lines in the road. I tried frantically to look ahead, right and left to get my bearrings in the road and still drive.
Dream shifts to doctors office. I am basically running around the parking lot and inside the building for the majority of this section of the dream looking for the veterinarian. I sense that my precious best friend is fading and may already be dead. I am filled with grief and panic. I find the vet and he is in the middle of doing something else, visiting with his secretary and he tells me to give him a few moments and continues his discussion. I am flustered and upset. I know that at some point I talked to him but he vanishes and I am in another dream sequence.
I now am going through a mini cycle. This is a term that I made up on my own. Instead of a regular dream cycle being moved and shifted from dream to dream with interactions and regular dream stuff, I move into a rash of small and similar dream sequences. My mini cycle tonight includes the following sequences:
*I am at the top of a water slide fully clothed in street clothes. The lifeguard looks at me and asks why I don’t have on a bathing suit. I have no idea. SHIFT
*I am back in the vet office looking for my dog and I can’t find her. SHIFT
*I am in an airport (very common dream right here) I have no idea where my luggage is or what flight I am suppose to be boarding. I don’t know where I am going or if I have a ticket. SHIFT
*I am at a concert and can’t find my instrument. SHIFT
*I get hit in the mouth (common dream) and my teeth are crumbling and falling out
*I am in high school/college band again and I can’t find parts of my uniform and we are about to perform. SHIFT
Now I go back to a regular dream:
There was some movement in this dream that I can’t remember but where I can start remembering was that I was at the scene of a terrible crime. Officers are removing a body from a store and I am talking at a phone booth outside the store. The body rolls by me.
I use to dream of dead bodies alot. When i was younger, I could smell their odor in my dreams and if I woke up from the fear, I could smell the odor in my room. I remember being so scared that there was a dead body close by, I would be frozen awake for hours in the middle of the night. I remember one night running to the kitchen and hiding under the table.
The police moved the body and walked down the street to their patrol cars. My car was parked near by and I walked to my car as well. I watched a strange man approach the police from his awkwardly parked car in the ditch. (parked pependicular to the road) The man approached the officer and started asking questions about the murder. I could feel this man’s spirit and his intent. I knew I was looking at the killer and when he looked at me, he knew that I knew. I felt the knowledge in his eyes as he looked at me. He knew that I knew and it horrified me. I thought, “Why can I feel this man? Now he knows that I know.”
(I had to pause from typing right here because this feeling registers something with me)
The man however goes back to his car and gets in and is preparing to drive off scott free. I run up to the officer who is now in his car. When I look at the officer he is jotting down the man’s description and license plate. I give the officer a tap and nod to the man in the vehicle and say, “It’s him.” The officer knows what I’m saying and I know that he was thinking the same thing. He starts his car and peels out. At the same time I look and give the murderer a nod, he see’s me and knows that I have given him away to the police. As the officer is starting his vehicle, the man’s window rolls down and he weilds a gun. I grab a peice of debris in the road and hurl it at the man as he tries to shoot me and get away at the same time. The man continues to fire at me and is giving me an evil smirk. Death is in his eyes. Random detail: He is driving a white sports/luxury car.
Previously in dreams I have not fought back at my assailants. I have never stood ground or given their identities to police officers (If this happens to be the scenario). People trying to harm and murder me in dreams happened often.
Not only do I hurl objects at this man but the officers car is stuck or he has some minor crash so I jump in my car and give pursuit to the murderous man. I have no clue what I am going to do if I catch him. I follow him for quite a distance jetting up one street, and jogging down another, then around one corner and then a series of rights and lefts and then it occurs to me that the evil man is leading me somewhere. As soon as I realize he has been leading me in a maze-trap, I find my car spinning out of control. He has led me to some kind of oil slick and my car is spinning and spinning and spinning. As the car spins, a very familiar building begins to appear. I am spinning head long to a building that I have never seen in reality, but in my dreams I have been there. I don’t know what happens to me in this building but it is evil, murderous, torturous, atrocious, horrid, black, dark, full of demons young and old, serpents, spiders and anything else your mind is most afraid of. Rape, loss of a loved one, dead bodies, harm to your most beloved pet in the world, migraine headaches, heart attacks, someone that no longer loves you, war, bombs, terrorists, the twin towers, puke, mites, and warts. I am headed to this building, this representation of satan himself. In my dreams I remember being in this building, in my dream something happened to me here and I was horrified and knew I was going to slam in to it. I was out of control and there was nothing I could do. I knew it was inevitable that I would meet that building. As soon as I surrendered, I immediately mentally planted my feet and just closed my eyes and said, “No.” No I am not going back there. No I am not going to re-live that. No I am not going in there. I heard a thunderous roar like an airplane just above my head hurling toward the ground with the pitch/tone of the roar moving downward as it got closer to the ground. I ducked my head but was still defiantly saying, “No!” when my dream ended abruptly and I woke up. When I woke up I could feel the horror and could still hear the roar. Anxiety and panic covered me from the top of my head to the bottom of my feet. If you deal with panic or anxiety, you know the feeling. If you haven’t ever felt it, then I would liken it to finding out that a loved one had passed away tragically or just imagine you personally standing in the building I described. I lay there until the sensation left my legs and peace gradually moved it’s way up through my body with the discovery that it wasn’t true. It was a dream. I made sure the roar wasn’t a result of an airplane nearby or the TV on, and all was quiet. The roar came from my dream/head. I went to my dog as soon as I could get to my feet. I gave her a hug and just for mind-sake, I checked her legs and rubbed them a few times and told her that I loved her. She sniffed my hands and licked my face, then laid her fuzzy little face back down on her blanket and puffed a sigh. It gave me peace and relief. I smiled at her tender brown eyes, her little black nose and her funny little whiskers. My dog rules.
Initially I am glad that I said, “No,” in my dream, thus ending said nightmare. After thinking and trying to decipher my dream, I don’t know what I was saying “No,” to. Was I refusing a victimization (which is good) or was I refusing to venture into memories…..something I couldn’t quite remember, something I’m afraid of?…..Something I can’t fathom going to.
A lot has happened over the past few days. Positive things for my survival and healing. I don’t know how anyone else feels about their dreams but sometimes my dreams are so vivid and real that I have to give them space in my life to be considered. I don’t know how to feel about this dream but all I could think when I woke up was, “Get Away From Me.” (In regard to still seeing the building when I woke up) I am so tired and I hope that I am making sense as my nerves and emotions feel on full tilt.
My prayer this morning before I go back to bed:
God thank you for giving me the ability to process this and get it all out. I ask you to help me in whatever divine, spiritual, or holy truth that you have. If it’s just peace then I will take that. If you lead me to the building I ask you to hold my hand and don’t let go. If you lead me away from it then I am so grateful. I ask you for courage and strength to face anything that comes. I ask you to grant wisdom and knowledge to me, Mr. Q, Dr W and any close friend in which I confide. I ask you to protect my family and continue to allow me to forgive them and I thank you for the courage you grant to forgive. You are the ultimate forgiver and the master peace bringer. I ask you to keep me, my dog and my family safe from harm. I also thank you for being the ultimate conqueror and the real, “Ultimate Fighter.” And seeing as how you are those two things, I know that my family, dog and I are well protected. I have needed the protection of a father my entire life. How cool it is to know that my FATHER is an “ultimate fighter.” You probably have some vicious arm bars and choke hold moves for your enemy. Will you teach me? You know my weaknesses and you know I’m a doubter. You know I get overwhelmed and you know that I struggle with feelings. You know that I do not “feel” you and it doesn’t matter to you. You love me anyway. I am glad that you know these things about me and love me. You continue to make your way to me as I continue to make my way to you. I thank you for the little peices of “feeling,” that I get occassionally and know that there is more to come. I pray that when I go back to bed in a few minutes, you are watching me and guarding me. Brush off the PESTILENCE that flies by day and the arrow that flies by night. In your name I pray. Amen.
Oh little hot tamale you tiny little thing,
You make my day much brighter with your cinnamony sting.
Jelly beans and Mike and Ike’s, they’ve all cast you out,
You’re all alone in your great big box and they all have they’re pals.
Well I just think they’re jealous of your zesty little zing,
I hope they all spill on the floor and and receive a trampling.
Who wants a crowded bag of colored candy, confusing on the tongue?
I just want a single flavor in my mouth, a little tiny red one.
You have a special place at my house in a pretty jar,
And I pour boxes of you in a bag so I can take you in my car.
Oh little hot tamale, you make all my dreams come true,
I am your very best friend, I’m stuck to you like glue!
Hot tamales! Yum!! LOL #feelingrandomandsilly