Mi familia

In a few days I’ll be heading to a family reunion type of gathering. Both looking forward to it and not. Totally looking forward to  getting away from the heat. Weather forecast is about 20 degrees cooler than here. (I KNOW!!)

Luckily my family usually isn’t one to pull the “when are you getting married,” crap, so I’m lucky there. I did have a non-church-going boyfriend the last time I went up there. One aunt asked, “and how do we feel about that?” I commented that I don’t go much either, so it didn’t really bother me. Had a bit of a non-invasive, genuine and open discussion that didn’t last all that long. She’s one of my fave’s. (and she’s even married to a pastor).

All in all, my family is really cool. I really like them. Sure, there’s quirks, but mostly they’re all really cool. And there are enough other issues going on that the unmarried cousin doesn’t get that much negative attention. I think they think I can do no wrong. What little do they know!

Then there’s also these “standards” that I’m supposed to live up to. And I have to … I don’t know… mom expects me to act or be a certain way. In all reality? More of seen and not heard.  Don’t stir the pot, don’t shake the cradle,..whatever that is. And now that I think about it, that’s how “we all” are with grandpa. He’s the authoritarian (not in a super bad way. Like not in an abusive way), we listen. We don’t argue. Well, some of the kids (his daughters) do. We sure as heck don’t, that’s for sure.

Anyway, I know it’ll be a good trip. Small Town America and all. May give me fodder for future blogs, but I kinda hope not.

More dreams

More dreams last night. Lots. Lots of bad ones. Like people were mad at me. Even my best of friends were angry or upset with me. Like really mad. And this other group of women? They all had a slumber party and I was invited to the morning stuff, but they ALL gathered without me. And they talked about me and how I was a bad person.

Couple nights ago, I remember screaming at least twice during the course of the dream(s). I woke up with a dry throat. I don’t know if I screamed out loud or made those noises that you sometimes make when you want to scream, but can’t. Or  you’re in a dream and can’t scream for real.

I did have one where I witnessed a really, really horrible car crash. I wonder if that’s when I screamed? I don’t remember now. I was not driving (I’m rarely driving in my dreams, which I know is significant). A car sped past us, flipped over. I could see the underside of it. Not sure about the people in it. Don’t remember them, if they lived or not or if they were even relevant. The wreck was horrible, though.

It’s so damn hot out, my house does not cool off. I wake up sweating sometimes. Sometimes I wake up and move to the couch because it’s cooler and darker in the living room. I’m pondering starting there tonight, despite my awesomely comfortable bed.

blah and stuff

It’s late.

I should go to bed. But, really, why do I need to? Yes, I’ve got lots to do tomorrow, but really I could nap too, if I wanted. I’m helping B with packing, too (Hi, B!).

Oh, and the lots to do is stuff like visit Lowe’s, go to the grocery store (need to make a list!), Wally World… stuff like that. May or may not make some purchases, but do need to look at a few things. I have a lot of calls to make. Doctors and lawyers and such. Okay, really, just doctors of those two.

I need to go through that magazine pile and I need to put that stuff there. It’s late and I’m awake; I could work now. Could work on that list now. Well, some of it. Although open, I will not be going to Wally World at midnight. No, thanks.

Been home awhile now, but of course didn’t get working on that list, unless blogging and reading were on it.

Not much point to this blog. Just checking in. Got those creative juices flowing again and I need to do something with them.

Water

Had another water dream.

There were lots of people there. Was like a reunion of sorts or something.

There was this big scary “thing” in the water. The main actor (b/c it wasn’t me, but it was like a movie) had to go get the thing–like a monkfish or something. The water was cloudy. As the thing swam toward our protagonist, I jerked big time, in the movie (as the camera person? as the protagonist? as me? in real life?) and woke myself up. I think I threw my hands in front of me to stop it or to scream or something.

Before I decided to leave my former job, but was very unhappy, I had lots of water dreams.

Water is in my dream a lot. Big oceans and seas and rivers and stuff, usually. One thought is that “water” is your subconscious. This water was icky, gross and scary last night.  I woke up, my heart pounding.

Grieving Process

“It’s a grieving process.” I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard that in the past 2 years. And it is. And I’ve been through the same damn grieving process 800 times. And it sucks each time. But each time I secretly did have someone/thing to fall back on. And now I’m going through it again.

There is more I want to say. There is more I want to say. There is more I want to say that is probably not worth it.

I. Am. So. Hurt. Nauseated. Sick. Untrusting. I think of things and have to brush them away. I think of lots of things. And I have to brush them all away. Have to make myself forget them. Have to remember good things. Have to ignore that while it was good for me, it was like double-dipping for others. When I said it was uneven, I had no idea how spot on I was.

So unfair.

My guts, my hugs

You should know a few things about me. If you know me well enough, some of them you should know already.

I’m a hugger. I love giving hugs, I love recieving hugs. I think they are powerful. Now, I know some of you are not huggers, and that’s okay. I’ll give you your space. But for me, I think there is something powerful about the healing touch of a good hug.

I think hugs go both ways. I give a little bit of (joy, love, caring…fill in your own word), and from you, I receive a bit of (joy, love, caring, understanding, comfort…).

At a former job, a mom came to me concerned about her daughter who had ran away. She came to my office, we talked, she cried, we hugged. That was the first time in my life I didn’t “get” anything from the other hugger. It was like she had nothing left to give.  She was completely drained.

It stuck out in my mind as the only time I haven’t “received” anything back from a hug, and that concept never meant anything to me until I had that experience.

Had my second one recently. There was lots of discussion, lots of tears, lots of confusion, anger, upsetness, hurt. When we hugged, it was like I couldn’t even open my mind/body/heart to it. I got nothing from that hug. I couldn’t let myself.

You should also know I’m a very quick, but good judge of people. Now, I don’t get “vibes” from people at the grocery store, and yes, sometimes my radar is off, but rarely has my gut instinct steered me in the wrong direction. Met several people a few years ago.  (maybe more like  18 months??). I knew to be weary of them, and boy was I right on that. (It goes in the other way, too…. thus some of my best friends I have right now–that instant click.)

I’ve picked up on stuff from dates, from people at work, from friends of friends. Good and bad. I can’t always pin-point it, but it’s there. That “I need to be careful around you” or the “you and I are going to be BFFs.” I have yet to be wrong on either of those things. It’s like I can tell that something is just … off.

Sometimes I pick up on something and it’s not until later that I put it together. Like the guy I went on three dates with, who never tried to even touch me. On date # 3, he asked if it was okay for him to see me and another woman (Um, no?). Oh, duh … that’s why you were so spacey.

And sometimes signals are there, staring me in the face, shouting to be seen. Either I don’t see them or I ignore them.

And I end up wondering why I didn’t hear them sooner.

Four Agreements

1. Be impeccable with your word.

Say what you need to say. No more, no less. Don’t intentionally hurt people. Don’t lead them on. Don’t say un-truths. When it’s time to say it, say it. Don’t say more than you need to. I have to tell you this right now.

2. Always do your best.

Today, your best may be here. Tomorrow it may be some place else. At this time, on this day, do your best. Do the best you can do, in all that you do. Today you can do the splits, tomorrow you may not be able to. Just do the best you can for the current situation, current activity, current “thing.”

3. Don’t take anything personally.

The things people say to you have nothing to do with you. It’s where he or she is coming from. Good or bad, don’t take it personally. It’s true when they say, “It’s not you, it’s me.” It has something to do with them, not you. When someone says something mean or hurtful to you, it has to do with what’s going on behind them. It truly is what’s going on with me. I’ve got my own shit to work out. Really and truly.

4. Don’t make assumptions.

Can’t assume something. Can’t assume you know until they tell you. Can’t assume they know what you mean. Can’t assume to understand. This is not about you.

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I’m working on it.

wound

Kinda wound up. Pretty sleepy, but not really tired at all. Kinda tired, but not really sleepy at all.

Perusing old emails that made me think of how things used to be. Remember journal entries that remind me of more recent past.

Flipping between several tabs, all the same websites I visit all the time.

Full from delicious appetizers, happy from several glasses of wine, satisfied from s’mores.

Should I get up and work out? Should I sleep in? Should I get up without an alarm and plan a work out if I get up in enough time? Have go to “in” tomorrow from 1:30 or so until 5:30 or so (“Annie, Annie, are you okay?!”)

Yawning.

Should drink more water. How do I count the points for tonight? Do I sorta count them, as I sometimes do? No idea how much I ate tonight. Not TONS, but not all WW-friendly. Whatever. So worth it. So much fun.

Don’t have a current book that I want to read. Should have one soon at the library. Have one on my bedside table. Want something new. Could go read.

Have a knitting project I’m working on. Have others I could work on (say, before July 22nd??).  Could clean. Could sit here and write random blogs about nothing.

Told someone today that my blog was just my own personal brain dump. Once I got it out here, it was done. … And the real serious stuff I write in my journal. Only I see that. That’s the deep, deep stuff.

I’m sure if I went and brushed and washed, I’d feel better would feel closer to bedtime.

Hard not to remember the good. Hard to forget the not so good.

Where’s the balance? How is it supposed to be?