Skip to main content

Barely Breathing


 

Today I am thankful for self-care

and not so thankful for bad self-hypnosis. 


I had a nightmare about four nights ago in which I stumbled across a dead body of someone who died in a fire. 

It was someone I care deeply about. 

My family of origin was full of fire-fighters.  Don't ask me how I know what a body of a burn victim looks like. 

I just know. 

I also know how it smells. 

((( sigh))) 

That topped off nightmares I had for over two months.  This one was so bad that I couldn't eat or drink.  I stepped on the scale and found that I lost five pounds in four days. 

Typically, I'd love that.  If I could do that five times over, I'd buy a bikini. 

That image is disturbing me. 

Once I hypnotized myself never to see this face in my dreams - but I see everything else and hear the voice, so I knew who it is. 

This time, I thought it would be cool to associate his dream presence with a smell - cinnamon.  I don't want to see him at all.  

I wasn't quite awake when I did this.  It was at 5:30 in the morning after four and a half hours of tossing, turning and fear of falling asleep. 

I chose cinnamon because it was something I could smell from something baked earlier. 

I just went with it. 

It was nice.  I had dreams.  I cannot recall who exactly was in it. 

It's been beautiful. 

It was stupid. 

*****

I had to bargain with my sixteen year old daughter to get her to buy a coat.  I only had one girl, the rest of the kids I've raised were lumberjacks. 

I'm not joking.  With the exception of my eldest daughter, all the other girls dress from the men's department  I will say that this is also true of the adolescents I've brought to live here after their parents kicked them out of the house for their sexual orientation. 

They hate shopping.  

I even gave them their own credit card in the hopes they'd buy themselves their own flannel. 

No go - 

It's starting to get cold.  The youngest is growing out of her coat.  

She refuses to shop either in person or via the web. 

My go to is bribery. 

I can't bribe her with money.  

I can't bribe her with food.  She cooks better than I. 

I can't bribe her with a car as she fears driving. 

The only thing I can bribe her with is 

fancy soap. 

When she was a toddler, we made soap together.  I stopped doing that when George Bush Jr. made it hard to get lye. 

Promises were made. 

She picked out a coat and boots. 

In turn, we went to a local soap shop. 

They had a special. 

Eight bars of fancy soap for $40. 

So....we got eight bars. 

Here's the problem......

Most of them smell like cinnamon. 

My house smells like cinnamon. 

It didn't even dawn on me until I tried to fall asleep just now. 

I think one of the girls baked apple cinnamon muffins - ugh! 

Stupid is as stupid does. 

I wonder if they make nose plugs? 

*****

My phone goes unanswered. 

I'm exhausted. 

My friends are worried about me. 

I have a guitar player buddy who is going to call me after my ultrasound tomorrow to make sure I actually unpacked my new bass and tuned it. 

Something is wrong with Siegfred if she has a brand new bass guitar in her bedroom that is still in its original box.

If it were a Peavey or a Steinberger, it would be tuned. 

It's a cheap Squire that I bought to mess around with and take to the rehab center. 

People know something is wrong. 

Tomorrow morning they will see if my tumor is growing. 

We'll see. 

Why am I broken now? 

I've lived with nightmares of this person for over thirty-three years. 

I've never dreamt of him dead 

- in a full body cast....yes.....

amputated limbs.....yes.....

talking to me about his problems.....yes....

in 2004, I had a dream I met him at a street fair and I wanted to introduce him to my husband....who was nowhere to be found....

I've dreamt some strange stuff.....but he's never been dead.  

It didn't work out.  It feels creepy to dream of someone you used to know very well. 

What would happen if I thought of the wrong kinds of things if I ran into this man and his spouse? 

That's mean. 

 I can't be like that. 

I don't want to have inappropriate energy around him should he be put back on my path. 

This has to stop. 


*****

If this person is dead to me, why not just give me dreams of 

I don't know.....

What are bad dreams? 

Clowns?  

To be quite blunt, with my red hair and ultra white skin, I kinda look like a clown. 

That's scary in my waking life. 

What else is scary? 

Going to work without a top on? 

Giving a conservative speech in an auditorium full of liberals out for blood within hours of Trump winning re-election? 

Being the only asexual person at an orgy? 

I've actually had that dream.  It was an orgy of political activists who were screwing each other and everyone else. 

Worse, I couldn't find the door. 

That dream was just as disturbing as it sounds. 

*****

There has to be a trigger. 

While I was shopping, I had a thought. 

There is literally a designer that has the exact same name as the pet name I gave him. 

Maybe I need to throw out half of my wardrobe? 

It's hard to go that far. 

The trigger could be death itself. 

People keep dying in my world.  I've lost two more former patients to overdoses.  I also lost my favorite boss last week. He was the one that pointed out that the stalking destroyed my self-confidence. 

Maybe it is the consistency of wearing black for the funerals that reminds me of all the death and destruction in my world back when we were together. 

What in the world is my problem? 

At least I hope it is only my problem. 

I pray I'm the only one of the two of us who gives the other any thought.  

I find it too painful to sleep and I wouldn't wish this on any body else. 

Maybe I'm saying the wrong prayer?  

It might be helpful to ask my higher power to explain the dreams to me.  

Love ya, 

S. 

Next morning edit: 

So....

as far as I can remember, the dreams didn't smell like cinnamon. 

The person is still in my dreams - but- he now looks like a tall blob of flesh topped with golden brown (he looks like what he looks like when my contacts get stuck in the corner of my eyes during our visits together). 

Just know - there are worse dreams to have of an ex than death. 

I'm off to bathe in a bunch of salt water. 

Every time this happens, 

my sister-aunt (the aunt who is just a few years older than I) 

will buy me the same book on Soul Contracts. 

I must have four or five copies by now. 

My daughter suggested that I read it. 

Maybe this harkens back to the promise I made years ago to always love him and be a friend to him? 

I never thought it would lead to trouble sleeping....

Love, 

S. 


 









Popular posts from this blog

Stalker Proxy Phone Calls

What kind of songs do narcissistic stalkers sing?  I imagine they sing songs like this.   I am grateful now that I understand why the stalker has people call  but   wish they'd listen when I ask them not to call again.  I probably should document this somewhere.  My ex was talking to an old friend of mine from high school on a daily basis.  She is his cousin.   I had to quit talking to her when she'd ask me to plan parties and then refuse to give me the guest list saying that the attendees would only be me, her, my stalker Shannon, and my NPD mother-in-law.   She wanted me to plan interventions.   This happened with a baby shower.  It also happened with a wedding.  The in-laws put together a fake wedding trying to host an intervention to shame me and my ex into doing things for them (like quit school and give them my car).   I had to cut this so-called friend off over that in 2004.  We ran into her at a Wal-mart in 2005 and my keys went mi

The Love Gods Have a Sense of Humor

Today I am thankful about the ever-changeable, ever-humorous universe.   It is said that 'in life, the only constant is change.' Ah, this is a true tidbit, isn't it? I recently vowed NOT to date until Michael officially moves out of the house.  I also vowed NOT to be close to him unless he signs up for FOO (Family of Origin) and Relationship counseling.  I've been with the man nearly a quarter of a century, he's not going to go to therapy to have a relationship with me. He plays games with money, divorce agreements, custody arrangements, transportation, and all sorts of things to keep me stuck here.  It's nothing money and a lawyer can't solve.  ***** They say that dysfunctional people have three weapons that they use to keep people under their thumb.  The acronym is FOG. Yes, they are FOG machines. What does FOG stand for? F ear O bligation -and- G uilt Yes, there is fear.  Fear that he won't honor his financial

Personality Theory

Today I am thankful for personality theory. I can't say that I buy into it very much.  People change over the course of their lives.  Healthy people grow.  Unhealthy people either stay static or regress.  So what one tests today may change tomorrow. I do believe that personality theories (even ancient ones like astrology) create self-fulfilling prophecies.  If people buy into it, it gives a lot of insight into their characters, needs, and behaviors.   I've spent most of my adult life studying personality theories.  From Eric Fromm's theory's about authoritian -vs- mature personalities and how authoritians fear power while mature people revel in it to Jung's introvert -vs- extrovert theory.  A major one of interest to me is an offshoot of Jung, it is the MBTI type inventory.  When I'm happy, I'm a textbook INFJ. When I'm pissed off and wanting to strangle my ex, I act like a ESTP.  My ex is a ESTP and when he is stressed out