The Dream Police

They live inside in my head ~ Cheap Trick

A few weeks ago a fellow blogger asked his readership 

Do you remember your dreams?

I wish I could remember who he was in order to pingback and credit but I only commented instead of Like so I cannot find his original post.  If he happens to see this then shout out as I would love to recognize you.  

My answer was “Ever since I started airing my subconscious through blogging, I quit dreaming.  If I do dream, I don’t remember”

Then yesterday Lulu got the all clear.  Her doctor said she’d see her in a year for routine annual checkup.  Of course if something feels off she shouldn’t wait and should to go back right away.  But basically she’s ok to proceed with life as she knew it. 

I remember life as she knew it.  I don’t want to go back there.  I want her to move forward.  All of a sudden I’m panicking.  She’ll be leaving us again. 

I really had no idea how much I was repressing my worry.  Sure, I let a few things slip out.  Don’t laugh.   Ok laugh.  I let everything hang out.  This is me cycling:

Blab, blab, blab – feel better!

Rinse and repeat ūüė≥

And the undercurrent of worry was always there.   After her appointment I felt sweet relief.  I also could not come up with a coherent thought to blog our good news. 

Last night, I put all my devices away. 

I even took my glasses off so I could not see to read.  

I was forced to just sit in my feelings until I went to bed. 

Billy Bob’s alarm goes off at 5 AM each workday and my alarm does not go off until 6.  Alarm is on my side of the bed.  Uh duh! I control time and space ūüöÄ.  ūüėā

This morning when I turned off the 5 AM alarm, I fell back into a very deep sleep and I had a dream.  A weird dream.  

Red altar server robes and coffins.  A woman refusing to participate saying incense and holy water were sacrilege.  Telling me I’m going to hell.  I’ve served Mass for a few funerals in my day and incense and holy water are part of the service. 

In the dream, I’m trying to explain the ritual when the sprinkling of holy water becomes a deluge.  Water is rushing and we’re being soaked as the priest now throws water on us.  I feel like I’m drowning. 

Then I hear an escalating beep! beep! beep!

My alarm blasts! As I come to, my pillow is wet!   … from my own drooling.  I haven’t slept that good since before we had kids. 

I’m hoping to rinse and repeat.  I want to sleep like that every night for the rest of my life.  Sans any weird dreams.  

As always more to come. 


Bookmarks and Fairy Tales

I continue reading The Bright Hour and I’m still enraptured. ¬† This book, reminds me of another book: ¬†The Woman at the Washington Zoo by Marjorie Williams. Both books were written by mothers who passed away from cancer before their time. ¬†Both leave behind young children. ¬†That’s where the similarities end. ¬†One is about living with terminal illness; the other is about being a female Washington Insider in a man’s world.

The only reason this post is tagged book club is because book titles are included.  This is not a book review.  Instead this post is therapy.  Writing to relieve my anxiety.

Yesterday as Lulu and I were out and about, we stopped at Barnes and Nobles. ¬†She was picking up Grimm’s Complete Fairy Tales.


We also added on two bookmarks. ¬†Hers was serious We are Stardust Meant to Shine. ¬†Mine was cheeky – Never Judge a Book by it’s Movie. ¬†I mentioned to her that I wished I could find the bookmark she made for me. ¬†A mother’s day gift one school year … either kindergarten or first grade. ¬†I asked her if she remembered giving me that and of course she did. ¬†I used that bookmark exclusively until it went missing sometime around 2005. ¬†The unfortunate event of 2006 really shook up the place. ¬†There are still items which are missing.

Lost. Forever. Some. Irreplaceble.

Timing is everything y’all. ¬†Fast forward to today. ¬†I am all by my lonesome (correction was by my lonesome … they are home again). ¬†Lulu and Billy Bob took in a movie without me. ¬†They needed space from me as I have not been very good company of late. ¬†As much as I think I hide my emotions, I don’t. ¬†I have always worn and will always wear my heart on my sleeve.

I am sipping my coffee, lounging and reading The Bright Hour which I only got yesterday after waiting patiently for a copy to become available from holds.  Serenedity that the book became available when it did.

Quite honestly though I am sad.  The topic is sad.  Yet bittersweet because death is written about as living.  LIVING with a terminal illness.

That bittersweetness set in motion the my memory of The Woman at the Washington Zoo.

My thought bubble: I know I have that book somewhere.  But where?  I will probably re-read it after finishing up The Bright Hour.

Me walking around the house … checking. ¬†Me going into Pony’s old room … now our office. ¬†Me missing the good old days … wishing for another chance.

Ah ha!

I spy with my little eye.  Grabbing the book off the top shelf. Eureka!


As I open the book, this falls out …

The hole punch used to have a yarn tail in it. ¬†The paper strip is covering Lulu’s name … ¬†written is a childish scrawl. ¬†Same as when I see my mom’s writing, tears spring to my eyes.

This is the lucky cat which she is still very fond of even to this day. ¬† I acknowledge we’ve been to hell and back … the surgery sure but even before that. ¬†Stories that I dance around as they are not mine to tell. ¬†Times when the weight of those thoughts are too hard to bear, I write my feelings without specifics. ¬†Hinting and hoping maybe someone will guess. ¬†Until then luck or faith, perhaps both sees us through.

As always, more to come.


This has to stop

I picked up two new books.  One is a jaunty spoof on Hollywood and tabloid reporting.  The other a true story on death and dying.  I start reading the jaunty spoof first because after Luckiest Girl Alive, I needed something more uplifting.

Well, … I cannot get interested in the spoof. ¬†Reads farcical (if that’s even a word???). ¬†I have already jumped to the ending and read that … a bad habit that I quit doing years ago … skipping to end and reading the final paragraphs first … anyone else do that?

Anyway just blah ūüė¶

So I start on the true story.  I am hooked.  Emotionally connected.  Crying like a baby.  So much so I had to take a break and purge these feelings.  Because all the while, things are a train wreck around here.

We tried to have a good day. ¬†Really we did. ¬†The three amigos – Billy, Lulu and I ate breakfast then headed to Home Depot (there’s a boat load of home maintenance going on around here). ¬†Shower leaking with first attempt at DIY by da man, two new ceiling fans for den, moving one of the old fans into our room, new kitchen sink!

So we would not be in his way, Lulu and I dropped Big B off at home with the goods, then headed back out for pedis.  Milk and honey with 30 minute massages.  Heavenly!!

Followed by return to Bed, Bath and Beyond since Amazon had better deal on my coffee mug tree. Then over to Barnes and Nobles to use our coupons for bookmarks and fairy tales.

We had lunch at the Cheesecake Factory and even used valet parking. Tre chic.  I was content and grateful.  Blessed to be able to do this when so many go without.  Some days I have to pinch myself.

Next stops Sherman Williams (final three gallons of paint so B can finally finish up the exterior as if all the interior work is not enough for one day), CVS (for RX because we are a Big pharma’s dream. ¬†Sidebar, that topic could become a rant onto its’ own and maybe it will one day) and library to get the death and dying book which had been on hold.

All the while there is an undercurrent of doom and gloom. ¬†Almost time to make the dorm payment but wondering do we hold off in case she can’t go back? ¬†She does not have the all clear and might be easy to say “it’s nothing until it’s something”¬†but truth is we do not know.

All this waiting sucks. ¬†There is a¬†cloud of doubt weighing heavy on our minds. Well, my mind anyway. ¬†I carry the weight alone. ¬†I am fine most of the time but in quiet moments, fear makes an attack. ¬†But I keep my big mouth shut. ¬†Well, except for when I don’t … which is far too often … and except for here, of course.

What’s the worst that could happen? ¬†The tests reveal the need for another surgery (I stop short of thinking it’s cancer. ¬†That was ruled out!!!!). ¬†She has endured far worse things. ¬†I have to remember she is strong.

What’s the worst that could happen? ¬†The surgery causes her to drop out or maybe just delay her education. ¬†She has endured far worse things. ¬†I have to remember she is strong.

What’s the worst that could happen?¬†This has to stop! ¬†

I am making stuff up. ¬†Going through all my worst case scenarios. ¬†Maybe ALL of this is a blessing in disguise. ¬†This! whatever this? turns out to be. ¬†I am going to quit now while we’re ahead.

As always, more to come.

Pre-Protest Prepping

I am pre-protest prepping as they say.  Or I am P cubed.  And no I will not go down the nasty path again.  Been there and done that earlier today.  Had fun doing so.  Hehe.

Who are “they” you ask?  Well “they” are the people who say things.  You know them.  They are the authority on stuff. And I have come to the recent conclusion that “THEY” think I will go down in flames on Thursday July 6, 2017 … in the year of our lord … at 10 AM CST … to be specific … because … I am not a lawyer … I just play one on TV.  Seriously, don’t count me out folks, I will go down swinging.

I am woman hear me roar,  all Helen Reddy-esque.    That’s a link to the worst song ever.  One of worst anyway.  Do NOT go back and listen.  LOL ūüôā Said song is almost as bad as Muskrat Love which is a song not to be out done by Delta Freaking Dawn.  LOL :).  I tagged this music to my ears but … NOT!

YES I am laughing my ass off and YES I am easily amused and YES I am HAPPY!  For the first time in quite a while actually.  I have un-stuffed my stuff and that feels wonderful. I left today’s therapy session with three workbooks to work and six prescriptions.  The RX was free of charge (well of course because they are fake) AND I didn’t have to go to CVS to claim them (well of course because they are fake).  Yes my record skipped.

So anyhoo, are you ready for life altering news?!?!?  The cures to all that ails me in no particular order are water, food, sleep, exercise, sunshine and FUN!

Yep, FUN.  The next best F word.  Second only to Fudgesicle.  Somebody stop me!

Don’t you just love my featured image?  That’s ME channeling my inner Jim Carrey.  Or I should say that will be ME after I WIN my protest come this Thursday.

As always, more to come.

On this day one year ago

The following came up in my memories dated exactly one year ago.   Lulu and I were in CC at her orientation.  On the surface all was shiny but underneath there was an undercurrent of turmoil.  

The more things change, the more they stay the same.  I was attempting poetry.  Pre-therapy ordered though. My own coping mechanism brought forward from my youth.  

Sometimes I wonder why we do this to ourselves

The pressure for perfection is intense yet there is no such thing

 Just beyond our grasps forever eluding our capture

 I want all this but at what cost? 

 Is it worth it? 

 Doesn’t peace of mind mean anything? 

I want to tell her the truth

I wish she’d Fail! Quit! Surrender!

That way she can believe there is light and life even after

As always more to come

A Club You Never Want To Join 

More practice for therapeutic reasons.  Poetry in motion. Trying to purge these painful feelings.  Remembering Jimbo Pete and others who suffered or are suffering personally or peripherally from the grip of addiction.  

He commented on the postcard 

“My screensaver”

Memories of a better time

I thought 

This is what it’s like to meet a movie star

Or someone famous

Notorious really

But in a good way

The BEST way

In a beautifully sad way

The lines on his face 

The tired bloodshot eyes

The simple gold band

A survivor of loss 

Whose pain was displayed

For the greater good

But for the Grace of God there go I

Lame Attempt At Poetry

I feel guilty.  I want to save (control) the situation.  Need to work on not being a martyr.  Writing out the feelings.  Let’s see if this helps?!?

There is the pit

In my stomach

Tingling and nervous energy

That I would not wish on my own worst enemy

Thoughts racing like a fire that burns

Sitting placidly while the insides turn

This anxious seed grows

From a place that seeks to control

And seeks to make her whole

While trying to save my soul

As always more to come. 

Don’t Do That¬†

I make myself sick with worry by reading “stuff”.  By stuff I mean an eclectic variety of crap.  From medical journals to “real” life current events.  

Not sure why I put “real” in quotation marks except to distinguish “real” life from fake life. ūüėā

Anyway I digress.  

In therapy, I occasionally quote from various pieces of work that I’ve read. A few sessions ago, I got the best advice ever… simple really… and achievable … Don’t do that!

If reading WebMD makes me worry then don’t read it.  Ah ha!   And it’s not denial.  Especially because as I read, I try to draw conclusions aka J-Dub is just making sH!t up! Don’t do that! Avoiding sources of distress is helpful. Actually avoiding sources of distress is common sense!  

I’m also going to quit watching Snapped, Snapped Killer Couples, Dateline, and the like…  I mean really?!?  What purpose does that serve except to help me see more evil in the world.  Instead I need sunshine and rainbows.  We all do!

As always more to come. 

Perceived Weakness 

I’ve been thinking a lot about this issue as I do the work toward self improvement. All my failings and perceived weaknesses are really displays of strength and fortitude.  

I double dog dare you to live my life. The incessant thoughts lying to me.  Trying to tear me down yet I’m still here.  One day at a time has never been more apropos.  

Anyway not quite the big breakthrough I was hoping for; instead quiet permission to be ok.  Ok is good enough.  I got this.  At least in this second.  No guarantees of sustainment which is more proof of resilience. I know I will fall. What’s new for me is that now is I know I will get up again.  

As always more to come. 


I see her text in all CAPS.  I can’t make out what it says but it’s clear all CAPS means anger.  

Today is pathology day. 

We’re early of course.  That’s my curse.  I’m a horrible judge of time.  If I think about all the time I’ve wasted waiting, I’m disgusted.  

Disgusted might not be the most accurate word. But really?  What a waste!!

Oh well hell. 

Name called; look given; then she growls “I’m going back by myself.”  

I guess I should be grateful she is independent but still stings.  

I want to disappear.  To go away to a place where I can soothe my worried mind.  Hopefully soon … very soon. 

As always more to come