I do wish it would bet easier to go to church. I don't want to go. I have a terrible time getting myself to go. Today, I thought it would be a bit better. I could not get Mike up to go with me and it is a bit better if I don't go along. Although he won't sit with me. He sits in the back. But Becca called and asked if she and Sarah could go with me as David had some kind of stomach upset and couldn't go.
Once there, it was just terrible. I can't think why I thought it would be easier today with someone there. I managed to worship a bit but I can't handle the intensity of the emotions because I feel as if I shall explode in a million pieces. I can't let myself feel or I will end up being carried out.
We were a bit late getting there and so no one spoke to us and as soon as the preaching was over we left. I just didn't want, at that point, to have to say "I'm fine. I'm fine. I'm fine."
How am I? I'm a mess. What do you think! That is what I want to say but people mean well. You can't insult people if they bother to ask about you. I've found that most people don't like widows. I know they don't because no one will talk to you. They avoid you like the plague in case you start sobbing insanely or fall into a faint. Some people used to come over and shake my hand and say hello. Now, nada for the most part. They don't know what to say so they say nothing and they look the other way. Someone ask me if anyone calls me. I told them no, just my family. They didn't understand that. People are just so stupid. Present company excepted. Did I ever tell you I have no tolerance for stupid?
I manage to cope at work because I'm so busy I don't really have time to think and if I do, I find a way to stop it. But I still have to come home to this empty house. Where I have to find ways to not think.
And the tiredness is another thing. I can't do anything. I'm just plain tired. Exhausted really. I need to do a lot of things around the house but I just find that I have no energy to even move from my chair. I get spurts of energy that allow me to wash dishes or put away a few clothes but it is not unusual to see a week of clean laundry sitting in the basket. I did put it away yesterday, by the way.
Now, I' going to shower. I need to just lie down I think. Maybe I'll go to sleep. I'm missed Jerry all weekend long and I'm really just worn out.
Sunday, June 7, 2009
To Sleep, Perchance to Dream
I had a few comments on my last post about dreaming. Some have generated thoughts that I wanted to mention. Whatever your belief is, and I don't disrespect them at all, there is strong evidence among those who have dreams that they can be prophetic. Stories go back beyond modern times. I am a believer by default. I've had dreams and they happened. You don't have to believe me. I didn't ask for them and wouldn't wish them on my worst enemy. But whatever else I know, I know that dreams, sometimes, are predictive or prophetic.
I also know that equally, some dreams are nothing but our over exerted minds. At other times, they are our brains way of working out problems. Ever hear the expression, "I'll sleep on it"? That did not come about by accident and it is a very old expression. The mind never sleeps. It is constantly working to make sense of all the information it has been bombarded with all day.
I used to sew everything my family wore. There were many times when I had a troublesome item that needed a special solution. If I couldn't figure it out, I'd put it aside. When I went to bed that night, I would do a little trick. I'd tell myself that I was going to dream of the solution. It never failed. I learned that trick over time and I used it to very good effect in college. Always before a test, after I had studied and when I went to be at night, I would repeat that I knew the material, I would remember it the moment they gave me the test. I've taught others to use this technique and it does work. Your mind is powerful and I suspect the unconscious mind is more powerful than the conscious mind, with all its barriers and inhibitions.
May father told me once that he could control his dreams. I questioned him on this. He told me that he loved skydiving and hated falling dreams. If he had a dream of falling he had taught himself to change the dream and instead of falling, he was flying. I too hate falling dreams and so after he told me that, the next time I had a falling dream, I tried it. And it worked. That is called lucid dreaming and there have been studies to show that we can manipulate some of our dreams. After all, it is our mind.
As for predictive dreams, there are many people, thousands or more, who will tell you they have dreamed of events prior to their happening. We aren't psychics. We are generally average people. I do not understand what purpose it serves because usually people don't believe you anyway. Would anyone of you have believed me if I had told you that I dreamed of my grandmother dying that it was going to happen? No. You would have laughed or reassured me. But it did happen. Two weeks after the dream.
I dreamed what my oldest son looked like before he was born. I didn't even know he was a boy. Coincidence? Maybe. How can I tell? I have a lot of dreams that happen.
My grandmother had premonitions and dreams that happened. She just never talked about it. People think you are crazy, back then, even more so. She never told me about them but I knew she had them. She would say things were going to happen and when asked how she knew, she just looked away and said, "I just know." And they did. Then, we would ask how she knew and she wouldn't tell you. Well, I don't have her fear of being thought crazy. But I have kept this to myself for decades. No one in my family knew this about me until recently, when I told it after Jerry died. My aunt said, "Mama could do that." Mama even knew about her own death. And so did I. I didn't believe either one of us until after the fact.
Do you know how frightening that is? I've had death dreams three times. They all involved family members. I only acted on one of them. That person did not die. I acted because the nature of the dream was unusually and profound and frightened me so much that I acted immediately on waking. The other I missed - one because it was the first one and the other because I simply wasn't expecting it.
To sum up my point here I want to refer you all to the last paragraph in the January 12th post. Gloom, Doom and a Working Day
I also know that equally, some dreams are nothing but our over exerted minds. At other times, they are our brains way of working out problems. Ever hear the expression, "I'll sleep on it"? That did not come about by accident and it is a very old expression. The mind never sleeps. It is constantly working to make sense of all the information it has been bombarded with all day.
I used to sew everything my family wore. There were many times when I had a troublesome item that needed a special solution. If I couldn't figure it out, I'd put it aside. When I went to bed that night, I would do a little trick. I'd tell myself that I was going to dream of the solution. It never failed. I learned that trick over time and I used it to very good effect in college. Always before a test, after I had studied and when I went to be at night, I would repeat that I knew the material, I would remember it the moment they gave me the test. I've taught others to use this technique and it does work. Your mind is powerful and I suspect the unconscious mind is more powerful than the conscious mind, with all its barriers and inhibitions.
May father told me once that he could control his dreams. I questioned him on this. He told me that he loved skydiving and hated falling dreams. If he had a dream of falling he had taught himself to change the dream and instead of falling, he was flying. I too hate falling dreams and so after he told me that, the next time I had a falling dream, I tried it. And it worked. That is called lucid dreaming and there have been studies to show that we can manipulate some of our dreams. After all, it is our mind.
As for predictive dreams, there are many people, thousands or more, who will tell you they have dreamed of events prior to their happening. We aren't psychics. We are generally average people. I do not understand what purpose it serves because usually people don't believe you anyway. Would anyone of you have believed me if I had told you that I dreamed of my grandmother dying that it was going to happen? No. You would have laughed or reassured me. But it did happen. Two weeks after the dream.
I dreamed what my oldest son looked like before he was born. I didn't even know he was a boy. Coincidence? Maybe. How can I tell? I have a lot of dreams that happen.
My grandmother had premonitions and dreams that happened. She just never talked about it. People think you are crazy, back then, even more so. She never told me about them but I knew she had them. She would say things were going to happen and when asked how she knew, she just looked away and said, "I just know." And they did. Then, we would ask how she knew and she wouldn't tell you. Well, I don't have her fear of being thought crazy. But I have kept this to myself for decades. No one in my family knew this about me until recently, when I told it after Jerry died. My aunt said, "Mama could do that." Mama even knew about her own death. And so did I. I didn't believe either one of us until after the fact.
Do you know how frightening that is? I've had death dreams three times. They all involved family members. I only acted on one of them. That person did not die. I acted because the nature of the dream was unusually and profound and frightened me so much that I acted immediately on waking. The other I missed - one because it was the first one and the other because I simply wasn't expecting it.
To sum up my point here I want to refer you all to the last paragraph in the January 12th post. Gloom, Doom and a Working Day
Saturday, June 6, 2009
Saturday Mid-Morning
I got a good night's sleep, thank God. I always do feel better when I get up when I wake up instead of begin dragged out of my bed by a crowing rooster. That is the sound my alarm makes. I don't care how often you hear it, you never get used to it and it never fails to wake you. I actually beat him this morning and have already had my hazelnut coffee. I just went and turned off the alarm.
I was wakened by a strange dream and I don't usually remember them. I used to, long ago, remember my dreams and write them down. I stopped dreaming years ago when I started having pain problems. I've always believed that was a sign I wasn't getting enough REM sleep. If you don't know about REM sleep you can look it up but basically, lack of REM can make you sick and you can actually die from a lack of it. I suspect it is the culprit in much of my problems.
Anyway, over the last 10 years or so, I only had dreams once in awhile and could rarely remember them. After that cervical block in October I began to dream, crazy dreams. I promptly forgot most of them when I got up. This morning, I woke from a crazy dream and I am writing it down here. Why? Because I am afraid not to.
Last year, when I began to dream a bit more I had a dream about Jerry. I dreamed we were working in our yard and the ground where he stood began to swirl, like a whirlpool. I could see the grass begin to spiral around his feet and the ground appeared to be sinking where he stood. He looked me and but I don't think he asked me to help him. I can't remember that. I believe I tried to get him to come away but the ground had opened and was beginning to draw him down into it, the spiral grew outward until I was forced to back up or be sucked down with him. I frantically looked around for something to help him but couldn't find anything but the water hose. I remember the frustration and fear as I watched as he began to sink. Finally, when only his hands and arms to his elbow were visible I grabbed the water hose and threw it to him. But he couldn't grasp it and the spiraling whirlpool grew and I couldn't go near enough to reach him. I woke up just seeing his hands.
I remember thinking what a crazy dream. I don't know if I told him about it. But I did tell him I was having these crazy dreams since I had the cervical block. Suddenly, I was actually sleeping again and dreaming. It had been so long since I had real dreams that I had lost sight of what my dreams often were in the past. I take it the majority of you can see this dream for what it was. I did not at that time. Only after the Lord reminded me of it weeks ago did I grasp the full impact of it.
This morning I woke from another weird dream. So, I will write it down as best as I can now remember it. Because I don't know if it means something or if it is beans.
I was in a place where a man was brought in on a gurney. He was a big man, not fat as I recall, just big. He had white blond hair and he had been injured in some kind of accident but was alive. I wasn't sure he was at first but I gradually got the impression he was alive. There was a woman nearby but I can't see her face I just know she is distraught. I do not think she is me but who knows. Anyway, they tell her the man's lower face is destroyed and I"m confused because I feel like these are mortuary people and they are going to bury him.
He is covered up but I know he isn't dead. I'm not afraid, by the way, just watching. I don't sense any emotion, just a mild concern for the woman. They wheel him away and I have a sense of time passing.
They bring him back and he is lying slightly on his left side away from the woman. I am standing at the foot of this gurney and I can't see anything but his the side or his face from his eye to his forehead. He has been crying. For some reason he is half uncovered. I can see his slightly bent right leg and arm.
They tell her they have to remove part of his face. Again, I don't feel anything in this dream but a sense of concern for the woman and sadness for this man. At first, I think they will wheel him away again but then, I watch as they take surgical scissors and began to cut the skin away from his face. He begins to cry this terrible cry and his eyes are looking at me. I never really see his lower face at all, only his terribly sad and frightened eyes. I had a sense of something destroyed beyond repair. I woke up.
I put this out there so, oh, I don't know. I didn't write down my dream about Jerry as I should have. Maybe I would have seen something. I didn't see it for what it was because of my own condition. I'll never know the truth.
Now, for those unfamiliar such things, you must realize not all dreamer dreams mean something. For me, some dreams actually happen and they are not usually good things. I'm some sort of special dreamer. But I haven't had dreams like that in many years. I've prayed repeatedly NOT to have them. I got sick with this pain issue and stopped sleeping well and my dreams were impacted. I didn't dream at all that I could remember. {sigh} I know, my prayers were answered. I just realized that writing the preceding statement.
Anyway, you don't want to have dreams where you are told people are going to die or or injured, or about their personal problems. Particularly when you can't tell the difference. I don't know the difference in a dream like that and indigestion dreams. I don't know when a premonition is imagination or warning. It is why I kept asking not to dream those kinds of dreams. If I can't recognize it and I can't change it or fix it, then is serves no purpose and is useless to me and anyone else involved. I've done this as long as I can remember. At least since I was 17.
So, there. Now you know just how strange things are for me. I feel like I should just stop running and let it overtake me. I do not know what I am supposed to do with such things if I can't tell what is real and what is imaginary.
I stopped to take a call from my aunt for a while and finally got of the phone so I could finish this. I'm going now and get dressed and get busy. I have things I must do.
I was wakened by a strange dream and I don't usually remember them. I used to, long ago, remember my dreams and write them down. I stopped dreaming years ago when I started having pain problems. I've always believed that was a sign I wasn't getting enough REM sleep. If you don't know about REM sleep you can look it up but basically, lack of REM can make you sick and you can actually die from a lack of it. I suspect it is the culprit in much of my problems.
Anyway, over the last 10 years or so, I only had dreams once in awhile and could rarely remember them. After that cervical block in October I began to dream, crazy dreams. I promptly forgot most of them when I got up. This morning, I woke from a crazy dream and I am writing it down here. Why? Because I am afraid not to.
Last year, when I began to dream a bit more I had a dream about Jerry. I dreamed we were working in our yard and the ground where he stood began to swirl, like a whirlpool. I could see the grass begin to spiral around his feet and the ground appeared to be sinking where he stood. He looked me and but I don't think he asked me to help him. I can't remember that. I believe I tried to get him to come away but the ground had opened and was beginning to draw him down into it, the spiral grew outward until I was forced to back up or be sucked down with him. I frantically looked around for something to help him but couldn't find anything but the water hose. I remember the frustration and fear as I watched as he began to sink. Finally, when only his hands and arms to his elbow were visible I grabbed the water hose and threw it to him. But he couldn't grasp it and the spiraling whirlpool grew and I couldn't go near enough to reach him. I woke up just seeing his hands.
I remember thinking what a crazy dream. I don't know if I told him about it. But I did tell him I was having these crazy dreams since I had the cervical block. Suddenly, I was actually sleeping again and dreaming. It had been so long since I had real dreams that I had lost sight of what my dreams often were in the past. I take it the majority of you can see this dream for what it was. I did not at that time. Only after the Lord reminded me of it weeks ago did I grasp the full impact of it.
This morning I woke from another weird dream. So, I will write it down as best as I can now remember it. Because I don't know if it means something or if it is beans.
I was in a place where a man was brought in on a gurney. He was a big man, not fat as I recall, just big. He had white blond hair and he had been injured in some kind of accident but was alive. I wasn't sure he was at first but I gradually got the impression he was alive. There was a woman nearby but I can't see her face I just know she is distraught. I do not think she is me but who knows. Anyway, they tell her the man's lower face is destroyed and I"m confused because I feel like these are mortuary people and they are going to bury him.
He is covered up but I know he isn't dead. I'm not afraid, by the way, just watching. I don't sense any emotion, just a mild concern for the woman. They wheel him away and I have a sense of time passing.
They bring him back and he is lying slightly on his left side away from the woman. I am standing at the foot of this gurney and I can't see anything but his the side or his face from his eye to his forehead. He has been crying. For some reason he is half uncovered. I can see his slightly bent right leg and arm.
They tell her they have to remove part of his face. Again, I don't feel anything in this dream but a sense of concern for the woman and sadness for this man. At first, I think they will wheel him away again but then, I watch as they take surgical scissors and began to cut the skin away from his face. He begins to cry this terrible cry and his eyes are looking at me. I never really see his lower face at all, only his terribly sad and frightened eyes. I had a sense of something destroyed beyond repair. I woke up.
I put this out there so, oh, I don't know. I didn't write down my dream about Jerry as I should have. Maybe I would have seen something. I didn't see it for what it was because of my own condition. I'll never know the truth.
Now, for those unfamiliar such things, you must realize not all dreamer dreams mean something. For me, some dreams actually happen and they are not usually good things. I'm some sort of special dreamer. But I haven't had dreams like that in many years. I've prayed repeatedly NOT to have them. I got sick with this pain issue and stopped sleeping well and my dreams were impacted. I didn't dream at all that I could remember. {sigh} I know, my prayers were answered. I just realized that writing the preceding statement.
Anyway, you don't want to have dreams where you are told people are going to die or or injured, or about their personal problems. Particularly when you can't tell the difference. I don't know the difference in a dream like that and indigestion dreams. I don't know when a premonition is imagination or warning. It is why I kept asking not to dream those kinds of dreams. If I can't recognize it and I can't change it or fix it, then is serves no purpose and is useless to me and anyone else involved. I've done this as long as I can remember. At least since I was 17.
So, there. Now you know just how strange things are for me. I feel like I should just stop running and let it overtake me. I do not know what I am supposed to do with such things if I can't tell what is real and what is imaginary.
I stopped to take a call from my aunt for a while and finally got of the phone so I could finish this. I'm going now and get dressed and get busy. I have things I must do.
Friday, June 5, 2009
Long Week Ends
A very long, depressing and stressful week has ended and not a moment too soon for me. I am no into Saturday morning and about to go to bed. I've struggled with depression and despair all week while trying to catch up at work from a week off. I'm tired but now don't know if I can sleep. I hate going to bed until I am exhausted.
But I am going. I wanted t tell you all I am trying to get around to everyone's blogs but it isn't always easy. I have to keep my mind occupied with really stupidly trivial things. Games and puzzles, chats with online friends, anything distracting. I just can't concentrate on anything deep or heavy.
Today I plan on just doing whatever I want with no pressure. No running all over the world either.
So, good night all.
But I am going. I wanted t tell you all I am trying to get around to everyone's blogs but it isn't always easy. I have to keep my mind occupied with really stupidly trivial things. Games and puzzles, chats with online friends, anything distracting. I just can't concentrate on anything deep or heavy.
Today I plan on just doing whatever I want with no pressure. No running all over the world either.
So, good night all.
Thursday, June 4, 2009
Gloom, Despair, and Darkness
It is a cloudy day. I think it rained during the night. It was very cold last night for this time of year. A cold front blew in and I imagine that is where the rain came in. Today the sky is overcast and dreary and it is very cool.
I really am in trouble I think. I can't get a handle on this encrouching darkness. Don't say pray about it. I can't pray. When I try I simply fall apart and manage to say "Please help me, God" over and over but that's about all I can manage. I'm taking the St. John's Wort. That will take time to get in my system, as any other medicine. But I am not coping with it at all. I don't really know how. I don't know what to do or where to go or who to talk to or what to say.
I told my aunt that I understood what Hell is. She said, "Well, I know I don't want to go there." I told her I was living there already. Imagine every thing you ever did wrong, every mistake you made, every unkindness, selfishness, meaness, and negative behavior you have ever had rolled over and over in your mind, every day forever. And you can't stop it. You can't fix it. You can't undo it. You can't change it. It can't ever be made right. And you desperately want to fix it. You want to make it right. You want to undo, change, stop it. And you can't. That is Hell. And I live there.
I'm isolated for the most part. I have my children and when they are around, I'm better. But they have to go home. And sometimes I need them to go. I have to have quiet at times, too. My family out of town calls whenever they can. I come to work but the stresses of work are not helping. They are increasing the stress level. I can't take off. I'm already behind from my trip home and that in itself is a stressor.
I realized last night that I have no friends at all here. Not really. My co-workers are all very kind. My boss has really been very. . . well, he's been so good to me about my work and my time.
I haven't been to church in three weeks, I think. It is very hard to go and see the place where I expect to see my husband standing every service and know he is not coming back. My pastor has called each week after I missed on Sunday. He is a very kind. I'm sure my loss reminds him very much of his own.
If it were not for the people on my Multiply contact list, I don't know who I would have any contact with outside of work and my family. Some of you have gone out of your way to try and support me with your notes and email. Some of you chat with me whenever possible. I've found myself online more because of that. Any port in a storm, as they say. I don't want to appear needy but if some of you had not been there things would really be unbearable at home.
Someone sent books on grief that, after reading the first one, I think are very good. They are very short books and don't require a lot of time to read. My friend Reite has received them and she has a write up on her blog from yesterday about the first one. Her mother died just after Jerry did. I started the second one last night but it was very late and I was so depressed I couldn't handle it. Thank you, my sweet friend. I think I know who you are but will respect your desire for anonimity. They're very good books, really. If I can come to grips with things, they probably will be the reason.
I do not think I will go back to church. I've been contemplating that for a couple of days. There are other churches I know nearby and I may visit a few others. I don't know. I do pray about these things and do not make hasty decisions about such things.
I don't know that any of this matters really. At least, I wrote it down instead of bottling it up. I can't very well fall apart at work. I see the counselor tomorrow but I don't really want to see him anymore. It doesn't change anything. It doesn't help. And I just don't care.
The whole idea behind journaling is to say what is in your mind and heart. As I understand it, in the grief process, this is beneficial. I haven't found it terribly so but it does make you feel the way you feel after you've thrown up. Since that's totally gross I'll leave it at that.
I really am in trouble I think. I can't get a handle on this encrouching darkness. Don't say pray about it. I can't pray. When I try I simply fall apart and manage to say "Please help me, God" over and over but that's about all I can manage. I'm taking the St. John's Wort. That will take time to get in my system, as any other medicine. But I am not coping with it at all. I don't really know how. I don't know what to do or where to go or who to talk to or what to say.
I told my aunt that I understood what Hell is. She said, "Well, I know I don't want to go there." I told her I was living there already. Imagine every thing you ever did wrong, every mistake you made, every unkindness, selfishness, meaness, and negative behavior you have ever had rolled over and over in your mind, every day forever. And you can't stop it. You can't fix it. You can't undo it. You can't change it. It can't ever be made right. And you desperately want to fix it. You want to make it right. You want to undo, change, stop it. And you can't. That is Hell. And I live there.
I'm isolated for the most part. I have my children and when they are around, I'm better. But they have to go home. And sometimes I need them to go. I have to have quiet at times, too. My family out of town calls whenever they can. I come to work but the stresses of work are not helping. They are increasing the stress level. I can't take off. I'm already behind from my trip home and that in itself is a stressor.
I realized last night that I have no friends at all here. Not really. My co-workers are all very kind. My boss has really been very. . . well, he's been so good to me about my work and my time.
I haven't been to church in three weeks, I think. It is very hard to go and see the place where I expect to see my husband standing every service and know he is not coming back. My pastor has called each week after I missed on Sunday. He is a very kind. I'm sure my loss reminds him very much of his own.
If it were not for the people on my Multiply contact list, I don't know who I would have any contact with outside of work and my family. Some of you have gone out of your way to try and support me with your notes and email. Some of you chat with me whenever possible. I've found myself online more because of that. Any port in a storm, as they say. I don't want to appear needy but if some of you had not been there things would really be unbearable at home.
Someone sent books on grief that, after reading the first one, I think are very good. They are very short books and don't require a lot of time to read. My friend Reite has received them and she has a write up on her blog from yesterday about the first one. Her mother died just after Jerry did. I started the second one last night but it was very late and I was so depressed I couldn't handle it. Thank you, my sweet friend. I think I know who you are but will respect your desire for anonimity. They're very good books, really. If I can come to grips with things, they probably will be the reason.
I do not think I will go back to church. I've been contemplating that for a couple of days. There are other churches I know nearby and I may visit a few others. I don't know. I do pray about these things and do not make hasty decisions about such things.
I don't know that any of this matters really. At least, I wrote it down instead of bottling it up. I can't very well fall apart at work. I see the counselor tomorrow but I don't really want to see him anymore. It doesn't change anything. It doesn't help. And I just don't care.
The whole idea behind journaling is to say what is in your mind and heart. As I understand it, in the grief process, this is beneficial. I haven't found it terribly so but it does make you feel the way you feel after you've thrown up. Since that's totally gross I'll leave it at that.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)