1:57 AM GET OUT OF MY DREAMS. She was there again, torturing me, taunting me with her cruel words. Smashing glass on our bed. Claiming she\u2019s moving away. Refusing to be close. Tormenting me by bringing that person in our home and letting him fall in love, so that she had a \u201csure thing,\u201d like she once told me once about him. It\u2019s cruel. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
6:17 AM I fell back asleep and I know I continued to dream, but I don\u2019t think it was this same dream. That particular dream was especially chilling because we were having a conversation. I remember talking to her and hearing her voice talk back to me. That\u2019s unusual for my dreams, they\u2019re usually like silent films. But her voice is so vivid, it\u2019s still fresh in my mind and it\u2019s almost like she was taunting me. Everyone keeps saying, \u201cIt will get better\u201d, but my question is, WHEN. We haven\u2019t spoken since February, not even a text. She sent one email when I checked in here that was positive and then another a month later telling me she was coming to take my cat. Beyond that, she texted my mother a few times, who she hates, to be a go between. My point being, it\u2019s not like I\u2019m holding onto something that\u2019s already dead. I have accepted that she\u2019s never coming back and that she\u2019ll never look at me again with kind eyes. Radical acceptance, right? I\u2019ve accepted that the kind and caring person who accepted and loved all people never really existed. She\u2019s really just a bigoted redneck with fancy grammar and a Karen haircut. She\u2019s not special, she\u2019s a narcissist. She never loved me, she abused me and used me to get things she wanted. It wasn\u2019t support that she was providing to help our family flourish, but rather it was an opportunity to elevate herself in the eyes of her family and friends, all of whom are successful and wealthy. She wanted that life, but she wasn\u2019t willing or isn\u2019t smart enough to do the work to get there. I think it\u2019s more of a lack of will. She\u2019s not dumb.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
So why won\u2019t she stop hounding me in my dreams? We always believed we were connected in some sort of spiritual or metaphysical way. I could sense her even from 2000 miles away. And I know that it sounds crazy, but I still believe it\u2019s true. Getting a divorce doesn\u2019t make that connection go away. And if that\u2019s the case, I fear I\u2019ll never be free of the thoughts, the dreams and the hope that one day, things will become normal. Normal. What does that even mean? I don\u2019t know anymore, because I can hardly remember what a normal night was. Before the kid, before the drugs, and before all the rules changed. Before she painted me as a villain and herself as a victim. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
At least the busyness of the morning is enough to help push some of those thoughts aside. Thank god dreams dissipate as rapidly as they crawl through your brain. I\u2019m not a morning person, per se, but I do like the busyness of the morning. So many things to accomplish and usually such a limited amount of time to do it. It works well with my ADHD. I work much better under pressure, with a deadline or a goal of some sort or another. I always did well on papers in school and I rarely started them sooner than a couple days before they were due. And I almost never wrote a second draft, I just tried to make each sentence count. So even if that meant spending 18 straight hours writing and rewriting the same paragraph until I got it perfect. I suck at editing, my eyes just scan over the text and small errors, like a missed comma, just glide right by eyes. Since I was never much for rules, I almost always relied on the way a word, sentence or paragraph sounded as a whole. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
But morning is the time when all of the most important things happen. There\u2019s the waking up process, which usually starts with one eye open and a silent, \u201cgoddamnit,\u201d followed by a yawn and stretch, which is my own personal way of acknowledging that my brain has switched from recharge to function mode. Then there\u2019s the denial stage where I know I\u2019m awake, but I pretend that rolling over and closing my eyes is actually going to make some sort of difference, but rarely, if ever does. Following the denial, there\u2019s a flip of the blankets with my legs and exposing my body, which is rarely covered with more than a small piece of thin cloth. Here is the exception, I wear pajamas. At home, not so much. Here it\u2019s such a blitz. Lying in bed, mostly awake, from about 4:30 until 6am. Then all the fun happens at once\u2026 get out of bed, make bed, pick an outfit, layout outfit, get in line for Splataaah and doing all bathroom stuff (weight, pee in a cup, shower, hair, makeup, brush teeth), get in line for meds, journal and have breakfast. Today went well overall. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
The vibe is slightly lower than yesterday, but still overall positive. I need to make sure that I\u2019m engaging my friends that are struggling today. That includes Betty, Audra, Priscilla and Raine. I\u2019m using distress tolerance, labeling emotions and opposite action today. I\u2019m also going to try and urge surf my body checking. I haven\u2019t been that focused on fighting those urges while being here. I just feel like I\u2019ve been so focused on the food aspect of treatment and trying to meet goals or milestones that working on actual urges has taken more of a backseat. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Chris is once again our MC today, which means options for groups, which makes me so anxious. But that\u2019s what distress tolerance is for, right? I do find that not picking the group topics keeps my brain more calm and steady. I\u2019m also going to use headphones to drown out the sound of the discussion. I\u2019m happy to let others pick, my goal is just showing up. All the choices seem pretty good anyways.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I feel distracted today for some reason. Like my brain just isn\u2019t working at full speed, almost like a brain fog that\u2019s distorting my focus. I wonder if it\u2019s my newest medication, Buspar. From my Dr. Googling I learned that Buspar works by regulating the balance between dopamine and serotonin. But since I have multiple medications working on those same neurotransmitters, I wonder if it will make the Vyvanse less effective. Ugh. Where is my focus? The conversations around me are loud and my own thoughts are quieter. Maybe that\u2019s the point though, right? Slow my brain down just enough that I\u2019m not rapidly overthinking every single thought I have. I don\u2019t want to get up and leave the room. I want to sit still and feel the discomfort. Let it flow through me and then hope that it disperses after some time. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
My main intention from this last week was to stay present and try not to let negative thoughts control my actions. I\u2019ve been semi-successful. On some days I\u2019ve done much better than others. But it\u2019s the loud Danielle days that really send me for a loop (so trite, sorry). Like the dream or just the wishful thinking and it seems like during the inbetweens is when it is the loudest. Sometimes music helps, but not always. Also I know there\u2019s going to be downtime in a few minutes, because I need to charge my laptop. That\u2019s my least favorite. Because I have no outlet. Well, I do have my journal and I\u2019ve found I like doodling in there as much as I enjoy writing. I should have used my time here at Willow to get good at sketches again. I used to be much better. But also, my art brain has been hard to access recently. It just feels like all my energy is going elsewhere and I can\u2019t find focus in any one art project long enough to complete it. I don\u2019t know why writing is so much easier than painting, sketching or even music. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
This dream I had was so real and vivid, but what made it different from most of my dreams was the conversation we were having (more like an argument). The thing that stands out the most was Danielle smashing glass on our bed and her choice in a replacement for me. Someone ultra masculine, but not intelligent. Also, very much not the person she actually chose over me. It was weird. And her voice, it was so loud and vivid and sounded just like her. And my tears felt so real as she yelled at me and told me she was never coming back. The bed is particularly significant because she made such a big deal out of no longer sharing a bed with me. That was one of the most hurtful things that happened during the breakup. I felt so empty and cold at night without her for months. Maybe that\u2019s another reason for not wanting to go home.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I want a new bed frame, new box spring and mattress. Something that feels like mine, not ours. Something that doesn\u2019t hold her ghost. And there needs to be a new arrangement of some sort. Something opposite of how it is now. I\u2019d almost choose another room to live in, but I don\u2019t want to move back to the party bedroom, that would just be too much. I don\u2019t want to paint the room again, but I need to redecorate. Pull the fake plants down from the ceiling and the projector screen (it needs to be further away anyways. And the closet, I\u2019m going to fill it with my clothes and clean out any remnants of her stuff. The two or three things she left for whatever reason. God, that bag that she loved so much and just left behind. Even before we were cut off, she was trying to erase me. I feel that even now and I think that\u2019s what the dream was about, our struggle, the push-pull ebb and flow of our battles. The trauma bond that kept me begging her to come back and stay. It\u2019s the same bond that makes me want to pick up the phone everyday and send her a message or call. I don\u2019t even know if she has that number anymore. I won\u2019t actually do it, that would be the wrong decision for so many reasons. The primary one being that anything I do or say, she\u2019s going to use against me. She\u2019s no longer a friend, ally or companion. I hate saying or writing those words. Radically accepting the finality of it all. Closing a chapter before I feel like it came to a conclusion. Just an abrupt end, like the Sopranos finally. Scene and\u2026 darkness. A living death of my favorite and closest friend. Oh, it\u2019s so much to process. So much to think about. I\u2019m 3\/10 on processing big emotions today. I don\u2019t feel like I\u2019m ready or that I ever will be. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Maybe Jude and I should sell the house and buy another one. I doubt we\u2019d find one as big, but do we even need that much space. It\u2019s just space to fill with things we don\u2019t really need, right? George Carlin said we buy a small space to fill with things until we need a bigger space to fill with more things, until we need a bigger space to fill with things and the cycle continues. What is all that space for anyways, it\u2019s just me and Jude. I don\u2019t think that\u2019s going to change any time soon. The downside is Jude\u2019s perfect garden in the front, we\u2019re unlikely to have anything like that where we move and she\u2019s so proud of it. But it also feels so much like Danielle. Those pieces of her keep my heart spinning in neverending circles. But unlike her, I\u2019m not trying to erase all memories, only the bad ones. I don\u2019t want us to never have existed, I just want the fights, the berating, the yelling, the hitting\u2026 I want all the good and none of the bad. It\u2019s vicious, this thought loop. It hurts from my toes all the way to my eyes. I feel the tension. Today, it\u2019s this that is driving my anxiety. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
I talked briefly with Priscilla about this and she said, \u201cdreams aren\u2019t real,\u201d which is true. But the feelings and emotions that result from a dream, even if it’s just my brain trying to protect me in some way or\u2026??? The feelings are real. I used to get so mad at Danielle when she\u2019d have a bad dream about me and wake up angry. I thought it was dumb, but it makes much more sense now. These vivid dreams provoke real emotions and I think I have to process them just the same way I process any emotions. Sit with the pain, feel the feeling, let it dissipate, right? But what of the parts that sit in my subconscious? The parts I don\u2019t distinctly remember, but are nonetheless there. They trigger these feelings, too, and it\u2019s almost like the invisible bully that you can\u2019t confront or fight back against. Are those the ones perpetuating my anxiety? Feeding my ED? Are they the reason I can\u2019t just close the chapter and start a new one?<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I wish that I wasn\u2019t weird sometimes. People find happiness or at least contentment in bracelet making or building a Lego project and I\u2019m glad for them. But tuning out my thoughts enough to work on something like that feels impossible. Meditating is impossible. The only exception is music and usually complicated music. Not the songs I play, but the songs I wish I could create. I\u2019m my own worst critic, I\u2019m sure, but I also lack the technical knowledge and skill to create songs like that, I guess. Maybe not. We can control our thoughts, therefore we can be whatever we choose to be. It\u2019s a matter of focus and knowing exactly what you want those thoughts to be. I think that\u2019s where most people get hung up. You can be rich, you can be a good Mom, you can be a great artist, you can solve world hunger, but it takes laser targeted focus, down the micrometer or smaller. The power of thought is so underrated. Just because Oprah isn\u2019t talking about it anymore doesn\u2019t mean it\u2019s stopped working. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
What about the power in just letting your thoughts land where they may and accepting the things that they produce on their own? What if I don\u2019t want to control my thoughts, I want them to fly freely from my brain to my fingertips, my tongue or through my legs to my feet and toes. I want them to be positive though. Is that the same as trying to control them? Is positive thinking just muscle memory like so many other skills we hone and develop? Music is muscle memory. It\u2019s about hearing the scale in your head and allowing your finger tips or lips and tongue to project the right pitch and tone. You practice the skill of building those memories and they become automatic. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
I\u2019d like to make this a turning point in the journal. A moment of clarity that leads to automatic positive thinking. A moment where I decide for myself to choose this whole recovery thing. I\u2019d like for the sun to shine on me and it starts to align in my favor. Maybe Mercury could do something special with Mars or the stars could swirl and dance in my song. And let my song be that moment. I\u2019d like for that to happen and truthfully, I feel really good today. I have a level of community and friendship that is in the making that is really special. I love when two people find each other fascinating and are stimulated by the other’s thinking, even if it\u2019s radically different. I love feeling like someone takes my words for what they are, even if they are the wrong word. And I really love being challenged in thought when the thoughts that challenge mine create a more cohesive vein of logic. Those are the days I feel connected. Those are the days that my eccentricity or weirdness or whatever you choose to call it makes me feel special, loved and appreciated. I love that even though I\u2019m older than some, people can still feel my youth. That\u2019s how I\u2019m feeling today, and it\u2019s nice. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
I think it\u2019s fair and accurate to say that the thing most missing from my life has been human connection and bonding. Since the transition, I\u2019ve cut off the friends that wouldn\u2019t support me which left me with a huge gap in human connection. And it\u2019s not like I\u2019m missing those friends anyways, they were toxic and as Josie said, \u201cWhy keep people around in your life that don\u2019t accept you as you are?\u201d She was so right. Leaving my last job was the best decision I\u2019ve made in the last year. I deserve friends that not only respect me for who I am, but appreciate me, love me, cherish me. I am not broken. There is nothing wrong with me being who I am and expressing myself as such. It doesn\u2019t make me weird, it makes me authentic and authentic people are the stars that shine the brightest. I\u2019ve always had a flair and glow, I just took off the mask and I\u2019m letting it show. And I do feel good about myself. I don\u2019t have to feel shame or embarrassment. The world is changing and people that fall outside of the norms are becoming normal and revered. There is of course resistance to this change, just like all social revolutions. But, despite what the news says, despite the despicable politicians, podcasters, youtubers and bloggers that fear what they don\u2019t understand, the world is becoming a more accepting and loving place. The hatred of old religion is dying a slow, but noticeable death and that\u2019s why the loud and vocal minority of people who would have me thrown in an asylum, silenced or shamed are waving their arms, flailing their bodies and stomping their feet. They<\/p>\n\n\n\n
My thoughts are slower today and I\u2019m not sure how I feel about that. I did end up taking clonazepam after snack, because the anxiety would have kept me from participating in group, which was actually really fun. We played mafia.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
My computer died and I thought it died the final death. But it was just the battery. Anyways, that\u2019s why this ended so abruptly.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
1:57 AM GET OUT OF MY DREAMS. She was there again, torturing me, taunting me with her cruel words. Smashing glass on our bed. Claiming she\u2019s moving away. Refusing to be close. Tormenting me by bringing that person in our home and letting him fall in love, so that she had a \u201csure thing,\u201d like […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[3],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-40","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-journal-entry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/okclara.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/40","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/okclara.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/okclara.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/okclara.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/okclara.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=40"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/okclara.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/40\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":41,"href":"https:\/\/okclara.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/40\/revisions\/41"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/okclara.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=40"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/okclara.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=40"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/okclara.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=40"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}