Well, as you all are well aware by now, the holiday season is the worst for depression. Now, don’t worry about me. Of course I will have some sadness, coming from where I have been. I have a different reason for writing today. I have a little story to tell, but I have to get through to you, the overwhelming FEAR I woke up to. In a panic, at 3am, I tried to go back to sleep, but couldn’t do it.

I’m struggling with how to get this out. I want to word it correctly, but I am afraid it will come out a jumbled mess and I will sound like a babbling fool.

I have dreams that come true, a lot more than the average person. They aren’t like spot on, exact dreams of what is to come, but I had MANY dreams that Mitch died. Well, it was the same dream over and over, and I haven’t had it since he passed.

In the dream where Mitch died, we were driving down a stretch of empty, country highway (2 lanes, one each direction), the weather was nice, in the mid 70s. He was driving. Clouds developed, and black funnel dropped from the sky, and he made my mom, Meg and myself lay in a ditch, so he could pull the car over us, as a sort of “protection” from the elements. Then he ran off. We saw him get taken by the tornado. He died, in my dream, saving us. Now, this dream would waver a bit. Sometimes my mom was there, others she wasn’t. Before I got pregnant, there was a child sometimes, and others there was not. But, the outcome of the dream was always the same. I lost him.

I’ve had other, less serious dreams that predicted things, if you looked into it enough. I asked a coworker what she was naming her baby, if it were a boy, or a girl. She told me the names, and I said, “Well, it’s going to be a boy, because I had a dream about Owen Wilson last night.” The name she had picked, if it were a boy, was Owen. She had a boy.

But, anyway. When I have such powerful dreams, that wake me up crying, in a panic, excited, or completely overwhelmed, I act on it. Like, when I went to get my raise at my previous place of employment, I had that dream of Mitch dying again, and freaked out, because on the income I was making alone, I wouldn’t have been able to afford anything. I was in a panicked state, about how bad my credit had been, before Mitch passed. I kept dreaming that he left me, and I couldn’t get my own place, because I had such horrible credit. a MONTH after we discussed starting my repayment to my student loans, he passed. My student loans were what made my credit dip so bad. I deferred and deferred and then they wouldn’t let me defer anymore. I went a year, unable to make the outrageous payments, and my credit dipped so low, it was scary. Low 400s. (another system set up for failure, btw…) One year dropped me to low 400s from the 700s, and 4 years of on time payments, low credit usage to available credit…. you know what? That’s a topic for another discussion. I’m rambling, like I worried I would.

Back to last night’s dream. I don’t know. I don’t recall it at all. I just woke up worried about a friend. Insanely worried, actually. And maybe I assume it’s one friend over another, but idk. I hope it’s just my anxiety messing with me.

Another thing I want to stress, this holiday season. If you need a friend, I’m here. I am always happy to be there for people. Need a hug? I’m your gal. Need a couch to sleep on, so you don’t feel alone? Come over, I have animals. You’ll never be alone. They will even watch you go to the bathroom, if you leave the door cracked. HA!

All jokes aside, I’m always a text away, email, messenger, phone, etc. Don’t ever hesitate to ask me for help. I’m not financially rich, but I am a listener, and have an excellent shoulder. And I ALWAYS have coffee. 😉

I can’t shut my brain off, so I am just going to keep typing.

I went out with coworkers/friends this last weekend. I was having so much fun the whole time. We went to a speak-easy type bar, followed by a brewery, then went to a bar down the street that was doing karaoke. I was already tipsy, so, I bought the old guy who’s table we decided to share (with very little asking him if it was okay), a drink. We watched karaoke, we SANG, and were having a good time. All of a sudden, I heard the intro to “I Cross My Heart”. I got excited. Then, I felt my heart shatter, all over again. That pain. Jesus Christ. That pain came straight out of my eyes. I ruined my makeup, and I didn’t care who saw. As I type this, tears are streaming again, as I think about the funny story of how I came to know this song. I won’t retell it, because I have told it so many times, but I’ll say this. I was such a SUCKER! haha! I’m glad I was though, because it made the song that much more special.

As much as I love music, I am a lyrics gal. For me, the beauty is in the words, and the message the writer is trying to get across. Of course, maybe that’s because I am not musically inclined. I am a writer, rather. I’ve never REALLY tried to write music, either. something with the rhyming, and I would make terrible songs, I am sure. I write abnormal poetry, erotica, and feelings. Sometimes I can be comical, but most of the times, I am an emotional writer.

SQUIRREL!

Speaking of writing! I’ve started reading again. making it a point to read every day. Not facebook, or instagram, but an actual book. Someone recommended it, and around page 70, I had wanted to text about things that had been going on, and decided I would start writing in the book, instead of sending a bajillion texts about the rollercoaster of thoughts and emotions I have gotten from this book. So. Many. Emotions!

Well, My morning alarm just went off, so I guess I should publish this and start getting ready for work.

One thought on “T’is The Fucking Season…

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s