- still water in my dreams. Always the ocean. Or rain. Floods. Overflowing rivers. Mud pulling at my shoes. It’s not longer something I fear or dread, I’m so used to it. Like the sudden feeling of falling that wakes you, legs kicking. It’s just a normal part of sleep for me. Less normal? The onset of adult sleep-walking. A joke was once made that I was so unhappy, I was literally trying to run away from things. But it’s becoming more frequent. I don’t feel so much unhappy, as maybe less settled. A lot less secure. Lonely. Maybe I’m not running away, but toward something.
- Davy Jones…genuinely bummed. I watched their show on reruns as a kid. And while I was never attracted to the shine of it, they were funny and the set was brightly colored and more than anything, watching it made my mom smile. My mom never looked for common ground between us, but this? This was oddly our thing. I didn’t get what was funny, I didn’t get the references, and I didn’t at all get how these foppy men could possibly be good looking, but she lit up, so I lit up and laughed along for her. (A total aside, was a girlfriend of mine winning a date with Davy Jones in jr. high. This story fascinated me, because I couldn’t imagine WANTING to win a date w/Davy Jones in jr. high. Or really? How in the early 90’s someone roped him into going on a date with two 14 year old girls. Because in hindsight, the results were pretty much what you’d expect: he showed up in a limo drunk, unfriendly and everyone involved couldn’t wait for it to end. I guess thankfully, I don’t have a Jones for Jones, so this was mostly funny to me, no bubbles burst. But I never told my mom.)
- the best part of this day so far was waking early to cuddle with my 11 year old. Time it is fleeting, and I hold onto tiny moments like that the best I can. Even if he is totally oblivious to the preciousness of it…I’m not.
Bill Murray & Hunter S. Thompson.
Therapy today. And I realize she may be one of the few people I haven’t scared away. With each new person you let in, you think, maybe this will be the one that stays? So I let out a little more, just enough. There’s not much you can fit into an hour anyway, but its enough to test the waters and make sure that next week, and the next and the next I will be safe to share a little more.
Today I said something in therapy out loud that startled even me. There is not one person in my entire life that knows me all the way, all of my sides. That know my good angles enough to make the bad ones bearable. It’s like I’ve compartmentalized everyone so they only get one page. That way, if they don’t like me, if they want to leave, it’s a tiny burn. I can throw my hands in the air and say, “they never really knew me at all.” Feel free to throw away that
one-dimensional view you had of me, that can’t possibly hurt. Except… I want to let at least one person inside, all of the way. To feel that level of trust and being a part of something. I’m always outside this window looking in.
Progress. And now I fully appreciate the line “one foot in front of the other,” because reality is, that’s how every day is going to feel. Some days, I will just barely make it through…but if I make it? There’s that.