Dream #3764 & Happy New Year

I am in labor again. It feels the same, but I am more self assured. The midwife silently attends me, the hubs waits patiently beside me; they both know that I know what I'm doing. The baby comes and I pull it into my lap and onto my chest, the midwife murmuring compliments as she inspects the wrinkled newborn and listens for the first cry. The cry is loud and startling, so much different than Baby Bananaface's had been

The placenta comes. I am cleaned up by the midwife and then I hand the baby to my husband and don a sleeveless sleep shirt with tiny buttons down the front. I head outside. I have no underwear or pad on and can feel the blood oozing from my gaping cervix, it would surely course down my leg in a few seconds time, but I walk on into the blazing sunshine.

I am in some arid place. The ground is dusty and the horizon orange canyons and shimmering cars driving a long haul to some place more welcoming. I walk toward a large bridge extended over a canyon. It is sun bleached blue with thousands of large bolts. A trickle of water is far below at the bottom of the canyon calling itself a river on some maps.

Just before the bridge leaves solid ground there is a parking lot with a viewpoint and various placards with local history for tourists. I come to a small railing dividing the parking lot from the main road and sit down, letting my legs hang down the short cinder block wall, leaning forward onto the lowest rung of the metal railing.

I am looking for my mother but cannot recognize her in the crowd of tourists. My gaze falls to the ankles of the throng of people and I see a blurry tattoo half covered by ankle socks and well worn slip on sneakers. She turns and comes to me with her arms crossed, her face blank.

"It's a girl." I say, my own face veiled, my eyes watching and waiting.

She turns away, back to the lookout and I sigh.

The midwife and my husband are walking out to me with the baby. They are chatting and smiling, joyful and proud.

I sit at the railing and feel the blood pooling within me. I want to weep but I sit and let the sun beat down on my back and arms, willing it to evaporate my tears from within.

---


That was my dream. I needed to type it out... get it out.

In other news, the hub's turns 30 at 12:01 AM and we ring in the New Year. Not sure if I'll be awake but he usually insists on some fanfare so I shall try :)

Wishing everyone a Happy New Year, a better year than last, health, joy, and friendship. Let's hope for a good one :)

Off to a Better Start

So far today is going better. Having the hubster home from work really helps!

Also had a crazy dream... First I was like a female "Wedding Ringer" (it's goofy but a fun funny movie) and I was running around in platform heels and a fabulous dress chasing down an alternative bride since some guy got dumped at the altar. 

When I found and brought her back to the stage (it was some big ass hotel wedding) I had the groom come up and did a sort of dramatic speech/presentation thing and told him to look at me, don't look over his shoulder at who I'd brought back for him to marry, but to tell me who it was.

He said the wrong name! Not just that, he said, "Wrong Name, because of that pony sex."

WHAT THE HELL DOES THAT MEAN!? The only thing I could think of was that song "ride the pony, ride the pony," that I like up until that chorus. Hate that.

Anyways. I ran off to get hand sanitizer and then met up with the "Wedding Ringer" guy in the hotel kitchen while I scavenged wedding cake and espresso for myself. We went to the wedding he was running and had a blast.

That was the first dream. Second dream was a bit crazier but in different ways...

I was part of some sort of school field trip and we were abroad. I'm not sure where but after some sort of drama infused sleepover we ended up on an Asian airline, like we snuck on and stole it, and one of the gals was piloting. We took off on a highway and went under various bridges and power lines before rearing up at a steep angle and barely making it past some hydro lines. 

I was aware of some sort of "bad guys" on the ground trying to prevent us from escaping but what we were escaping remains unknown. All I know is that is was super dramatic and weird to have a bunch of people on a plane, only our group, and a student piloting a big jumbo jet. It was like a weird spy/field trip vibe and I think my sister was part of the group for whatever reason.

So, we'll see how this afternoon/evening goes but so far I'm doing a lot better. Got to sleep in (and have some weird dreams) and I feel like Baby and I have regained connection, which is a relief. I'm not totally bounced back but I don't feel like I'm sliding deeper. We'll see if the upward swing continues, definitely gotta work on the self care!

Dip

Been coping with a mood dip lately and struggling to de-stress, relax, and get a grip. Not feeling so well physically doesn't help the situation!

The hubster said something helpful this morning during our walk, something about how I set the mental tone in my head. If I think something sucks, it sucks. If I think positively about it, I'll be happier. It's simple, straightforward, and true.

Too often I let myself think "down" about things. I think it comes from a family tradition of pessimism that has somehow been mutated into a "realism" that is really just self-defeating mental habits. It's not stupid to be optimistic or positive! It's life affirming and useful!

So I'm going to give positive thoughts a renewed effort for the next few days and hope to avoid falling any deeper into darkness. I'm also renewing my efforts to get active (another side effect of not feeling so hot, I end up on the couch instead of getting active) and keep up with the housework. Between the sickly feelings and the darn heat I've been a bit of a couch slug (one step up from couch potato).

In other news I've been having some crazy dreams lately. One about being mauled by a bear. Another about going hunting with my dad and dodging bullets from crazy hunters around us. Yet another about a bomb scare on a field trip and one about some horrible bleeding (menstrual) at a party-that one nearly qualified as a nightmare though nothing near as terrifying as the bear attack. All in all it's made for some intense nights!

Melatonin Dream #36

Warm sun baked the lake shore while a cool breeze ruffled skirts and teased sun hats. The crowded shore could hardly be called a beach, more clumps of thick grass than sand, but the cheery people were perfectly content with nature's creation. Tall trees shaded the mounds of grass, each lump of earth just big enough for a small group of five to seven people. They rested on picnic blankets and wandered in pairs and gaggles, chatting and laughing, some playing in the water.

The husband and I rested under a tree, smiling at each other. No words. My sundress was white with large yellow and purple flower shapes, splashes of green leaves, and slashes of black outlining the abstract floral designs. He wore khaki pants and a button up with the sleeves rolled up, as if he'd come to the beach right after work. The sun pulled freckles to the surface of our faces and arms and we relished every cool breeze's relief from the heat. Our shoes were in a heap and sand was between our toes.

Then a gloomy pressure weighed on my eyes. My eyes welled with tears and my breath came shallow and fast. Something in my chest clenched and panic rose in my throat as my mind's eye saw the sandy ground collapsing in massive sinkholes around the beach. I leaped up.

"The ground is going to collapse! It's all going to fall in! We have to move. You have to move!" I yelled at my husband. Backing away from the beach area, clenching my fists and blinking back tears. I nearly hyperventilated.

He didn't believe me. Smiling and dipping his head to one side in a pitying motion. He shook his head, still smiling, slowly rising, grabbing his shoes and following me past the crowds to a path in the trees. He extended a hand. Our shoes in one hand and each other's hand in the other we walked toward a nearby building. The entrance down a few stairs in a dim trench, wood planks layered into long slats built into the earth. Sand heaped in the creases of the stairs, heavy wood and glass doors opening into the public space of a dormitory. 

The inside of the dorm was a massive space. Three stories down into the ground and four more up, staircases and ladders stacked in a giant column through all the levels, like a giant jungle gym. Balconies lined the common space, students watching other students crawling up the wooden maze in the center of the building, following platforms from the center structure out to the balconies and down hallways to dorm rooms, kitchenettes, and bathrooms.

I released his hand and began walking fast down a hallway at the far end of the room. Crowds of people stood in the halls, like soldiers in a trench. Panic still lingered in my body. I kept my head down and charged through the crowd, my hair was short and in curls, an awkward misshapen bob. I sensed my husband behind me, not quite keeping pace but keeping me within eyesight. 

I suddenly sensed someone I knew to my right. Tall. T-shirt and gym shorts. Dark eyes and buzzed brown hair, a heavy brow and bulky torso. My ex. 

I kept my head down. He said something. I ignored it and kept walking quickly forward. I didn't get far. He followed, my steps seeming three to his one, grabbing up my arm and turning me to look at him.

"I knew it was you."

He turned down another hallway and led me to a dorm room. Bright florescent lights, shiny white walls littered with posters and sketches. A cluttered desk to the right beside the doorway, a queen-sized bed centered against the back wall with a storage headboard, the various pockets and drawers stuffed full with books, clothes, papers, paintbrushes, figurines, and trash. The bed was unmade, the closet to the left crowded with clothes and shoes, the doors left open. There was a feminine presence, despite the mess. I realized he must share the room with his girlfriend.

He shut and locked the door behind us. Pushing me to the bed as he flopped on his front down the center of the bed, he ruffled through the crowded headboard. I laid across the bed parallel to the headboard, squeezing closer to the cluttered furniture piece as he inched closer and closer to me. 

"You owe me a painting. You said you would paint this figurine and you never did." He never made eye contact but shoved a cluster of toys into my hands. 

The plastic miniature knight was smaller than a fifty cent piece. Molded to ride a horse my ex seemed to have temporarily stuck the figure to a toy horse of a different variety. What looked like some 80s girl's toy with gnarled fake hair hanging down to the horse's knees. The horse was much too big for the knight. The knight perched on its back like some sort of tumor. Also attached to the horse was a larger action figurine. A Robin Hood with screws showing at his joints. The cheap, poorly kept toys made me sad. 

"Paint it. Like you said you would." He thrust a tiny bristled brush into my hands, setting a torn piece of cardboard with paint on it on a limp pillow beside me.

I felt my breath become shallow, trying to steady my heartbeat as if I were stuck in a caged enclosure with a tiger. I avoided his eyes and kept my mouth shut, layering thin coats of metallic orange and red paint down the knight's cloak. 

Outside I hear my husband calling my name, opening and closing doors, stomping down the hall. Despite my anxiety I call out to him. My ex spins around on the bed as my husband bangs on the door with a fist. Realizing the door is locked and no one is about to open it, my husband kicks it open. He bursts in and my ex tenses for combat. The man on the bed had fifty pounds and three inches on my husband but was not himself. I knew my husband could subdue my captor but it wouldn't be pretty. I calm them.

"It's okay. I'm just painting a miniature." Locking eyes with my husband I bob my head in a small nod and motion him to a chair in front of the closet.

The men calm down, everyone settling into their posts as I return to painting. As I finish the cloak I notice the poorly painted face of the knight. Blobs of light blue cover the pupil, iris, and sclera of both eyes. One shade of bright orange smeared around the textured hair of the knight. A horrible paint job reminiscent of Chuckie. It doesn't make any sense. This man is a better painter of miniatures than I am, how could he paint this figurine so poorly?

My ex inches closer and closer to me as I paint. He lays an arm over my back, mindlessly, like setting a coffee cup down on a pile of paper to prevent them from blowing away. My husband flinches. We exchange a glance and I steady my breathing, trying not to react. We remain outwardly calm but tensed for action, unsure of the hulking man's intention. I set down my brush and try to return the figurine to him.

"No. The face. You have to pain the face. Like this." He presents a crumbled sketch, sliding it onto the bed before me. 

The sketch is familiar. A man with reddish, dirty blonde short hair just long enough to begin curling, hazel eyes, freckles and red stubble. It's my husband. I look up at the hubster and catch his eyes. He recognizes the sketch but is calm. He nods and points with is chin at the miniature. I paint the face in my husband's image.

As I'm painting someone enters the room through the ajar door. It is his girlfriend. She jumps a little at the door, keys in her hand, a messenger bag hanging from her shoulder. Taking in the scene she is alarmed for mere seconds. She drops her bad beside the desk and sits down, twisting the office chair to face the bed and watching the painting. She smiles at me. A little shake of her head and a glance at my ex. Everyone seems to know that he needs this miniature painted except me. I assumed he'd forgotten all about it.

The closer I come to completing the miniature the more oppressive my ex becomes. Edging closer and closer to me I feel his torso and legs pressing against me, his head leaning in next to mine, breath on my neck as he observes the painting.

I finish the knight's face and hand the glued clump of toes back to my ex. He brings it close to his face and inspects the painting. I slowly slide off the bed, setting the paintbrush on the crowded headboard. He remains fixated on the figurine, mumbling something about a horse.

My husband rises from his chair and slowly creeps toward the door.

"For the next part I'll need a container for water. Maybe a yogurt container? That'd be good." I edge around the bed and toward the door. Slipping into my sandals as I find them discarded near the door, my hands leveled in front of me in a calming slow motion bounce.

My ex nods to himself and his fiance nods and smiles to us as we leave. Somehow we understand that I won't be coming back. 

My husband and I shut the door as we leave the dorm. Walking briskly down the hallway we reenter the large main room and crawl up the center jungle gym to a different exit, a sunny exit above us. On the jungle gym a girls asks if I would like to play volleyball and get drunk in a hour and a half. I turn her down and mention my family's volleyball games and how they get drunk in only forty-five minutes! 

We exchange a few more words about her odd hair, dark brunette roots with the rest of her hair deep auburn to her shoulders. She claims to be a bright yellow blonde and to be concerned about her next few month's dye jobs as the factory for her dye will be closed down for a couple months. My husband chuckles and grins at me as he climbs past. I smile and shrug at the girl, climbing away on the jungle gym and realizing that everyone below me can see my underwear.

I don't particularly care. 

Nosedive & Recovery

Yesterday was messy and it was mostly because of the day before and an acute episode of baby fever.

I think it arose from the postnatal I had that day, the baby cuteness, and an amazing baby chair that blew my mind. Put me right into baby brain! Once I had the blush of baby inspiration (Ooh! I want to have a baby!) my find flew away on dreams but was quickly checked by reality and my rational brain's concerns.

When I put myself down, I put myself down hard. Things quickly escalated from "Now's not the right time" to "You're a mess. You're not good enough to have a baby. You have to change a lot before you can even consider this." The negativity kept rolling until I felt so ashamed and guilty I was compelled to scratch myself with some scissors.

There was a lot of unpleasantness but the biggest disappointment was how badly the following day went for me. I wasn't eating. I wasn't doing anything. Total zombie. As my psych prof once said, "marinating." Thankfully the hubby had it in him to right the ship when he got home. Forcing me to eat, getting me to exercise and talk helped get me out of the hole.

The doubts are still stalking my mind. I considered going back on hormonal birth control despite really not wanting to just to rein in the baby fever. It is so overwhelming. My mind basically boiled everything down to me not having my $h!t together. If I had a job, if I were a healthy weight, if my mental health were more stable (it's like a 3-legged stool, each leg is vital) then I would have the right to want a baby... or so my brain says. In my mind I don't have a right to want something. How sick is that?

I know I'm a perfectionist and the extreme standards in my mind are a recipe for self-hate and grief. The sad part is so much around me reinforces these standards and emphasizes just how lacking I am. Media, bank account, even my supportive hubby. I'm not healthy enough, I'm not productive enough, I'm not earning enough money, and because of all that I'm obviously not disciplined enough! It goes on and on....

Even though it's not enough, I feel the need to pronounce some things about me that are worth something. It's like yanking a stump out of the ground trying to figure out some positive things to say about myself, but I will try:

I don't mind looking like a fool or being childish. Making faces, funny sounds, playing with Play-Doh on the kitchen floor-I'm all over it.

I'm empathetic.

I have a good heart.

I am a decent cook.

I am a good laundress.

I love reading, aloud or otherwise, kooky voices optional.

I care.

I'm observant.

I'm a hard worker.

I've accepted that spilling, spraying, splashing, slopping, or staining on my clothes is a part of life.

Well. That's something, I suppose. And I will continue taking things day by day, hoping that someday I will believe that I am enough.

In other news, I'm making ham bone soup from Easter leftovers today (the apartment smells pretty delightful, I must say). Iroh and Fio have been wonderfully supportive co-sleepers the last few days when I've had a hard time getting out of bed. Millie has been vocal and friendly, but still a biter. Shocker. The hubbo has tomorrow off!

OH! Also had a really trippy dream last night where I was out and about with my MIL and I had a "baby." The baby was a rat the size of a newborn human! We were at a bus or railroad station and went to the bathroom where I attempted to change the "baby's" diaper. Lemme tell you, changing a cat-sized rat-baby's diaper is no easy feat...

Oh Brain, You Are So Funny!

Had a funny dream this morning after I fell back asleep after trying to wake up.

I was cleaning out my desk and while doing so I was flipping through channels on the TV (not to mention turning the desk lamp on and off and back on for some reason, yet refusing to turn on the overhead light). Anyways, I thought I was in the Netflix browser but it was static cable. I flipped through a few until I found a newsy looking broadcast with ticker news along the bottom and temperatures skimming along the top of the screen. It was a European America's Next Top Model-just kind of off.

The show was broadcast like a news show or gossip news cast and it seemed to have a boot camp vibe with fashionably dressed judges screaming in anorexic models' faces. The models were even shaved bald and at one point had on wigs and chunky knitted sweaters for their fashion show.

Eventually there was a big finale recap of a catwalk and a photo shoot. The outfits involved animal or ethnic themes and lots of fake feathers and fur. One was a huge poncho of white fur that nearly reached the floor while the model wore a headdress with golden poles sticking out from behind her bald head like a preschooler's drawing of the sun. She was kind of a suck-up, saying "It's beautiful" so dramatically you could read her lips while the newscaster's commentary droned on.

Another outfit was eagle themed and involved a painted hand and fake eagle face. That model stretched low to the ground and put her hand out like the eagle was in a dive. Very dramatic. Reminded me of some figure skating routines I've seen! The stuffy news announcer (an older male with dark hair tinged with gray) kept saying "She's out of control."

Lastly there was a male model with a white outfit resembling a suit yet more loose fitting. He was laying a treadmill like belt covered with dirt and leaves to resemble the ground and what appeared to be an albino platypus (?) was laid in front of him. The platypus began to roll around playfully and so the model copied the animal, twisting around and arching his back, then the tread began to move them until they were trundled under a stream of spraying water. Once again, the broadcaster kept saying, "He's out of control." Seemed like he couldn't think of much else to say.

Then the show cut to commercial and there was a CGI ferret walking on it's back paws and nibbling at his front paws (but it was crappy animation and the teeth didn't even touch the front paws just clacked in place) while zooming down a snowy lane. There was some touching music in the background, very Campbell's soup-esque, and the ferret whisked down the lane to some snowy abandoned church. Then there was some informational bullet points about stray animals and hazardous buildings including "abandoned churches, dumpy dumps, trashy trashes" it was ridiculous. I guess the message was keep your ferrets inside and feed them Eukanuba.

So, mind your ferrets!

"I Should Be Lobotomized"

It's a horrible, horrible thing to say. I know. But I said it. Last night was a bad night, and I didn't want to feel anymore. I didn't want to be me anymore. It was a stupid thing to say and an unrealistic thing to say which is probably why I said it. I couldn't say, "I should be back on pills," because the hubster could've taken my word for it and started that ball rolling again!

I felt horrible last night, but it makes me feel ashamed saying something like "I should be lobotomized" when such a procedure ruined the lives of many other people. Sure, I have my problems but there are a lot of people out there that have bigger problems.

Not to say any of us and our problems matter any less than someone else's, but it's important to realize that we're not alone. Sure, there are people that have it worse than me, but there are also people that have it better than me and compassion is a chain woven through us all. Compassion from others, compassion for ourselves, compassion for others.

I often neglect the first two forms of compassion. I assume people think the worst of me and don't care about me and I often don't behave kindly toward myself. After a while those negative thoughts sort of numb me out. As much as I try to care for others, I just can't. The landscape of life becomes very barren and loses meaning.

ANYWAYS.

Why was last night so horrible?

Last night started heading downhill when the hubby cued up a documentary about K2. As amazing as stories about climbing that mountain are, they mostly just depress me. I hear "K2" anything and feel my hackles rise, preparing for the inevitable downer and ensuing depressive state. Sherpas risking their lives just to support their families any way they can, adrenaline junkies putting their lives on the line and leaving their families behind, and people dropping like flies in a seemingly serene, fantastically beautiful scene all leading me to the questions, "What is life worth?!"

It's all about perspective. I can understand the sentiment that we have one life to live and you should live it to the fullest. Die climbing a massive dangerous peak, having your life snuffed out before you can exhale your last breath? Life well-lived (to some). But I find myself drawn to a more serene place, a life lived with family and children, a quiet death leaving behind recipes, stories, and memories with loved ones. Both are very different, but both have meaning.

But through the eyes of depression neither of those philosophies hold water. A dark extrapolation leads my mind to the conclusion that life has no meaning, no matter what you do throughout your life nothing really matters. I begin to feel trapped. Stuck in a living form forced to contemplate questions with no answer and wallow in the turmoil of failure for the rest of my pointless existence.

This is what happens when I am triggered. And this is why we've put "K2" on a list of "Banned Input For Hannah." Yes. I've banned an entire mountain.

Readers already know that financial matters are another trigger for me as is failure in almost any degree as my mind likens it to being unlovable and worthless. The hubster and I are also working on media input in light of recent bouts of... hmm, not quite paranoia but living dreams where my body has an anxiety reaction and I imagine acts of violence occurring in my day-to-day life. It's troublesome and disturbing, let me tell you!

A couple weeks ago I began breathing deeply while the hubby and I were driving around doing errands and when he asked what was wrong I had to explain that I had imagined snipers were on top of buildings and bullets were tearing into our car, shattering windows, and ripping us apart. I know I have a vivid imagination, but this little scene took things a step further and caused me distress, much like a nightmare instead of just a bad dream. These episodes take many shapes but generally peak with violent media input and cause me a general sense of unease, anxiety, and feeling unsafe.

So we are working on these things. Last night was bad, but today will get better and we'll keep pushing forward!

And the hubster promised me he won't go climb K2 and die.

Melatonin Hangover & Some Odd Dreams

Last night the hubby and I tucked into bed and chatted about the day before drifting off the sleep. 

Ha, right. That was the plan. 

Instead an all too familiar tension in my stomach and a wave of dark thoughts curtailed my sleep. Anxiety was settling in. Before the hours of sighing, tossing, and turning could ensue the hubby brought me some melatonin. Before I knew it I was off in dreamland, wading through intensely detailed, nonsense dreams in a heavy sleep. 

This morning was a rather slow start because of it. I was finally able to oompf myself outta bed after 9:30 am, but not without the cursory guilt trip and fear over backsliding fought to keep me in bed til noon. I can't imagine using prescription or other OTC sleep aids when melatonin can pack such a punch for me!

Anyhow, the dreams. 

I jotted down some key parts on the mirror this morning but still can't recall all the details. Here is what I can remember:

I was in a small local shop. Housed in a renovated home it seemed to be a florist with a little toy shop and Christmas decorations. Family friends were there with me and I was helping my friend's younger daughter pick out gifts for her class. There was some wibble-wobbling and consideration but we finally decided on 3-inch tall Disney figurines (similar to the Vinylmation collectables) and small notepads. We picked out almost thirty of each of the items and piled them into our arms.

Then my dream shifted. Still set in the same location but instead of helping the young girl I was sitting on an old sofa in a waiting area at the shop and chatting with family and friends. 

I can't remember the exact conversation but I remember some feelings. Whatever the topic was somehow I made some comment revealing how much I had struggled the past couple years and I remember the honesty I felt and resolve, a peacefulness tinged with a little fear of rejection. I also recall the shock and confusion of my mother and our mutual friend as they tried to reconcile the truth I told them and the person they had thought I was. 

That section of the dream was somewhat familiar. A familiar theme to my thoughts and dreams where I violate peoples' expectations and shock them with honesty. I suppose it's a fantasy of mine to be able to stand up for myself, express myself and own my identity without conforming to expectations of others. Funny how we can't know ourselves without the reflections provided by others, yet our identities often become clouded or inhibited by others projections.

Then the dream moved forward again and I was loading a used pre-lit, artificial Christmas tree into a truck along with an assortment of decorations. I drove the truck "home" which was no place I recognized and proceeded to put the tree up and decorate it, but there were some very odd decorations. 

The weirdest decoration was a slip. A large white slip that covered the entire tree. The directions implied that the slip go over the tree before adding the garlands and ornaments but I only put the slip over half the tree before realizing how stupid it was and how I couldn't see the needles. It was all very odd. 

I threw the slip aside and proceeded to cover the tree with the rest of the ornaments and garlands. White, gold, and silver. It felt bridal. I felt rebellious for disregarding the "tree slip," but satisfied with the tree decorated in my own fashion.

After that dream apparently I dreamed something about a rather large, fat guy dancing with bottles of coca-cola. Don't remember all that. But the dream after that I do remember, it took place in a band room....

It was a band class reunion and I was rather a mess not having practiced and barely able to read music. Talk about feeling in over my head! For whatever reason I was sitting next to my high school beau (if you know anything about band seating you know trumpets and bassoons are in very different sections) and I remember feeling some awkwardness. Not because we didn't want to see each other, but because something was very wrong and he was upset and I could sense it, and he knew that I knew something was wrong.

Before you know it, we were talking and crying and I had figured out that his wife was sick. Very sick. Like MS or some other horrible ravaging mysterious disease. It was awful. Yet beautiful. We still had a connection and I was able to comfort him without any weird tension. It was just a natural chemistry lending itself to a sensitive moment, nothing more. Just a moment of supreme clarity and understanding. A moment for him to cry and break down with someone he trusted and knew would understand. And that was it. We returned to our music, tears streaming down our cheeks. Playing for that moment, our past, our separate futures, and for his wife.

Those are the dreams. 

Man I wanna pull my bassoon out and see if I can still manage an F scale!

In other news, I've been managing to clean more but still feeling sluggish. The hubby and I are feeling some anxiety over me being home alone again and avoiding backsliding. We've decided that it's all right to have those feelings, be aware of the risks and situation but don't want to over analyze or worry ourselves into breakdowns. Day by day, we'll be vigilant but forgiving.

The pets are all right but still shedding flea dust so flea treatments are in our future, and lots of vacuuming. Iroh is enjoying having his fountain back (originally decorative it is now nearly entirely dedicated to his hydration and entertainment) and Millie has taken to sleeping on my side of the bed during the day. Fio has sprouted a wart or something on his nose and it otherwise his barky, scratchy self!

Recent Dreams

1) A card came into my possession. A folded card with a picture. The picture was of my ex-boyfriend and his girlfriend, their heads bowed over a tiny new baby. The month of May came to mind and somehow I was aware that another couple would have a baby that month as well. I was jealous, I was upset, I felt emotion well up in my throat and tears burn behind my eyes without falling. He never wanted children, I want children, why does he have a baby and not me? Such a childish reaction yet so overpowering. Why does everyone else seem to "oops" their way into parenthood while I patiently wait for the "right" time and try to better myself? I'm the one enforcing this higher standard and yet I resent it, I throw a tantrum and say "I want it NOW!" realizing it's up to me in the first place. Fear of failure haunts me. The long-standing belief that I'm sick, that I'm weak, that I'm incapable plagues my subconscious. I know that I have to believe in myself before I could fully accept such a blessing. I don't want to waste a bit of joy and gratitude on shame or guilt. I'm the only one holding myself back from the life I want....

2) Kate Middleton mounts a raised stage in a small museum. The historical display of jewelry, clothing, and housewares occupy a tall room with long windows in a large square somewhere in vague London. The building is old. Thick paint and heavy wooden molding age the room but shine with thorough upkeep. People cram into the room clogging the doorway and scrambling for cell phone cameras while she speaks into a microphone. Pointing to Diana's wedding dress displayed against the bright window to her right she proclaims, "I will marry him but I want to wear that dress and I want everyone to go to confession." Cameras click and people mutter excitedly, scurrying off to dispatch the news and the demands. London's Catholic churches scramble to accommodate the immense crowds of sinners coming to confession for the first time.

3) I become an immature version of my 18 year-old self at a college nestled in dry ponderosa hills somewhere in the Rockies. There is a party at an apartment on campus. Small rooms packed with students of all ages drinking, some underage and some just old enough. I'm uncomfortable. Shy and overwhelmed. A domineering acquaintance suggests we leave and I obediently follow her outside. We aren't supposed to be there, the cops show up or someone we don't like tries to follow us. Regardless we attempt to avoid our pursuers and take refuge alongside apartment and dorm buildings, darting between shrubs and tiptoeing through garden beds. She leads me into a dorm building, up three flights of outdoor stairs and says, "We can hide here." It is the dorm room of two boys she knows, but doesn't know well. It seems that everyone knows these boys except me. Never knowing them well, but knowing them by reputation or acquaintance. The landing is dark but light shines from under the middle door on the back wall. She knocks on the door and opens it, finding two young men chatting behind the bed, next to a desk. The darker skinned boy turns and exits the room, my female acquaintance following him to the adjacent bedroom. They enter the darkness and shut the door. The remaining boy, a buck-toothed, country looking fellow with full lips and thick blond hair comes out of the room walking up to me in the darkness. "Come on." We go into the bedroom and sit on the floor behind the bed where the two boys had been talking just minutes before. There is an old, medium sized Rubbermaid tub on the bed full of small toys. Different animals with various moving parts. He tries to kiss me and I turn away, shifting to sit on my knees and playing with the toys. He follows suit. "I love this one, the mother lion." He pushes the figure across the bottom of the tub, small wheels causing her lower jaw and front paws to waggle up and down. "You roll her around like this and she eats everything up. Nom nom nom." His hand leaves the lioness and goes to my shoulder. His mouth kissing my shoulder and neck. I shudder and wonder why the hell the girl I left the party with brought us here. Who were these boys and why did everyone else seem to know them?  He keeps kissing my neck, rubbing my back with his hand. I settle back on the floor, sinking my bottom back onto my heels and leaning into the side of the bed. His hand moves to my hip and he turns to face me, still kissing and nuzzling my neck. I am still. Frozen. Confused. My heart starts to race, tinged with fear but driven by curiosity and arousal. I'm not where I'm supposed to be. My mind launches an escape plan but before the impulses reach my legs to propel me out of the room the boy"s kisses reach my lips and I kiss him back. Light pecks deepen into breath-stealing kisses as his arms glide up my waist and draw me closer to him. Tears well in my eyes, not from fear but an overwhelming swelling of emotions. He has done this with many other girls. That is why everyone knows this place. Why the girl that led me here could just walk into the dorm without preamble. This is what he does. And yet I feel unique. I feel special. The nagging titter of my critical brain whispers that I'm being played, that I'm not in control but the heat in my cheeks and flood of attraction overrides the analysis and I allow myself to fall deeper into the boy's arms.

Obsessive Thoughts

I never really identified with the symptom "obsessive thoughts" until the past few weeks.

I am not sure what clicked for me but I'm pretty sure things fell into place while I was tossing and turning in bed one night.

Many, many years I have struggled to fall asleep. I can usually sleep through the night but since grade school I've taken at least 45 minutes to upwards of 4 hours just to get to sleep.

It sucks.

Tuesday night/Wednesday morning was a horrendous example of my shitty sleeping. The hub and I were in bed before 9:45 pm but by 12:45 am I had not fallen asleep. I decided to grab my blanket and pillow and hit the couch but that didn't exactly solve the problem. I was able to doze for a few hours all together before the hubby coached me back to bed and left for work. I laid in bed for a couple hours but couldn't get back to sleep.

So what about those obsessive thoughts, right?

It's not just when I'm trying to sleep but that is when I first recognized my thoughts being especially problematic. When I'm trying to sleep I usually whip up a fun dream to occupy my mind until I drift off. Lately I've been noticing my thoughts interrupting my dream sequences and I cannot distract myself from the rehashing, worrying, and wondering. It seems to go right along with my shoulder tension. All those recurring thoughts get me tense, my shoulders start creeping toward my ears and I can forget about sleep.

The same thing happens during the day. I'll be going along hunky dory and then SWOOP my mind is off on an all too familiar track analyzing, fretting, and basically hijacking my day.

What are these thoughts about, you wonder? Well, there is quite a variety but the usual mix involves some variety of social/relationship anxiety with a dash of rehashing past events and a large portion of predicting the future with a sprinkling of paranoia all awash in skewed perspective.

What gets me is how sticky these thoughts are! Whether it's keeping me up all night or following me around all day they cause problems. The hubster is sick of hearing me sigh and vocalize or hum as I'm trying to get these thoughts out of my head and no matter how we work things through or chat it out, the thoughts persist.

These thoughts take up my head space, my air time, and prevent me from living my life. My brain is so overactive I can be opening the dishwasher, preparing to do dishes and then worry myself back to the couch in a few seconds on a completely unrelated matter. I get overwhelmed, panicked, and damn near delirious. Forget about leaving the apartment, too overwhelming. Forget about making plans, I can't make myself lunch.

My thoughts are dysfunctional. My thoughts are recurring. My thoughts are obsessive and my brain's brake pedal isn't working!

Calming techniques and reassuring myself seems to help. Many of the thoughts seem based in fear so I can sometimes calm myself down and sort of coddle myself back into doing something. It may take three tries to do the dishes, but maybe tomorrow it will only take two!

It's like quicksand, get caught up in the moment and you're trapped but take a few seconds to collect yourself and be calm and you just might get out.

Crying In Plain Sight

The hubster and I went for a walk with Fio the other night and for some reason a noisy motorcycle triggered some emotions.

Next thing you know I'm crying as we're strolling down the highway. I was recalling a memory from many moons ago when my brother burnt his hand on a hot motorcycle muffler.

From what I remember it was my dad's motorcycle and we were at my aunt's house. The gals were inside and the boys were outside with the bike. Of course, Dad told my brother "don't touch that, it's hot," and of course, Mom told my dad "you better watch him, tell him not to touch," but it happened anyway.

I don't know if it actually happened this way but I have a memory of carrying a bowl full of ice water, an aluminum mixing bowl like one I still keep in my own kitchen. I remember feeling guilty and a scolding look from my mother. We were around 4 and 5 years old.

Eventually I remember the high walls and linoleum of a hospital...

I cried during the walk as I dug up this memory and experienced my old pain and confusion. Subsequent memories of feeling responsible for my siblings and getting mixed messages from my parents poured forth with more tears.

I didn't feel like I belonged with "the kids" and even though I was given the message that I was responsible for my siblings from a very young age I knew I didn't belong with "the parents." I was lost in some in between space and blaming myself for my siblings bad grades or tantrums, any issue that I couldn't understand was somehow my fault.

My sibs shunned me for being a mother hen and a killjoy, teased me and yelled at my parents for comparing them to me. My parents alternately reinforced my para-parent role giving me additional responsibility and expectations then chastising me for butting in, interpreting the consistent emotional breakdowns and sullenness as personality traits, not symptoms.

Many years later, here I am. I don't know who I am. I still feel alone, possibly even more alone and separated from my family. I haven't learned how to maintain boundaries between my responsibilities and others', I take things very personally and easily assume guilt.

But I want to move on with my life. I want things to change and I want to leave these haunting memories and shadowy obligations behind me. I'm not under my parents employment, I'm not caretaker for my grown siblings. I'm ready to have my own life, I just don't know exactly how to do that at the moment.

Worse yet I don't have the skill or gumption to defend myself against old standards within the family.

Guess that explains the avoiding I've been doing lately, eh?

In other news, we've been able to go a couple weeks without Millie peeing on anything *knockonwood* Fio got a new collar and Iroh is sporting some pretty terrible dandruff.

Monday, Monday, MAUNDAY!

This actress portrayed our
distracted/disinterested hostess

Weird dream last night/this morning.

I was out to dinner with a group of friends, but it actually felt like a sitcom. Maybe we were actors? Who knows.

We ended up at some Asian restaurant and the hostess was horrible and distracted and for some reason the chef hired me. Oh no, not as a hostess (cuz that would make a little more sense) but as a chef-accomplice.

And to up the oddness-we weren't going to be working at the restaurant. We were working as cafeteria chefs at a massive high school. The cafeteria was a modular, metal building several hundred feet from the cafeteria and the food would be transported to the students in a train of covered carts like the luggage carts at the airport!

Before the first day of cooking could commence there was some attack and hostile take over of the school. I was trapped in the cafeteria with a bunch of delinquents on KP duty and the terrorists/hostage takers had flooded the grounds.

Somehow I swam and escaped to an open park area and had to run across the soggy field to reach a street and contact help. Funnily enough I got the sense that the aggressors had released crocodiles or something in the flooded grounds to keep people out or from escaping.

Funny, funny dream.

A Walk

Fio and I just went on a mid-morning walk for the first time in a long time. It just kinda happened!

Still feeling blubbery (like the whale, not a hysterical female) and it doesn't help that I've been on an emotional roller coaster with the news that big changes might be coming into my life via my hubby's job and possible relocation. One of those possibilities is Wyoming.

 W Y O M I N G.

 It's sinking in how different that would be and it scared the crap outta me yesterday. But also intriguing and more sunshine.

Oh yeah, yesterday was my birthday too. It was good. Lots of flowers and cute cards.

I don't know if this was a sign but a crow just flew on the eave outside with a mawful of what looked like fresh guts. Not sure what I would glean from that-could be abundance, resilience, or death!

In medication news I've been tapering off Paxil and onto Lexapro and today will be my first *intentional day off of Paxil!

My Wedding

Okay. It's been a long time coming but here's the wedding recap :o)

Right after our ceremony at 9:30 am in Ashford, WA at Copper Creek Inn

Our wedding weekend extravaganza began on Thursday morning but I'll just take things from the day of, that Saturday. 

We woke up around 7:30 am and amazingly I was refreshed, well-slept, and ready to go. The fiance and I brewed some coffee and warmed up in front of the river stone fireplace while he finished up his vows. He presented me with my day-of gift-some beautiful aquamarine stud earrings *SPARKLY!* and I booted him out by 8:15 am. 

The unity painting prepared for the ceremony

Turned out a smaller curling iron makes it take at least twice as long to curl your hair but otherwise everything went smoothly and even though I wanted to be exactly on time, we may have been ten minutes late to the ceremony. 

Everyone was worried about the rain but except for a short shower that morning, there wasn't any rain falling. We even had breaks of blue sky during and shortly after the ceremony. 

Throughout the ceremony I kept thinking to myself, "This is perfect. I wouldn't change everything, everything is perfect!" Our fathers' each gave a little speech/reading and our unity painting went well and everyone seemed to enjoy the show. 

Our finished painting with the branches and trunk painted during the ceremony

My sister did my flowers and I LOVED my bouquet. She even worked in pheasant feathers for me and 13 tulips (favorite number and favorite flower) and the amaranthus was perfectly quirky and whimsical. 

Following the ceremony we snapped some pictures before heading indoors to sign the documents and make the marriage official. We munched some muffins and took some more pictures before different factions broke off for relaxation and games or reception prepping. 

The pinata my bestie and I made for my hubby to bust apart

The hubby, photographer, my best friend, and I went into Mt. Rainier Nat'l Park for some couple shots and it was snowy! We had lots of fun tromping around all dressed up and checking out the snowy park we had last seen in the summer sun. A Stellar's Jay even flew onto a branch near us (one of my favorite birds).

After that we had tea, played Farkle, and relaxed a bit before the reception. 

The weather took a turn for the worse, but I didn't really notice or care. We had about 50 people at the reception and even though it was raining everyone seemed to enjoy the food and decorations in high spirits. The food was amazing! Smoked turkey, fried macaroni & cheese, and baked beans-delicious. 

Our cake was also amazing. I didn't get any pictures myself but it was a cute three tier with ferns and acorns and mushrooms. The hubby had a groom's cake with a National Forest road sign, complete with chocolate rocks! The flavors were awesome-Italian cream cake, strawberry shortcake cake, white cake and raspberry mouse, and white chocolate raspberry cheesecake. 

The reception was somewhat derailed by a dip in the temperature and a short snowfall (I was delighted while most people seem mortified haha) we had our toasts and cake before the reception seemed to fall apart and people ran to their cars and left or took cover in the lodge. Most people just left and unfortunately those that stayed in the lodge didn't stay long enough to see the reception get back on track.

Eventually we had our first dance and daddy/daughter dance and demolished the pinatas. After a short hot tubbing break we returned to the lodge for games and a snack before returning to our cabin for the night. We we shocked to find our beater decked out in ribbons and hearts proclaiming us as newlyweds-there were even cans wired onto the back!!!

Even with the crazy weather and disorder, I wouldn't have changed a thing. The hubby and I had a great time and thoroughly enjoyed ourselves. I didn't want an overly-formal reception and although we didn't expect the snow flurry to upset our plans I enjoyed the laid back approach we took to "make it work."

And now, I am Mrs. Hannah W-------!

Playing Our Hand

The fiance and I were enjoying a game of Progressive Rummy-as we often do-and we had a funny, bittersweet moment that went something like this....

"You know what's funny?" I asked as I discarded a two of hearts and sat back in my chair.

"This?" he replied as he drew a playing card and emptied his hand onto the table. He laughed as I slumped, jotted down points and scooped the cards up to shuffle for the next hand.

"I was just thinking that if we hadn't gone to California we could have afforded a honeymoon." I smirked and gazed wistfully into his eyes.

Gazing lovingly back he laughed, "Yeah, that occurred me on the flight back home."

The trip had been more pain than pleasure and the only perk had been some quality time with his parents, which we could have got for much cheaper here in Washington. We couldn't really afford the airfare just as we couldn't afford to drive there, but we both thought making it to his sister's wedding was more important than maintaining a positive balance in our bank accounts.

"Well, we're good people." I sighed and shuffled.

"Yeah," he chuckled, "and that will make our honeymoon all the sweeter when we finally get around to it."

"Yeah." I smiled and dealt the cards.

It might be years or just months, but when we get our honeymoon, by golly, it'll be a good one! We'll have a honeymoon at home this October with our pets and hometown favorites in addition to a fun wedding weekend!

And that, my friends, is how we're playing our hand.

;o)

Ruff

I'm really glad to have Fio lately. Sure, he's a work in progress and still a little unruly at times but he's a big help when I'm home alone and feeling down.

And sadly, those down feelings have been haunting me lately.

It's not quite my usual debilitating depression but a stalking negativity that paralyzes me. I feel almost paranoid the way these thoughts keep recurring.

And it's not just self-harming, suicidal thoughts and hopelessness. It's feeling bad about the housekeeping and having too much junk and been worried about my treatment plan's effectiveness. It's weird because I've been more social and active than ever these last few weeks, but my heart is weak.

In therapy we've been talking about a deep, deep feeling of worthlessness and shame. I've been too afraid to confront the feeling before and in the past I've been able to placate my fears with superficial achievement in school or work. Now I don't have that band-aid. I simply AM and I don't see just Hannah as very worthwhile.

The sad part is I'm not a bump on a log. I've been churning out wedding decor and exercising and doing productive things, but my band-aid isn't working like it used to. I've lost my defenses and I have no back-up plan.

I'm bare. I'm raw. I'm broken. And I'm painfully aware of it without a way to cope.

I feel so vulnerable right now and confused, hurting and alone. The fiance tries to be supportive but I can't explain it and he doesn't understand what is going on-it's not the normal schtick and even if it was I think we're all sick of that by now.

Egh, before I slide into a muddy pit of despair I'm going to cut myself off. Maybe my next post will be about all the trippy dreams I'm having lately? Last night I got some bulky piece of an electronic tablet stuck under my upper lip and had to find a surgeon in Disneyland!

What Am I Letting Go?

Considering all the intense feelings around my wedding of late I thought I would type down some of my plans and try to hammer down what I wanted and what I expect and what I hope for.

*the wanted*


Originally I wanted a small wedding. A ceremony with select family and friends amounting to less than 25 people and a reception with a few more friends but still well below 50 people.

The fiance and I were planning on a homey, semi-informal reception with table games, a little dancing, cocoa, coffee, and tea. A pinata throw down between myself and the fiance. No booze, little formality, and not a DJ in sight.

Myself, my sis, bff, Mom, and other gal pals making the cake.

We were planning on an outdoor, morning ceremony with an early afternoon reception so we could catch an evening flight off the continent to some faraway honeymoon spot.

*the expected*


Now we have our morning ceremony planned on grounds where my parents have rented out a slew of cabins with hot tubs and fire rings and room for a buffet, dance floor, and possibly a live band for later in the evening.

The ceremony will have right around 25 people in attendance and the reception at 3ish in the afternoon will add at least 50 more. We'll be having a champagne toast and hiding the beer until darkness falls. Although I wouldn't be shocked to see people drinking at dinner and into the night.

We have table games to be placed at the tables and are compiling a list of songs for our playlist. Pinata death match is planned and I designed a door prize game with cartoon versions of the newlyweds for our guests to vote on.

The core group of ceremony guests will be staying on the grounds the night before and night of the ceremony. The fiance and I were going to be up early Sunday to get to the airport but now it looks like we'll have a relaxed brunch before heading home to Jet City.

*the hoped for*


I hope the whole thing doesn't get to feeling too big for its britches. I detest the forced formality at most weddings. I suppose I get this from my limited experience and TV exposure to weddings where regular down-home folk try to evoke the perceived glory of vaunted celeb and TV weddings.

I hope to avoid awkward social moments as much as possible even though I know that's next to impossible! Even the limited guest list we had in mind during early planning wouldn't guarantee smooth sailing :o)

I think I glorified the small, intimate wedding as being more personal and authentic. I'm afraid that a larger affair will diminish the ... well, the "sacred." It's hard to put in words but something feels strange to me about traditional mucho grande weddings... Like they are less meaningful in some way? At least to me it feels that way.

Hopefully I'll gain insight to that later. I'm sure I'm not the only one but I'm also sure that they feel just right to other people....

Hmpf. Those are some of my thoughts. And now, I shall poop the pooch as he seems to be doing his "gotta go" dance!

Reality

This year seems to be about reality. Not that I'm in the trenches or experiencing "life on the streets" or some other cinematic awakening 'real life' experience. I just see a pattern developing that I struggle and eventually come to accept the reality of my situation and try and move on....

It's not fun. It sucks. It's sad. It's hard.

There's so much about it that feels like giving up on dreams. If you haven't figured it out yet, I'm big on dreams and fantastical thoughts and wonders. Accepting that I can't do something about a given situation is not an easy egg for me to sit on!

What I really want to talk about is last night.

Last night I gave up on having a honeymoon. The reality of our financial situation is that we aren't going anywhere. I've felt a foreboding feeling for weeks but didn't really accept the reality until last night.

It feels terrible. Like admitting defeat and accepting a heartbreak unto yourself all at once. I feel ashamed and sad.

I know that I couldn't really help going off the deep end, a lot of that had to do with medications messing with my system, but my depression problems seem to be the root of all evil when it comes to our financial problems.

I feel like my depression has ruined my wedding and my honeymoon and ripped the dream right out from underneath my feet. That's not to say that I won't have a great wedding and a lovely at-home honeymoon, but it's an acknowledgement of a loss.

Farewell, wedding dreams. Rest in peace. I resign myself to join the masses of women that have watched their wedding plans disintegrate and mutate before their eyes. I'll have a good wedding, I just feel defeated at having let my wedding slip through my fingers.

I guess most of that shame is because I still feel-deep down-that it's my fault. The depression, the budget going bonkers, the mish-mashed priorities. Somehow I think that if I had kept myself together I could have worked everything out better. It definitely isn't comfortable feeling myself and my health put to the front of the line when I historically prefer to hide behind other to-do list items.

I need to forgive myself. No one else seems to be upset over how things are turning out-and it seems to shaping into a nice affair-I just have to accept the reality and that I cannot change what will be or what led us to this place.

That's reality. Not to say that things can't change, but part of reality is accepting the whole truth of a situation and not denying or painting a rosy picture. Things didn't turn out the way we wanted. That's that.

Ugh. Feelings are such a pain in the ass sometimes.

What's Really in the Water?

Last night I had a wonderfully quirky dream that involved the Puget Sound's aquatic animals. I'm not sure what exactly triggered the dream but it involved trash and magic.

In the dream some magical force from the sea drew all the aquatic animals into the sound near Seattle. The power then drew all the refuse and garbage from the sound and dropped it into Century Link stadium. In the dream the trash mounded over all the stadium seats while seagulls circled and crabs skittered across the pile.

In addition to the big pile of garbage in the stadium there were several abandoned/sunken boats dropped onto the I-5 bridge at UW. Talk about a traffic jam.

All of the animals hung out downtown for all the news cameras and gathering crowds. The sea-slimed trash was putting out quite a stink and the large "stunt" drew lots of media attention.

Somehow signs came out with pictures of the animals and trash and quippy lines like, "would you want to live like this?" There was a media fury over the water pollution and refuse dumped into the sound and scientists giving their best guests about the amounts of trash in the ocean worldwide.

At the end of the dream there was a vague sense that Seattle was up-in-arms against the trash and pollution in the sound, major change on the horizon.

The dream made me wonder-how much trash is really out there in the water? Out of sight, out of mind it must have had time to build-up and a lot of us have already heard about the giant plastic island floating in the Pacific. (Google it up-it's unbelievable)

I don't know if I'm a softy or I'm extra-sensitive because of my struggles lately, but I'm emotional just thinking of the problem. Contemplating just how many creatures are affected by the waste is a gargantuan effort-and so many of those creatures are simply amazing.

Maybe seeing that dead whale at Longbeach has pulled all those creatures a little bit closer to my heart-hell, a dead bird on the road plucks at my heartstrings!

(Not to mention I can't pass a honeybee crawling on the ground without lifting it to a shrub where I assume it'd be safer... the fiance thought I was kidding the first time I halted in the midst of a walk to "save a bee," but I was genuine! He's also become used to me directing our traffic away from slugs crossing our paths or when I move a stranded worm off the sidewalk to some grass.)

*le sigh* I guess all I can do is put in my two little cents and send happy thoughts out into the sea and keep hoping for the best.

Baby steps, Hannah. You can't heal yourself and save the world's sea life all in a day's time!

Weird Dreams

Last night involved some odd dreams.

First set of dreams involved a college friend and fellow blogger of mine. We had a visit and drove around to a casino in the middle of nowhere but the most memorable aspect of the dream was the ending-a wedding.

My friend married a pretty blonde chick in a renaissance fair style wedding. Crowns, tents, goblets, and costumes-the whole shebang! Her outfit included a white halter top with a bare mid-drift and one of them belly-necklace-thingies. It was quite an odd compilation of details! Especially when you consider I haven't heard of any renaissance fair tendencies from him!

The second dream was definitely more intense.

I was back in my childhood home with my family and we were under attack. The country was invaded by Al-Qaida types!

I think the dream stemmed from an episode of Parking Wars where there was a conflict outside a mosque. Funnily enough the drama stemmed from a bystander that wasn't even a member of the mosque!

Regardless of the reasoning, the dream was dramatic. Our neighborhood was invaded and we had to fortify our home. Running from window to window watching for small squads of invading troops and trying to keep our animals safe-although my cats ran out and disappeared :o(

Eventually we ended up in a large bomb shelter in our backyard. Somehow we had prepared for the invasion and had a high-tech bomb shelter with monitoring equipment hidden on the surface of our yard.

Unfortunately we were discovered months later by the invaders and there was a sort of hostage situation/negotiation. The whole thing was unpleasant and stressful and not a pleasant dream at all.

I've had numerous dreams based in my childhood neighborhood where we are invaded by terrorists, opposing armies, or random thugs! None are pleasant and usually including death, guns, running and hiding, and anxiety.

Definitely an interesting night in my head!