More strange dreams....

I had a dream that I had to write some short stories and books. One I was writing was about a man who was an astronaut. He went outside the spaceship on a mission but was some how he got disengaged from the spaceship and the rest of the crew had to come back to earth without him. His body would circle the earth daily. He was young…about 32. So his widow found him floating by using her telescope.. She would get a glass of wine and toast him as he floated by and 'talk' with him nightly.In my dream I was watching her do this while she was sitting in her kitchen. At the same time, I could see through her eyes through the telescope and hear her thoughts inside her head....what she would talk to him about. The widow was at peace.

Another Mandyism

I say, Holey Moley Macaroley

Mandy says, Holey Moley Macaroni and Cheese

I can relate....

A couple just got married, and when the husband went back to his house he found that his bride had disappeared. He got very worried and gathered up all his friends to search for his wife with no success. Two days after his wife disappeared the man returned home to find her in the kitchen. He asked her what she has been up to and why she hasn't been home for so long.

She replied: "These four men kidnapped me and had wild sex with me for a week."

The husband answered: "But it's only been two days what do you mean a week?"

"I am only here to get something to eat."

Aunt Nellie

I’ve been sewing for 57 years! My aunt got me started when I was two. She gave me a little pink round sewing kit that was like a suitcase with the hinge side being flat, had a little doll in it and some dresses cut out where all I had to sew was the edges and the little dress was made. I remember how hard I worked learning to thread the needle and make my stitches even. I never had trouble threading a needle. My aunt worked for Singer and had a little store in Goulds, Florida. She could drape a dress form with fabric and you’d swear she had sewn a dress. She was my mom’s best friend and we called her Aunt Nellie. She always drove a Buick and we knew it was her by the holes in the fender. I used to sit on her lap begging to drink some of her coffee and she would tell me no, that coffee made your knees black. I’d get off her lap, go under the table and raise her dress up over her knees, roll down her stockings below her knees and declare that she didn’t have black knees. Aunt Nellie would laugh and I’d crawl back up into her lap and she would let me sip her coffee with her. Nellie Tolbert was her name. I last saw her in March of 1969. Good memories.

Funny....probably only to women tho...

Q: How many women with MENOPAUSE does it take to change a lightBulb?

Woman's Answer: One! ONLY ONE! And do you know WHY? Because no one else in this house knows HOWto change a light bulb! They don't even know that the bulb is BURNED OUT!They would sit in the dark for THREE DAYS before they figured it out.And, once they figured it out, they wouldn't be able to find the stupidlight bulbs despite the fact that they've been in the SAME CABINET for thepast 17 YEARS! But if they did, by some miracle of God, actually find them, 2 DAYS LATER, the chair they dragged out to stand on to change the STUPID light bulb would STILL BE IN THE SAME SPOT!!!!! AND UNDERNEATH IT WOULD BE THE WRAPPER THE FREAKING LIGHT BULBS CAME IN!!! BECAUSE NO ONE EVER PICKS UP OR CARRIES OUT THE GARBAGE!!!! IT'S A WONDER WE HAVEN'T ALL SUFFOCATED FROM THE PILES OF GARBAGE THAT ARE A FOOT DEEP THROUGHOUT THE ENTIRE HOUSE!! IT WOULD TAKE AN ARMY TO CLEAN THIS PLACE! AND DON'T EVEN GET ME STARTED ON WHO CHANGES THE TOILET PAPER ROLL!!

I'm sorry. What was the question?

They're coming to take me away.....

With a family like mine with some family members who are mentally ill, I think we all wonder if we are mentally ill. We didn’t know what mental illness was. I remember my sister changing when she hit puberty almost the 6th grade. Up until then, we were close and were typical sisters. Suddenly one day I said something teasing her and she went off on me. I didn't know what to say or do...heck, I was only about eleven. To date, I've not had a lucid conversation with her since then. A few veiled conversations but I was never for sure what she meant. It's been 48 years like this.

When she was about 45 or so, she had an episode deluxe and was diagnosed as bipolar. I tracked down depression and bipolar/manic depressive to my paternal side of the family.  My sister and my older brother have a rage that is unbelievable. Both live in their own worlds and their own truths. My sister prefers to sleep predominately and my brother is locked into a negative hateful world where everyone is against him. I tracked down this rage through genealogy to my mother's side of the family.

I know I certainly have the ups and downs….not extremes though. I know I certainly ‘worry’ a lot….digest and redigest something over and over and over in my head…I certainly can’t take any medication for it…all meds either leave me so drugged that I can’t function or the side effects are devastating.

I’ve wondered and thought about over the years how a parent could raise their kids to be crazy….sure, it would be mean as hell, but it could be done. Sometimes I think about the stuff mom (and daddy) did to me...mostly mom and how it has crippled my life at times. I don’t know if I will ever get over it…..when I’m down, I hate her so much but when I’m up or level, I understand how it all happened and why she did what she did and want so badly to forgive her. It all has affected my entire life, my outlook, my choice in men, my choices in life in general and my reactions.  Of course I’m screaming inside hating it, but I can’t or haven’t used my voice to stop the injustice. Sometimes I do find my voice. I can certainly find my voice to everyone but I never could to mom, both husbands and the men I’ve been involved deeply in. I’ve found my voice the most in the last 3 years but results are still the same…it’s like I ask for nothing and settle for less. If I ignore all of the negative and pretend everything is ok, I can function better and everyone gets along…until I start feeling used and it just all blows up inside me.

Sometimes when I’m down, I think about the things that happened to me as a child and since and think that there is NOTHING the book Sybil had on me. That I am not permanently in a mental hospital is wonderment to me. I’ve functioned mostly by learning to withdraw inside myself and live in my craft/art world… put up brick walls around myself and not let anyone in. This works very well for me until I let someone inside and every time it’s left me vulnerable and hurt. I’ve always bounced back but I’m not bouncing back as well any longer.

One thing that Rodina told me is true: I make up these rules inside my head as to how someone should treat me and I don’t tell the person the rules and of course they break the rules and I’m hurt. This throws me into a tizzy inside me. I’m getting better at this but I don’t understand why everyone can’t just have basic respect and caring to others. There are so very few people who give me this unconditionally. There are times that my best friends have given me this but even they have taken advantage of me and used me.

Mostly I overcome my moods by writing and loving. Works for me.

Men....can't live without them....can't shoot them...

I’m not being crass and issuing a blanket statement concerning men, but most men, in my personal experience do one of two things: 1. they pretend to want to know what’s in my head just go get to have sex with me…then if I have sex with them, they forget that I am more than just sex and treat me like an ignorant unobtrusive person who is only good for sex, cooking, cleaning, laundry, and such…oh yes, let’s add money. Or 2. they could care less what’s in my head, they only want in my bed. I haven't had much, but they certainly knew how to get what little I did have.

I have had some really good friends with some men. Some respected me and never made any sexual overtones towards or with me. I could/can count on their help at any time or any place. However, the relationships are on a surface level and we would never share personal information. The other male friends who have finally realized that I am not about to enter into a sexual relationship with them, have stayed true to our friendship. Oh, it's there...they would jump at a chance for sex...but they have kept up the facade of friendship with me and we don't enter into that part of a relationship. I can count on them when needed and they know me a bit more than the average friendship. The maintenance of these friendships go fine as long as I give them at least 75% attention to their issues. It's all about them.

A friend of mine told me years and years ago that we women don't have any right to complain about men and how they treat us as we women are the very ones who raised the men in the first place. Some truth rings true to this statement.

Touch

I think the human touch is probably the most important thing in a person’s life from birth to death. It’s also the one subject that I’ve struggled with my entire life. I have only been touched….really touched once in my life and that was back in 2001 and for only a total of about a few hours…..it happened over a 4 day period. Until then, I only let my brother hug me or touch me. Oh, I could have sex but even with that….there was no real touching. I’ve only known maybe three people who I have felt comfortable with to let touch me that weren't my family. Even with my best friends I'm too damned afraid of being touched without feeling panic and sick at my stomach. I’m afraid if I let someone touch me, that I couldn’t stop crying.

Doubletake

About 5 years ago, my brain started seeing words that aren’t there….on billboards…in books…on signs….then I would be confused and couldn’t figure out what the heck it was that I read. The first time, I saw the word ‘scissors’ on a billboard and it just struck me wrong….then I looked again and the word was ‘silver’. How I got ‘scissors’ is beyond me. Ok, now then, I’m creative and I ‘see’ things in words…sort of like hearing a song and I can see the actual words floating by me. All this thought comes in about three seconds and then I focus on what saw.

Ok, yes, I’m certified to be in a rubber room at times. However, if I keep my mouth shut, then others won’t know what goes on inside my head! In any case, my thoughts are entertaining inside my head.

If I Were To Die Tomorrow

If I were to die tomorrow
What would you say to me today?

That you’d have loved me more
Or that you’d have more part of my life
Maybe that you’d have paid attention to me
Or that you’d have held me close wiping away my tears
That you’d have laughed with me
Or you’d have looked into my heart
And cherished me all the more.

If I were to die tomorrow
What would you do with me today?

That you’d play with me
Or do all the little things I’d asked of you
Perhaps hold my hand and listen to my dreams
Or made my life easier
Maybe just sit with me in quiet
Or touch me and kiss me in your special way.

If I were to die tomorrow
What would you do the day after?

That you’d tell others how wonderful I was
Or how good you were to me
How saintly you treated me
Or tell all the little lies to make you seem the perfect one
That you’d be safe in your world
Or shed a tear or two.

If I were to die tomorrow
What would you whisper to me over my grave?
What would you have to say?

rlp 12/28/08