(december 08)
Did you ever read those books as a kid where you can pick from a variety of endings? I've decided that's exactly how I'm going to end "my story" before moving on to my whole new
"important stuff only and anonymous, at that"
gig. As far as my personal life goes, you can just go ahead and select from the following:
1) the neuro calls today, tells me it's not "a mass" after all, come to find out it's one of those Brain Worms, and they flush cynaide in my ears till the worm escapes, boring a hole through my right temple and leaving me with a complete air hole that runs straight through my brain, in one temple and out the other, leaving me with the most perfect excuse ever as to why I will not listen to reason, seeing as how it literally goes in one ear and out the other.
2) the neuro calls today and says it's harmless, and prescribes me a good dose of steroids as I requested, which help me to steadily increase in energy, stamina, and strength over due time, and I grow lean and hard as a result, and find myself unwittingly attracted to female bodybuil
wait
3) I get the call today that all's well, no treatment is needed, just get by the best I can, so I slowly grow calm, normal, and mature, join a church, meet that tall man who doesn't know who Elvis is, and we move to the woods and have 20 children, one after the next, bam bam bam, and I die old, happy, and all stretchy and saggy but full of peace and joy,
or
4) they operate, take out the mass, and my shaved head never regrows the hair, and I accidentally sort of like it, and start making edgy videos like Sinead O'Connor, where I wear big boots and shout at the camera
I don't care how it all ends. What's my life anyway? What's your life? In the end, it's Jesus. It's all Jesus, man.
...
I just couldn't take it anymore. I can't deal with my flip-flop thing anymore. It's not that I don't like my flip-flops anymore. It's just that my feet are cold.
So my new boots are soft and tan and suede-looking, but they're not really suede because they were only $12.99. They're sort of Olive Oyl looking but it's ok. I would tuck my jeans in them like my kid and her friends do but I don't think I'm cool enough for that. Anyway how can I be cool when my socks say No Nonsense on them? Why do my socks say that? I didn't buy them. I guess they came from my mom's closet or something. It's a really good thing I'm still single at this point in time. There's just one too many things in my life right now to be embarrassed over, the socks being one of them.
In a little while I go get my mouth stitches out. Who knows what fiasco this will lead to? Will one of the ends of the strings be found to have grown into my gums? And they have to extract it slowly, not unlike a tapeworm extraction? Have you seen that? There's a video on youtube of someone slowly pulling a live tapeworm straight out of a hole in his stomach. It about made me want to toss my cookies. I'm hoping after today I'll be able to eat normal food again. I'm going to ask him to please patch up the holes in my mouth so I can eat. I got some bread today. Good old bread. Bread and me, we go way back. Me and my bread.
If I have to go any longer living on bread and protein powder I think I'm going to cry. Speaking of that, did I not give the fair warning that the mri dye makes me mean for a while? This is why, last night I went ahead and destroyed and trashed my microphone. To prevent me from taking my current tear any further. But no worries, I got a check for $25 from my grandmother yesterday. This weekend I will be putting it to good use on a new webcam. My hair is sort of cute right now so maybe I should take advantage of the situation.
Guess what else. I have to wait till NEXT week to hear from my neurologist on the latest reports. Has to do with his rotation schedule thing.
Guess what else. Today I woke up and thought about this for a while: I think I want to be a pastor's wife. For real. I think I would make a most excellent one. Think about it! I could speak out if I wanted but there'd really be no pressure to be consistent, seeing as how it would be HIS domain. Yes. I think I want to hide behind/stand beside a pastor/husband. Actually come to think of it I'm having a memory-
I haven't thought of this in a long time-
Did you listen to my ramble called the Sweaty Scary Man? The guy who claimed to be a mafia person? (http://alrightifigureditout.blogspot.com/2008/09/sweaty-scary-man-1.html) Well, when he was sitting there all drunk and rambling and slumped over, he looked at my face for a long time, then busted out with this: And I am not kidding:
He goes, "You have thin lips. I'm not sure I trust a woman with thin lips. But you also have a warm heart. You are going to end up with someone VERY SPECIAL. You are going to marry a VERY SPECIAL MAN."
And later that night after all was said and done, and I was happy to be home and him in jail, I laid there and pondered his words. Call me nutty but I sensed that he was really picking up on something. I sensed that he was really speaking a word to me. And someone else one time mentioned that I would
nevermind
So...
You found me here, in Worm Island? Are you on to me and my various m.o.'s? As you can see, I hide away here and
It's like this is where I sit and write on my little journal, tear out a page, stick it in a large conch shell and
I'm on a beach somewhere in the recesses of my mind. Where are you, in your head? I'm spending the weekend at my older sister's, to hang out with my little neice and nephew and take them on stroller walks, listen to my sister talk about her life, drink wine with my brother in law and listen to why I should appreciate football, etc etc
My betta is sulking for some unknown reason. The only thing different is that he has rocks in his tank from Glen Rose that I stole recently off a river bottom. I couldn't help it. They're shaped really nice, perfect for a fish to swim around. But I think I might have introduced some kind of foul bacteria into his life or something. He's not eating, not even his flakes. I cleaned his tank today and spent time with him but he's still acting weird. Maybe he's fasting.
That's all.
..
(october 08)
A few weeks ago when my brother-in-law was driving me home, my nephew asked from the back seat where we were going, and they started talking about the plans for the evening. My nephew got quiet and then said, "But Daddy, what are we going to do about Amy?" He meant, was I coming with them or not. But my brother-in-law responded, "Son- you have just asked the eternal question."
I don't know how to describe how I feel today. My hand is just halfway here. I can use it but I just can't feel everything. It feels light. And strange, when I make a fist. Very weird. I can feel it coming on again. It's coming. How long will it be with me this time? A week? 2 weeks? A month? I had a banana a few minutes ago and could hardly taste it. I can't sleep. The reason I can't sleep is because I want to sleep. So I'll have enough energy to walk around the fair all day tomorrow. So because I want to sleep, naturally this means I'll be up all night. I'm in a bad mood. Not so great for blogging but oh well. I have a chicken thing in the oven, one of the things that squirt hot juice at you when you try to cut into it. The breaded thing. My mom is spending another weekend at her boyfriend's house again. Actually, her fiancee. So the plan is, I'll have some help and be able to keep the apartment me & my mom have. I'm already on the lease. I didn't even know it. So I'll just be taking over. She's going to help me out financially until I can take it over all the way. She also said I'm more than welcome to go with her but she knows I'd never do that. But she told me yesterday her boyfriend said it would be no problem at all. I just can't do it. Unless of course I had to.
What's my life come to?
I'm enjoying little things more and more. I'm starting to feel like I did back in the day when I stayed home with Leah. I'm getting into more in-depth conversations with my nephews and enjoying playing with them more. I'm letting go. I'm accepting. I'm grasping the reality of what I'm facing: I don't think my life will ever be the same again. My issues with my body are not going away. New things are happening. I feel like I'm on a downward slope, but it has little hills on it. I'm going up and down, but on a slide. Do you know what I mean?
I had a good dream 2 nights ago. I saw a room inside a house, it was a room I had been searching for. It was like an atrium, the ceiling was one big sky light, and there was no carpet. Just dirt! Good dirt! And I got 4 corn plants and planted one in each corner. Then I took 2 large flat slabs of concrete and laid them down in the center of the room, to walk on. They didn't line up flush, you could see the broken edges. It looked like a broken road. I went outside to a garden and found some smooth river rocks, grabbed them, and brought them in, and scattered them on the dirt. I made my own special room. Just looking at it made me happy. The concrete slabs made me think of my own broken road that's led me to this point in time. I knew I was going to use this room to sit and think and pray. I think it represents finding my own home in my own head. Or something.
My spirit is being all freed up right now. I realize I can't be freed from this. So I decided to be freed through it. I'm going to allow this situation to free me. I'm going to unravel and untie myself on more and more levels until I am the happiest and most relaxed camper on Planet Earth. I'm going to continue to share and report my findings. Don't worry.
My betta made a bubble nest! This means he's wanting a mate. I feel bad. He's not getting one. I heard when they make a bubble nest they're happy with their home and wanting to start a family. I'm highly honored but I also heard they kill the female bettas. After they breed. And then they spend a long time guarding the eggs inside the bubble nest they made. The male makes it. I think that is so cute. If I were a fish I would totally live in his bubble nest. It's so cute, he made it right around the little live plant that's floating in the water. The bubbles stick together, all in a cluster.
So tomorrow I'll either be on Stroller Duty or Wheelchair Duty. Troy's grampaw is coming too. I haven't been to the fair since '03. I went with my coworker, we were bookkeepers at a craft store (the one on Lovers & Mockingbird right next to a liquor store, we had bums sleeping in the bushes! Seriously! Right out front.) and that's the last time I ever got on a ride. I was on a spinning thing and it made me throw up. Rides never used to make me throw up. I guess it's a sign of old age.
I rode with Troy & the boys up to Val's office today to pick her up and she wasn't done yet, so we all went in and hung out while she finished. She was the only one there so I played ball with my nephews in the hallway. The older nephew has absolutely perfect aim. I went exploring and found what appeared to be a conference room. There was a large table in the middle surrounded by important looking high-backed chairs and a Star Wars-looking module contraption in the middle of the table with buttons on it. I read it and it's an conference call thing. I looked around and was so thankful I don't have to spend time in that room. However there was one thing that did please my eyes: a very large dry-erase board. There was some writing on it. I left my mark. I drew my man with the large nose and hairy chin. My sister's office overlooks the highway, I just sat there and watched traffic go by. I said it was the Traffic Aquarium, then Troy said no, it's the Rat Aquarium, for all the rat race people. It's so sad. We're all trapped. I looked down and saw all those people in those cars and wondered how many of them really wanted to be in that car, on a highway. It's all we know! But I suspect if the men got a taste of riding a horse each day and the women got a taste of stirring a big black kettle over a big warm hearth in a cabin somewhere, things would be different. If we could only see and taste what we're missing. I bet we'd all revolt.
..
well here I am with a fresh box of cookies, thinking hard about everything and where I'm headed from here. Wait let me back up. For starters, I have had the best 4 days EVER. My daughter had her tonsils out and recuperated here, with me. I told her to get them out more often. We had an utter blast. Movies, Starbucks, long walks, long talks, etc etc. I started to tear up when her dad called to say he was on his way to come get her. At least I have my fish. And my cookies. It's days like this where a good addiction would come in handy but I don't have any anymore. Speaking of addictions, don't you for one second say I'm judgemental when I talk about how wrong it is to get all into lustful things. I am the first to admit the reason for that: I used to be a total sex fiend. I'm pretty sure this snowballed and landed me right where I am today. Don't you see? It's a personal battle that I choose to fight publicly. I speak out against things that have personally held me down and messed up my life. There's feelings involved. Not self-righteousness. If you could only see the invisible yet very real mountain I have had to climb to get to where I am today. No I don't mean where I'm at physically. I mean, mentally and emotionally. I had to overcome so much. So when I say, enough of the lustful images! What I'm saying is, SAVE IT ALL FOR THE ONE YOU LOVE! And don't let it fill your voids. And when I say, GET RID OF THE DEMONIC IMAGES! What I'm saying is, I've been fighting demons since my teen years and I really don't like seeing them posted all over the place, just for fun, by people who have no idea what it is to really be caught in a struggle with them. At least on a conscious level. Do you hear what I'm saying? Everything I talk about comes from my heart cause it's affected me personally.
I saw Dr. C yesterday. Come to find out, I think I like him better than Dr. B. WAY better. He spent a long time with me and really investigated and asked questions that I didn't even think about. He's hot on my trail. He thinks we're back to the ms thing. Did I tell you about my tongue thing? The stabbing pain I had in it? And how food doesn't taste as strong anymore? I mean, flavors. I have to use a whole lot of seasoning to taste it. And guess what. I had no idea, but the bottom of my feet are numb. I didn't know until he rolled a metal thing up and down each one. He also looked into my eyes for a long time with a light and kept going back to my right eye. He had me walk around. He did this thing with my hands to test the strength in them, and my right hand is useless. So he ordered another go-round in the MRI machine, full-body, top to bottom, he said they're not going to leave any stone unturned this time. He said, "don't get scared, but there's a chance we may see another spot in your brain, and if that's the case, you have ms." I told him I'm not scared, I'll be relieved and happy. I'll get on meds and get on with my life, for once and for all. He said they're also taking a good look at my neck. I'm going to be all fixed up. I also told him I'd slip him cash under the table not to order me another lumbar puncture. He said if I need another one they'll knock me out for it.
I'm going to the fair this weekend with my sister & her family. I'm on Stroller Duty. I can't wait. Also, my mom asked to see the video I made of her and her boyfriend. So I made her a page and put it on there, hoping it will deter her from seeing all my videos. I don't care if she sees them, but what I do care about is if her boyfriend sees them. I don't care if he sees them, but if he sees them, then his family will see them! My future step-siblings! There's 3 of them! A daughter and two sons! All around my age, with wholesome families and everything! Normal! And Baptist! What am I going to do? What if they see all the videos I did? On top of my normal everyday reality, that I'm teetering on the verge of becoming the Adult Vegetable Child? Now this! They are going to see what a freak I am! No wait, I'm not a freak, but to normal people like that, I could be viewed that way. Help.
My plumbing has ceased entirely. Unless I take a laxative. Sorry if that's gross but that's the price you pay. Also sometimes I don't recognize a word at first glance, I'll sound it out and wonder what it is, then it hits me, and I feel stupid. I am getting more stupid on some levels, yet more genius in so many other ways. How many contrasts can one human have? Do you even get me?
I've been doing this new thing lately at night: driving over to these apartments I used to live at, just a few miles down the road, parking the car and then walking up and down the streets in a nearby neighborhood. It's where me & Leah used to walk when we lived there. It's right by one of her old schools. We used to walk and talk, and go to the playground at the school and sit on the swings for a while. So I've been doing this by myself lately. Except for the playground. I just walk. It feels so good. I just can't take it anymore. Being cooped up. I go slow but that's why walking at night is so wonderful. Nobody can see you. You can even go barefoot. You can wear your pajamas.
I scared myself. With the videos. It's the strangest thing: each time I have a video page up and open, more dreams come. Then, I lock myself out, and they stop. It's like that singing frog cartoon that
wait
I'm taking a break. Don't mind me.
Monday, August 24, 2009
...
(august 08)
I just got a call from my daughter, she's still in Austin, and she announced to me that she is "going to start recycling." I said I knew it, I knew you'd go down there and come back a tree hugger. She's not referring to normal everyday recycling. When my kid says she's "about to start something" it never means it's going to be a passive endeavor. She says they went to Barton Springs today and there was an older lady sitting there topless, sunning herself, and I got the full description of her breasts. According to my daughter the woman had "nipples the size of Jupiter." She said there was a little boy playing nearby, and the dad was sort of bothered by the spectacle because the little boy kept staring, and the dad said, loud enough to where to woman could hear: "Son, not all of them look like that. Most of them are perky." Then another woman came and sat down by the first one and she also removed her top. The dad said, "That's it. I'm taking you to a PG movie." And they left. At least they were halfway covered. Not like the website my dad and his girlfriend were all hyped up about last time I was over there: Hippie Hollow. And guess what. They actually went there. To be voyeurs. I got the full description of the place and the types of folks that go there. I am uncomfortable with public nudity. I don't think it's a beautiful thing when it's out in the open. I don't think man parts should be swinging around for the world to see especially. Especially the men.
I just walked to the mailbox and with each step down the stairs I heard my conscience say, "I should not be pushing myself". With each step. I'm getting more and more dizzy. It's either fall or stand on the edge forever, what would you do? I might as well go ahead and fall and get it over with. As I was walking to the mailbox I had something new! Sharp jabs in my right hip. Little stabs. Like something was biting me. And my fingers and toes have sharp prickles in them. Even now as I type, it feels like I touched a cactus. I'm strangely calm this time around. Last time I panicked. I'm not going to freak out again. I'm going to just get fixed and keep it simple and just keep on. I got a letter from my grandmother. Here let me open it and I'll tell you what it says.
WOAH!!!! For starters, a $50 gift card to Whole Foods! No way! I can use that! Oh I am a happy camper!!! what she wrote in the card is boring so I'll spare you.
...
Well here we go again. No silly not with a new blog. With the hospital. Guess what. I'm a dizzy mess. More so than usual. There's a strange feeling at the back of my neck, it feels like someone has their thumbs pressing on it. I already know what it is- it's my backup health problem. As if the west nile wasn't enough. No, my body needed a backup plan to use against me. It's my bone thing. The bones in my neck are slowly pushing on my spinal cord. It was found on an MRI but I didn't give it a second thought because of the whole west nile thing. I've had a lightheaded sensation for a few weeks now but now it's all the time. I'm dizzy. If I stand up to fast I feel like I'm going to drop. I had another meltdown today and my mom said it's hospital time again. I told her I can't deal with the people who answer the phones there. She said she'll call tomorrow and bully them real good till they can see me. If you're not dying, you have to wait. I didn't want to go back there because of this. I was waiting to get my own neurologist so I wouldn't have to wait so long when I needed to be seen, but looks like that's not happening just yet. The hospital is run by medical bullies and I have trouble standing my ground with them. But that's another topic.
At least I have a new blog. Each new page is like Christmas.
My neck feels like Darth Vader is holding onto it, gently. It doesn't hurt. My mom said if the bones aren't lifted off the spinal cord it could result in paralysis! For real! And it starts in your hands. That would explain why my hands have been funky lately. So I guess the dizzy thing is good, it's to get my attention to get back and get more treatment? My mom said my body is talking to me. I never wanted to have a conversation with my body.
I need a stiff drink. And the only place I can get that currently is at my sister's house. But I don't think I can drive over there right now. My head is not right. You're not right either. Nobody is.
But guess what. I decided to be happy. Apparently there is no escape to all this. So I've decided to make the most of it. More so than usual. I rearranged my bedroom today and it looks cute. I'm going to make sure I never run out of chocolate, and I have some new ideas for some drawings. Just stay with me. That's all I ask. I don't know why I fight this blogging thing. I would have lost my mind without it.
..
Today I opened up the styrofoam ice chest that's been in the back of my closet since I moved here, it's part of what my kid refers to as my "armageddon stash". I do not stockpile. In fact I think it might backfire on us all. It occured to me that if and when something happens where people really do need to break into their stashes, that means their neighbors might be hungry, which means it wouldn't be right, and fights are going to break out and then the cops will have to get involved, then they'll probably crack down and make everybody turn their stuff in for the common good. And then you will hang your head and let out a long sigh as you realize all your time and effort was wasted. At least that's how I feel about it. I'd rather have my token 6 weeks worth of goods and then when I get low, expect a miracle. Or just go ahead and starve.
So about this ice chest. It has all my fire supplies in it. I laughed as I opened it up and examined the contents. It's all about fire. But the only problem is, I only seem to be focused on lighting it. It looks like I didn't think too far past that. I have several packs of dollar store lighters, dollar store matches, and even a thing of lighter fluid, which I don't even know how to use. And then there's my spiffy little .. what is it? All I know is, I ordered it off this survival website back in '05. That's when I got all this stuff. When I moved to that little house in Red Oak. I was terrified there. Absolutely terrified. That's when I started thinking about surviving, is when I lived there. I guess I had good reason to be thinking along those lines. I should have stocked up on bug spray though. But about my little oven thing. I don't know what it is. But it came with a long-burning candle that goes in it, and you can actually cook things on it. Like a little campstove. I think it's cute. You should have seen me each time there was a bad storm. I got my supplies out and set them on the counter, all ready. My daughter laughed at me. We also had a rat or two at that place. I had to learn to set a trap. That was horrible. I never caught any. I just gave up and started throwing things up into the attic to drive them away. Everything. Laundry soap, mothballs, pinecones, boric acid. Salt. Eucalyptus leaves. You name it. I threw it up there. It worked! The rats/mice left. I wonder what the landlord thought about it when he went up there and saw it all. I also left over a hundred gallons of water up there. Just in case. Because when the electricity went out there, the water went out too! I'm telling you, that place was scary! And did I ever mention that I found out that it used to be a crackhouse? That explains the strange people who would show up every now and then with a shifty feel to them, knocking on my door and asking if so and so was home. Why did I live there? How did this happen? Can I go back in time and not move there?
..
I don't even know where to begin on this one.
My body is breaking down, however, I strongly suspect with a quick flip of a surgeon's knife I will be made well once more. I'm thinking all I need is a few of those little bones popped off and I'll be up and running again. I'm dizzy. And my palms are numb. And I didn't know it but, I can't walk that good at all. I didn't know cause all I do is schlep around the apartment with no physical challenges at all. But today my mom insisted we go to the ER to get checked out, and I couldn't hardly make it up the stairs in the parking garage. They just kept going. I didn't. I walk slower than your great-grandmaw. My mom says I "have worsened greatly." Yay! Yay worsening greatly!! But the wait was too long. We were there all day. Got there at 10 and finally gave up and left around 6. For one thing they had my name wrong, and I heard them calling over and over again, "AMY MCBRIDE! AMY MCBRIDE! LAST CALL FOR AMY MCBRIDE!!! ..and there was no Amy McBride. Several hours passed and some guy noticed we had been there forever, and he goes, you don't even have an arm band yet? You were supposed to get one at registration. So we checked it out and they thought I was Amy McBride. I said no, I have no idea how you got that name. So they had to start all over again with me. People kept coming in on ambulances and that bumps you further down the list. I gave up. I am not sleeping in the waiting room. One lady said she waited once for 3 days. So I am going to go back through the system and endure the waits between appointments, and in the meantime, hope and pray I don't up and pass out any time soon. My neck is holding on by a thread. That's what it seems like. The pressure is saying, "I am going to get you."
So I also met a cute guy but as I was reaching for my pen my mom cleared her throat real loud and said no under her breath. He cooks food for the homeless people downtown. I keep meeting cooks! Things are looking up! He said he noticed me when I first came in. That tells me right there he's not too selective. I was limping and holding my head. He messed up his leg and I told him I can't date because I'm too messed up and he laughed and said he was messed up too. This gives me hope. In fact I saw a whole lot of limping guys today and thought, maybe I really should stick with other messed up people. That way I won't feel so bad. Also there was a woman there who also got lost in the system and waited too long and just belted out, "I AM ABOUT TO GO POSTAL ON THIS MOTHER F*$^&NG PLACE!!" And she stormed out. Then a crazy woman came in and started doing air guitar with her cane. I am not kidding.
But out of all these noteworthy things, the very best one is my new coffee cup. It's styrofoam but it's hillarious. It all started when my mom saw people go up to this window in a remote corner of the waiting room. She said it looked like they were getting prescriptions. That is until we saw a hand come out with popcorn in it. It's a little food thing! Built into the wall. So my mom went over and got herself some popcorn and came back with some coffee for me. I had not cracked a smile all day until I read the cup. It says: "For a tasty treat that keeps you on your feet, visit Parkland Perk!" ..meaning, the little hole in the wall thing is calling itself Parkland Perk! Like Starbucks except it's in an emergency room! It's unmarked, no signs, no nothing. So I did visit Parkland Perk but it's not keeping me on my feet. And there's also a happy bright sunshine design on it. A stark contrast to the sounds of people vomiting in the bathrooms and the cussing old people.
I need my neck fixed. It's shutting down my central headquarters. I don't know what to do or how to do it. I have trouble taking charge of myself medically. I turned it all over to my mom. I'm not ashamed to say I need help right now. I need other brains involved and I need the moral support. My mom is a real friend right now. She keeps me fed and sane and I forgot to say, she said about my new friend (he sat on the floor next to me and kept me entertained) she said, Amy he is BAD NEWS. I didn't see that in him. I feel bad now. He even wrote me a little note. I tore it up when I got home to keep my from scanning it and posting it. My whole world is a show and tell session right now. I can't help it. It helps me cope.
You know what I'm going to do? I'm going to add my blog to directories all over the world, thereby extending my verbal shenanigans globally. I'm going to spank the entire world. You can call me The Punisher.
..
Today in my prayer I told God to just deal with me, just hash me out, just do whatever He has to do to make sure there's NOTHING in between us, because when I get to heaven and stand before Him I don't want there to be any unresolved issues to deal with. I don't want to get there and He has to have a talk with me about anything or subtract any treasures or make me aware of some eternal consequences. I said, just get it over with, please deal with me completely while I'm here on the earth. Because I want to just run to You in complete joy when I see You. And also I want Jesus to be laughing when He sees me.
So after all this, when I was done praying, I was reminded of that verse in Colossians about building up in Christ. "As you therefore have received Christ Jesus the Lord, so walk in Him, having been firmly rooted and now being built up in Him and established in your faith, just as you were instructed, and overflowing with gratitude." (Col 2:6-7)
So what I'm thinking is I need to stop taking my relationship with Christ for granted "as is" and keep building, keep seeking, keep searching for a deeper knowing of Him and who He is, and spend more time with Him. I need to build some more.
So my chain reaction in my mind started thinking of a dream I had recently about Lincoln Logs. In the dream I was building, and I saw a square being constructed, one side at a time, layer after layer, slow and steady. Building up.
What are you working on? I'm working on staying alive with a smile and moving forward even though my body wants to fall backward. A little while ago I sat down and tried to draw the Lincoln Logs I dreamed of but it looked stupid. So I decided to go with the blocks and the stick people. You get the idea.
..
Last night, or was it early this morning, I had a brief dream of a man sitting in a jail cell, and Jesus was walking right outside the cell, in full view of the man. I understood that the man was in "his own prison" and Jesus was waiting for the man to come on out of it, understanding being the key. Of what a relationship with Christ is about. Real understanding. The man sat there with his head down inside the cell and said something about how it's "only exciting when..." He was rationalizing Christianity in his mind and pondering the things about it that he liked, thinking of reasons to approve and disapprove of it. And all the while there was Jesus, pacing? Right outside the cell.
So of course this has been on my mind ever since I've woken up. I prayed about it and I don't know what else to say, other than simply tell you what I saw. Everyone has to work it out on their own and seek Him on their own.
I can say this however. The man in the cell said something about "excitement". Which made me think of how some people can get easily sidetracked with all the spiritual aspects of Christianity, especially the prophetic. How some people see it as some kind of holy magic show and can't wait for the next exciting revelation or dream or word of knowledge, and the excitement and rush when it comes to pass or when it lines up with your own world. I visited a prophetic website one time and sensed that it was being used like a tarot reading, even by Christians. Some people check in for the wrong reasons. We have to remember that the gifts of the Spirit are tools to help one another out, the purpose being to edify one another and encourage one another. The gifts are tools for His people. The gifts themselves are not to be glorified. Which brings to mind a vision I had a few years ago: I saw a gorgeous colorful arrow, I held it in my hands and admired it, turning it over and over and examining it and cherishing it. I knew in my spirit that this was a reminder, that we are not to admire the tools (weapons!)- just use them. I was convicted by this vision at the time, it was when my dreams and visions were first starting to happen on a more frequent basis and I admit I was caught up in the whole excitement of it all. This is another trick of the enemy so watch out. Everything has to be kept in it's proper place. Nothing should be more important to us than our everyday walk with Christ. It's that simple. Beware of things that tickle your spiritual fancy. How did I stray from the subject? I was trying to explain my man in the jail cell dream. Actually to be honest it wasn't a dream, it was a brief vision, and not only that but it was shown to me just like a cartoon. It looked like a New Yorker cartoon, black and white, single panel, drawn sketchy and what the man was saying was shown as a caption, in quotes, at the bottom. And ya'll wonder why I am so in love with God. He is hillarious with me and He gets His points across to me in the most funny ways. He shows me pictures most of the time instead of long drawn-out speeches. He babies me. I love Him.
wait
Did any of this make sense? I don't know what else to say about it.
My uncle is in the hospital on a ventilator and they are running tests on him today to determine whether or not they should go ahead and pull the plug. He overdosed last night on his medications on purpose. He's mentally ill and he's struggled for a long time. I might get to go see him this evening.
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To be honest I really don't have anything noteworthy to say but I wanted to write something anyway. So here we go. To begin with, I saw my uncle today, he's not in a regular hospital room. It looks like a fish tank room. Completely see-through. And then just him, in a bed, right there in the middle. On display. He's a big man. His feet were hanging off the bed. He's 6"3 or 4. I walked in and said, Uncle Andy it's Amy, and his left hand rose up for me to hold it, and I did, it was cold and clammy but I held it tight in both hands and told him I loved him. They have him restrained. And he didn't know it. Until I got there. As it turns out I was the first family member to talk to him, apparently he had just come to, right before I got there. He was asking where he was and how he got there and how long he'd been there. The nurse interrupted and he snapped t her and said I DON'T NEED YOU TO INTERPRET! and he made a hissing sound at her. She left the room and he settled back down. I soothed him and told him that he was in God's care. He mumbled things that I didn't understand but I nodded and acted like I was agreeing. There was blood on his chest, the nurse said when he woke up he ripped out his central line. I didn't know what to say to him so I told him that I read all the letters he sent to my mom over the years and how entertaining they were, and what an interesting life he's had. He liked that. I said, Andy do you remember you toured Europe on your bike? And do you know you've lived in some really interesting places? He really liked all this. Then I told him how much reading those letters blessed me. I said his wisdom and insight really taught me alot. He held on to my hand tighter as I talked with him. I told him I love him, and he told me he's been worried about me. I laughed and said, I know Andy! My body's messed up too! This morning when I was praying for him a Bible verse came to mind, so I looked it up, wrote it down, memorized it. And when I was standing there next to him I said, I know how much you love God and how much you love His Word, here's one for you- and I said to him, From the rising of the sun unto the going down of the same, the Lord's Name is to be praised. And as I was saying this, he rested his head on back, closed his eyes, and I could see his lips moving and he was saying it along with me.
Andy has paranoid schizophrenia. It hit in his mid 20's after experimenting with some hashish- the real thing- in Turkey. He was on leave, he was in the Marines and was taking a vacation. They said it triggered something in his brain, something about the chemicals. But that he could have gotten it regardless because it's also a genetic thing. But the trip to Turkey set him off and he's been in and out of the VA hospitals ever since. He's a wanderer. He went to my grandmother's house to end it all, but it looks like he didn't succeed. I don't know what's going to happen with him now. I guess if he comes all the way back they'll turn him over to the VA.
Tonight I took a long walk, a slow one. I can't walk fast anymore. I'm totally ok with it all now. It's peaceful. I had a new and different frame of mind this time. It was more of a stroll, in the moonlight, and I actually stopped to pet a toad. There's toads everywhere around here and usually I just say hello and walk on by, but tonight I decided to stop for a visit. He actually let me. He just sat there, didn't even blink. His skin was bumpy and he was fat and cute with beady black eyes. How long has it been since you've stopped to pet a toad? Next time you see one, why don't you. I think they like it.
I'm losing more weight and I'm not even remotely interested in food. I'm at 114. Which is fine but the only problem is I think it's melting away for no reason. Nothing tastes good. That's why these old people nutrition drinks are so appealing to me right now. They're easy. And also bananas. I'm going through bananas like a monkey. My right hand is getting weaker and it hurts sometimes. I have a few appointments lined up, back on the conveyer belt that runs through the hospital, back to the waiting and the testing and the uncertainties. Did I mention I can hardly go up stairs? I have to hold on to the rail and actually use it. It's my right leg.
What's really a trip is the peace I have. God is really doing a number on me.
I just got a call from my daughter, she's still in Austin, and she announced to me that she is "going to start recycling." I said I knew it, I knew you'd go down there and come back a tree hugger. She's not referring to normal everyday recycling. When my kid says she's "about to start something" it never means it's going to be a passive endeavor. She says they went to Barton Springs today and there was an older lady sitting there topless, sunning herself, and I got the full description of her breasts. According to my daughter the woman had "nipples the size of Jupiter." She said there was a little boy playing nearby, and the dad was sort of bothered by the spectacle because the little boy kept staring, and the dad said, loud enough to where to woman could hear: "Son, not all of them look like that. Most of them are perky." Then another woman came and sat down by the first one and she also removed her top. The dad said, "That's it. I'm taking you to a PG movie." And they left. At least they were halfway covered. Not like the website my dad and his girlfriend were all hyped up about last time I was over there: Hippie Hollow. And guess what. They actually went there. To be voyeurs. I got the full description of the place and the types of folks that go there. I am uncomfortable with public nudity. I don't think it's a beautiful thing when it's out in the open. I don't think man parts should be swinging around for the world to see especially. Especially the men.
I just walked to the mailbox and with each step down the stairs I heard my conscience say, "I should not be pushing myself". With each step. I'm getting more and more dizzy. It's either fall or stand on the edge forever, what would you do? I might as well go ahead and fall and get it over with. As I was walking to the mailbox I had something new! Sharp jabs in my right hip. Little stabs. Like something was biting me. And my fingers and toes have sharp prickles in them. Even now as I type, it feels like I touched a cactus. I'm strangely calm this time around. Last time I panicked. I'm not going to freak out again. I'm going to just get fixed and keep it simple and just keep on. I got a letter from my grandmother. Here let me open it and I'll tell you what it says.
WOAH!!!! For starters, a $50 gift card to Whole Foods! No way! I can use that! Oh I am a happy camper!!! what she wrote in the card is boring so I'll spare you.
...
Well here we go again. No silly not with a new blog. With the hospital. Guess what. I'm a dizzy mess. More so than usual. There's a strange feeling at the back of my neck, it feels like someone has their thumbs pressing on it. I already know what it is- it's my backup health problem. As if the west nile wasn't enough. No, my body needed a backup plan to use against me. It's my bone thing. The bones in my neck are slowly pushing on my spinal cord. It was found on an MRI but I didn't give it a second thought because of the whole west nile thing. I've had a lightheaded sensation for a few weeks now but now it's all the time. I'm dizzy. If I stand up to fast I feel like I'm going to drop. I had another meltdown today and my mom said it's hospital time again. I told her I can't deal with the people who answer the phones there. She said she'll call tomorrow and bully them real good till they can see me. If you're not dying, you have to wait. I didn't want to go back there because of this. I was waiting to get my own neurologist so I wouldn't have to wait so long when I needed to be seen, but looks like that's not happening just yet. The hospital is run by medical bullies and I have trouble standing my ground with them. But that's another topic.
At least I have a new blog. Each new page is like Christmas.
My neck feels like Darth Vader is holding onto it, gently. It doesn't hurt. My mom said if the bones aren't lifted off the spinal cord it could result in paralysis! For real! And it starts in your hands. That would explain why my hands have been funky lately. So I guess the dizzy thing is good, it's to get my attention to get back and get more treatment? My mom said my body is talking to me. I never wanted to have a conversation with my body.
I need a stiff drink. And the only place I can get that currently is at my sister's house. But I don't think I can drive over there right now. My head is not right. You're not right either. Nobody is.
But guess what. I decided to be happy. Apparently there is no escape to all this. So I've decided to make the most of it. More so than usual. I rearranged my bedroom today and it looks cute. I'm going to make sure I never run out of chocolate, and I have some new ideas for some drawings. Just stay with me. That's all I ask. I don't know why I fight this blogging thing. I would have lost my mind without it.
..
Today I opened up the styrofoam ice chest that's been in the back of my closet since I moved here, it's part of what my kid refers to as my "armageddon stash". I do not stockpile. In fact I think it might backfire on us all. It occured to me that if and when something happens where people really do need to break into their stashes, that means their neighbors might be hungry, which means it wouldn't be right, and fights are going to break out and then the cops will have to get involved, then they'll probably crack down and make everybody turn their stuff in for the common good. And then you will hang your head and let out a long sigh as you realize all your time and effort was wasted. At least that's how I feel about it. I'd rather have my token 6 weeks worth of goods and then when I get low, expect a miracle. Or just go ahead and starve.
So about this ice chest. It has all my fire supplies in it. I laughed as I opened it up and examined the contents. It's all about fire. But the only problem is, I only seem to be focused on lighting it. It looks like I didn't think too far past that. I have several packs of dollar store lighters, dollar store matches, and even a thing of lighter fluid, which I don't even know how to use. And then there's my spiffy little .. what is it? All I know is, I ordered it off this survival website back in '05. That's when I got all this stuff. When I moved to that little house in Red Oak. I was terrified there. Absolutely terrified. That's when I started thinking about surviving, is when I lived there. I guess I had good reason to be thinking along those lines. I should have stocked up on bug spray though. But about my little oven thing. I don't know what it is. But it came with a long-burning candle that goes in it, and you can actually cook things on it. Like a little campstove. I think it's cute. You should have seen me each time there was a bad storm. I got my supplies out and set them on the counter, all ready. My daughter laughed at me. We also had a rat or two at that place. I had to learn to set a trap. That was horrible. I never caught any. I just gave up and started throwing things up into the attic to drive them away. Everything. Laundry soap, mothballs, pinecones, boric acid. Salt. Eucalyptus leaves. You name it. I threw it up there. It worked! The rats/mice left. I wonder what the landlord thought about it when he went up there and saw it all. I also left over a hundred gallons of water up there. Just in case. Because when the electricity went out there, the water went out too! I'm telling you, that place was scary! And did I ever mention that I found out that it used to be a crackhouse? That explains the strange people who would show up every now and then with a shifty feel to them, knocking on my door and asking if so and so was home. Why did I live there? How did this happen? Can I go back in time and not move there?
..
I don't even know where to begin on this one.
My body is breaking down, however, I strongly suspect with a quick flip of a surgeon's knife I will be made well once more. I'm thinking all I need is a few of those little bones popped off and I'll be up and running again. I'm dizzy. And my palms are numb. And I didn't know it but, I can't walk that good at all. I didn't know cause all I do is schlep around the apartment with no physical challenges at all. But today my mom insisted we go to the ER to get checked out, and I couldn't hardly make it up the stairs in the parking garage. They just kept going. I didn't. I walk slower than your great-grandmaw. My mom says I "have worsened greatly." Yay! Yay worsening greatly!! But the wait was too long. We were there all day. Got there at 10 and finally gave up and left around 6. For one thing they had my name wrong, and I heard them calling over and over again, "AMY MCBRIDE! AMY MCBRIDE! LAST CALL FOR AMY MCBRIDE!!! ..and there was no Amy McBride. Several hours passed and some guy noticed we had been there forever, and he goes, you don't even have an arm band yet? You were supposed to get one at registration. So we checked it out and they thought I was Amy McBride. I said no, I have no idea how you got that name. So they had to start all over again with me. People kept coming in on ambulances and that bumps you further down the list. I gave up. I am not sleeping in the waiting room. One lady said she waited once for 3 days. So I am going to go back through the system and endure the waits between appointments, and in the meantime, hope and pray I don't up and pass out any time soon. My neck is holding on by a thread. That's what it seems like. The pressure is saying, "I am going to get you."
So I also met a cute guy but as I was reaching for my pen my mom cleared her throat real loud and said no under her breath. He cooks food for the homeless people downtown. I keep meeting cooks! Things are looking up! He said he noticed me when I first came in. That tells me right there he's not too selective. I was limping and holding my head. He messed up his leg and I told him I can't date because I'm too messed up and he laughed and said he was messed up too. This gives me hope. In fact I saw a whole lot of limping guys today and thought, maybe I really should stick with other messed up people. That way I won't feel so bad. Also there was a woman there who also got lost in the system and waited too long and just belted out, "I AM ABOUT TO GO POSTAL ON THIS MOTHER F*$^&NG PLACE!!" And she stormed out. Then a crazy woman came in and started doing air guitar with her cane. I am not kidding.
But out of all these noteworthy things, the very best one is my new coffee cup. It's styrofoam but it's hillarious. It all started when my mom saw people go up to this window in a remote corner of the waiting room. She said it looked like they were getting prescriptions. That is until we saw a hand come out with popcorn in it. It's a little food thing! Built into the wall. So my mom went over and got herself some popcorn and came back with some coffee for me. I had not cracked a smile all day until I read the cup. It says: "For a tasty treat that keeps you on your feet, visit Parkland Perk!" ..meaning, the little hole in the wall thing is calling itself Parkland Perk! Like Starbucks except it's in an emergency room! It's unmarked, no signs, no nothing. So I did visit Parkland Perk but it's not keeping me on my feet. And there's also a happy bright sunshine design on it. A stark contrast to the sounds of people vomiting in the bathrooms and the cussing old people.
I need my neck fixed. It's shutting down my central headquarters. I don't know what to do or how to do it. I have trouble taking charge of myself medically. I turned it all over to my mom. I'm not ashamed to say I need help right now. I need other brains involved and I need the moral support. My mom is a real friend right now. She keeps me fed and sane and I forgot to say, she said about my new friend (he sat on the floor next to me and kept me entertained) she said, Amy he is BAD NEWS. I didn't see that in him. I feel bad now. He even wrote me a little note. I tore it up when I got home to keep my from scanning it and posting it. My whole world is a show and tell session right now. I can't help it. It helps me cope.
You know what I'm going to do? I'm going to add my blog to directories all over the world, thereby extending my verbal shenanigans globally. I'm going to spank the entire world. You can call me The Punisher.
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Today in my prayer I told God to just deal with me, just hash me out, just do whatever He has to do to make sure there's NOTHING in between us, because when I get to heaven and stand before Him I don't want there to be any unresolved issues to deal with. I don't want to get there and He has to have a talk with me about anything or subtract any treasures or make me aware of some eternal consequences. I said, just get it over with, please deal with me completely while I'm here on the earth. Because I want to just run to You in complete joy when I see You. And also I want Jesus to be laughing when He sees me.
So after all this, when I was done praying, I was reminded of that verse in Colossians about building up in Christ. "As you therefore have received Christ Jesus the Lord, so walk in Him, having been firmly rooted and now being built up in Him and established in your faith, just as you were instructed, and overflowing with gratitude." (Col 2:6-7)
So what I'm thinking is I need to stop taking my relationship with Christ for granted "as is" and keep building, keep seeking, keep searching for a deeper knowing of Him and who He is, and spend more time with Him. I need to build some more.
So my chain reaction in my mind started thinking of a dream I had recently about Lincoln Logs. In the dream I was building, and I saw a square being constructed, one side at a time, layer after layer, slow and steady. Building up.
What are you working on? I'm working on staying alive with a smile and moving forward even though my body wants to fall backward. A little while ago I sat down and tried to draw the Lincoln Logs I dreamed of but it looked stupid. So I decided to go with the blocks and the stick people. You get the idea.
..
Last night, or was it early this morning, I had a brief dream of a man sitting in a jail cell, and Jesus was walking right outside the cell, in full view of the man. I understood that the man was in "his own prison" and Jesus was waiting for the man to come on out of it, understanding being the key. Of what a relationship with Christ is about. Real understanding. The man sat there with his head down inside the cell and said something about how it's "only exciting when..." He was rationalizing Christianity in his mind and pondering the things about it that he liked, thinking of reasons to approve and disapprove of it. And all the while there was Jesus, pacing? Right outside the cell.
So of course this has been on my mind ever since I've woken up. I prayed about it and I don't know what else to say, other than simply tell you what I saw. Everyone has to work it out on their own and seek Him on their own.
I can say this however. The man in the cell said something about "excitement". Which made me think of how some people can get easily sidetracked with all the spiritual aspects of Christianity, especially the prophetic. How some people see it as some kind of holy magic show and can't wait for the next exciting revelation or dream or word of knowledge, and the excitement and rush when it comes to pass or when it lines up with your own world. I visited a prophetic website one time and sensed that it was being used like a tarot reading, even by Christians. Some people check in for the wrong reasons. We have to remember that the gifts of the Spirit are tools to help one another out, the purpose being to edify one another and encourage one another. The gifts are tools for His people. The gifts themselves are not to be glorified. Which brings to mind a vision I had a few years ago: I saw a gorgeous colorful arrow, I held it in my hands and admired it, turning it over and over and examining it and cherishing it. I knew in my spirit that this was a reminder, that we are not to admire the tools (weapons!)- just use them. I was convicted by this vision at the time, it was when my dreams and visions were first starting to happen on a more frequent basis and I admit I was caught up in the whole excitement of it all. This is another trick of the enemy so watch out. Everything has to be kept in it's proper place. Nothing should be more important to us than our everyday walk with Christ. It's that simple. Beware of things that tickle your spiritual fancy. How did I stray from the subject? I was trying to explain my man in the jail cell dream. Actually to be honest it wasn't a dream, it was a brief vision, and not only that but it was shown to me just like a cartoon. It looked like a New Yorker cartoon, black and white, single panel, drawn sketchy and what the man was saying was shown as a caption, in quotes, at the bottom. And ya'll wonder why I am so in love with God. He is hillarious with me and He gets His points across to me in the most funny ways. He shows me pictures most of the time instead of long drawn-out speeches. He babies me. I love Him.
wait
Did any of this make sense? I don't know what else to say about it.
My uncle is in the hospital on a ventilator and they are running tests on him today to determine whether or not they should go ahead and pull the plug. He overdosed last night on his medications on purpose. He's mentally ill and he's struggled for a long time. I might get to go see him this evening.
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To be honest I really don't have anything noteworthy to say but I wanted to write something anyway. So here we go. To begin with, I saw my uncle today, he's not in a regular hospital room. It looks like a fish tank room. Completely see-through. And then just him, in a bed, right there in the middle. On display. He's a big man. His feet were hanging off the bed. He's 6"3 or 4. I walked in and said, Uncle Andy it's Amy, and his left hand rose up for me to hold it, and I did, it was cold and clammy but I held it tight in both hands and told him I loved him. They have him restrained. And he didn't know it. Until I got there. As it turns out I was the first family member to talk to him, apparently he had just come to, right before I got there. He was asking where he was and how he got there and how long he'd been there. The nurse interrupted and he snapped t her and said I DON'T NEED YOU TO INTERPRET! and he made a hissing sound at her. She left the room and he settled back down. I soothed him and told him that he was in God's care. He mumbled things that I didn't understand but I nodded and acted like I was agreeing. There was blood on his chest, the nurse said when he woke up he ripped out his central line. I didn't know what to say to him so I told him that I read all the letters he sent to my mom over the years and how entertaining they were, and what an interesting life he's had. He liked that. I said, Andy do you remember you toured Europe on your bike? And do you know you've lived in some really interesting places? He really liked all this. Then I told him how much reading those letters blessed me. I said his wisdom and insight really taught me alot. He held on to my hand tighter as I talked with him. I told him I love him, and he told me he's been worried about me. I laughed and said, I know Andy! My body's messed up too! This morning when I was praying for him a Bible verse came to mind, so I looked it up, wrote it down, memorized it. And when I was standing there next to him I said, I know how much you love God and how much you love His Word, here's one for you- and I said to him, From the rising of the sun unto the going down of the same, the Lord's Name is to be praised. And as I was saying this, he rested his head on back, closed his eyes, and I could see his lips moving and he was saying it along with me.
Andy has paranoid schizophrenia. It hit in his mid 20's after experimenting with some hashish- the real thing- in Turkey. He was on leave, he was in the Marines and was taking a vacation. They said it triggered something in his brain, something about the chemicals. But that he could have gotten it regardless because it's also a genetic thing. But the trip to Turkey set him off and he's been in and out of the VA hospitals ever since. He's a wanderer. He went to my grandmother's house to end it all, but it looks like he didn't succeed. I don't know what's going to happen with him now. I guess if he comes all the way back they'll turn him over to the VA.
Tonight I took a long walk, a slow one. I can't walk fast anymore. I'm totally ok with it all now. It's peaceful. I had a new and different frame of mind this time. It was more of a stroll, in the moonlight, and I actually stopped to pet a toad. There's toads everywhere around here and usually I just say hello and walk on by, but tonight I decided to stop for a visit. He actually let me. He just sat there, didn't even blink. His skin was bumpy and he was fat and cute with beady black eyes. How long has it been since you've stopped to pet a toad? Next time you see one, why don't you. I think they like it.
I'm losing more weight and I'm not even remotely interested in food. I'm at 114. Which is fine but the only problem is I think it's melting away for no reason. Nothing tastes good. That's why these old people nutrition drinks are so appealing to me right now. They're easy. And also bananas. I'm going through bananas like a monkey. My right hand is getting weaker and it hurts sometimes. I have a few appointments lined up, back on the conveyer belt that runs through the hospital, back to the waiting and the testing and the uncertainties. Did I mention I can hardly go up stairs? I have to hold on to the rail and actually use it. It's my right leg.
What's really a trip is the peace I have. God is really doing a number on me.
...
(february 09)
It happened. She went and did exactly the thing I told her not to do: turn 18. Yet she did it anyway. My daughter. I told her I was going to ground her for this, but she laughed and said she's already grounded. (She and her friend decided to go to Austin a couple weeks ago, sans parental permission.)
This morning I awoke with the bittersweet knowings in my soul of doors closing and new ones opening. I feel sadness and loss, I feel tears welling up as I type. But I also am running over with such joy and relief. I'm nothing short of an Accomplished Woman. I did it. Don't ask what. Just know, I did it.
I made her a pillow for her birthday. It was going to be a quilt, but instead, it's a big decorative throw pillow for her bed. I've been saving her favorite little shirts and dresses and sleepers ever since she was a baby so that when she turned 18, I'd make a quilt out of them. Over the years as she'd outgrow something, and if it was something colorful and cute and full of warm memories, I'd stuff it in the special bag, usually cutting a fabric square out of it first and tossing the rest. The bag has become fat and full over the years and I've lugged it with me everywhere I go. I never open it. But I had to a few months ago. I opened it up and dumped it out and found myself surrounded by a sea of warm memories of hugs, cuddling, laughing, reading books, stroller rides and playgrounds. It wasn't exactly easy to sew these patches together and create the finished product, but I did it. I've been working on it for the past few weeks. It's the craziest pillow you've ever seen, complete with big hot pink strings of fringe coming off each side. She's going to open it and laugh.
I did other things, too. I've done alot over the past couple of months.
I stood back up on my feet. I got a job, doing what I know how to do well- I'm back to talking customer's heads off about vitamins. I found an affordable apartment and I'm making plans to move very soon. I wrapped up my Season of "Purging". Purging. A good word, is it not? An old friend referred to it as that recently. I never looked at it this way. I viewed it as giving, sharing. But purging is quite accurate, although a little rough sounding.
Speaking of this old "friend". The tears that wait to be acknowledged in my heart this morning are also there because of him. I feel a certain sadness as I become more and more aware of how different my life has become, how unconnected I really am, how the ties that once held me close to certain people have now become frayed, untangled, and have come loose. I used to think it was just me. Now I realize, that's just life. I blame my hermithood but in all honesty, I've chosen to live the way I do.
I had this vision a few nights ago: A river, with three distinct "paths" lying flat upon the surface of the water, these paths appeared to be tire tracks, muddy. The paths ran parallel, a wide one in the middle and two slimmer ones on each side. Three paths, three tracks, three lives. They were in the river, going in the same direction. Above the river was a small golden bridge, it arched up and over, connecting the two river banks. I saw the three paths running one way, and the bridge going another way. I knew in my spirit, the bridge was part of my own path.
I stand on the side of this river now. I stand and watch the water flowing, I see these three lives going their own way. Where will they go? What will they do? Where will the flow of life take them? My tears are coming up now as I type. I know I must say goodbye to these three. I know the truth now, none of the three were mine for romance and love, yet it was the hope that kept my selfish female heart connected. The simple truth is, I was called to minister to these three, to wake them up, to speak truth. What a test this has been. I fell for each one.
One was my first love, perhaps the only man I have ever known "true love" with. It was powerful and real, but too strong at the time for me. The second was much younger than me, yet made my heart laugh with joy and made me feel free and fun. The third was the vessel that was used to cripple me and infect my mind during the past year, the most ingenius weapon that has ever come against me in the form of another human being.
Speaking to these three is how this all started, and not by choice. It just started to happen, beginning in '04. My heart was burdened for each one, dreams and visions were shown to me about them, and this, combined with feelings on and off, created a real confusion festival in my head and in my heart. I've been dancing with three men, yet none took the time to take my hand gently. I suppose the river is a good place for them to end up.
Pride. Self. All three struggle with these things. Do any of them realize that my personal writings speak of their own issues as well? Can any of these men take a look in the mirror and see, what I have shared with everyone are lessons for them as well? I spoke of my pain, my mistakes, lessons learned the hard way. I told them of how hard God dealt with me regarding pride and vanity. Can they open their eyes and see that I was struck down as a result of not yeilding these things to Him? Can they see, their lives are very much like my own?
I opened my life to show what I lived and what I learned. And now I stand, rejected romantically by the ones who wanted me, back before they understood what I was really all about, on the inside. I held out for this. I have been tested, and so I test in return. None have passed my own test so far. Not one man has swallowed his pride with me. Look at what pride does to you. Look at the lost opportunities it brings. Look at the roadblocks it creates. It all goes back to pride. Listen to me now. Humble yourself and deal with this sin before God does it for you.
I stand and feel the loss of these three possibilites, but I have learned so much. I now look at the bridge. I can't see where it leads. I can't see what's on the other side. But it's my own path to walk and I step on that bridge with a smile. I say goodbye to the river that washed me, goodbye to the memories that propelled me, goodbye to the men who taunted me. I loved you all, but my love can never be enough. May the strong current of the river lead you to a better place in life, a better way, a better day.
A vision comes to mind, several months ago: jello on my kitchen counter, all set up, and a handful of strawberries being tossed upon it, but bouncing off. It was too late to add fruit. The jello was already "set up."
Goodbye, boys. You rejected my fruit, but I laugh as the river carries you away.
Not saying it was a set-up or anything.
~*~
Another vision just a few days ago: a small drinking glass, clean and clear, yet filled with lots and lots of cigarettes, all crammed in there. Each cigarette appeared to have already been smoked, but they were still almost full length. As if someone just lit one, took one or two puffs (I don't know smoking terminology.. drags?) and then put it out. Not only that, but the end of each one had alot of that smokey gray ash hanging off of it, like it was really burned out. The glass was filled with these.
I'm being shown what my cup has been filled with, all of these years- burned-out relationships, not even finished, and barely started. Cigarettes are not good for you, just as none of the men I have been "sampling" have been, for me at least. I don't even smoke. What are these burned out things doing in my cup?
The enemy has tried to fill my cup with so many "failures" that I might be burned out and jaded regarding men, relationships, and love. That I might believe the lie that I've tasted so many, and only come up empty-handed, it's pointless. That all men and all relationships are bad. I have been subconsciously carrying this lie around with me for many years. That love goes nowhere, that relationships burn out fast, that the bad boys are the only ones I know how to taste.
I'm realizing, these negative and false things do not belong in my cup. I was not meant to spend my years searching for love and being hurt, and hurting others. I was not meant to experience so many dead-end relationships. I was not meant to lie down in a man's bed in hopes of something meaningful evolving. I have, up until 2004, been living like an unpaid prostitute, giving myself away for free.
I take this cup and hold it in front of me. I examine the ruins of my heart. I gaze upon each burned out option, each dead end. I don't empty the glass into the river, no, the river is already doing it's cleansing work. I think I will take this glass and bury the contents somewhere. But the glass I will take along with me, as I walk across that bridge.
I'm curious to see what exactly God wants to fill it with.
~*~
In 1990, when I was pregnant with my daughter, I had a very powerful and vivid dream: I was standing in an airport, waiting to board a flight. I was standing in line and there was lots of tension in the air, I was filled with apprehension. I carried a baby girl on my hip, we were getting ready to board a flight, a journey.
In '03 I had another dream along those lines, except this time, I was alone. Right around that time, my daughter went to live with her dad for a while. I knew I was beginning a new journey, a new path, one that would be deeper and more difficult.
Just a few months ago I dreamed of being in a small plane, I was the only passenger, and the pilot was my dad (my "Father"). He said, "Are you ready to come in for a landing?"
I am ready, Daddy. I am ready. Thank you Father for this incredible journey You have taken me on. Thank you for every trial and tribulation You've allowed me to experience. Thank you for the lessons You've taught me. Thanks for the peace I now have in my head and in my heart. Thank You for allowing sickness, and bringing healing. Thank you for showing me the painful things I didn't want to face. Thank you for the hope You've given me. Thank You for the promises You've given me. I believe You, Dad. I trust You. I know that all I need to do at this point in time is take my empty cup and cross that bridge.
~*~
I have seen glimpses of my future. I have looked into the eyes of my son. He has laughing, smiling eyes. The vision of him remains in my mind, yet I have been so quick to forget his appearance when I have tried so hard to make the puzzle pieces fit together. By that I mean, I think of a man I might know, or am attracted to, and I forget that my son looks nothing like him. Oh stop shaking your head at me. I'm not crazy. You just haven't gotten fully on my page yet. Get in my book, ok?
He looks nothing like any of my former "top-3". There is only one man that I know that he resembles. This just occurred to me last night. I was going through my head, trying to think of anyone I might know, that could possibly physically match up with the vision I had. There is only one man, and he's someone I've never been in a relationship with, but I do know him. He's a little bit older than me. I had a raging terrible crush on him from 2000 to 2003, but circumstances prevented me from ever expressing it. Maturely, at least. He's the only one that I know that looks very much like the vision that was shown me, not only facial features but also body type and even personality. I sensed my son, I sensed his being. I felt his laughter. I saw him viewing me and laughing at me. I felt his love.
The thing is, I've always known that I'd end up with someone I already know. That's why I've made the mistake so many times of assuming it's such and such. I've been acting like some kind of detective when really I should be enjoying my life. I want to be a normal woman so very badly. I want to learn to handle the things God shows me, yet still enjoy things normally. How? I guess I'll just have to figure it out.
Look at me. Talking about needing to stop trying to solve puzzles, and at the same time, saying who I think my future son looks like. Look at me! Do you agree that it's a good thing that I'm stopping all this blogging? I am, by the way. I am. I already did, in fact. I'm no longer on the computer. I just wanted to do this one today. I woke up with this full head and I need to spill it out.
~*~
Last night at work I met a man from India with a very fluffy beard. And he looks around my age, he's not even old. His beard is puffier than Santa's. I was fascinated. He was speaking softly about vitamins yet all I could do was gaze at his beard. I didn't even answer his vitamin questions. Instead, I told him that his beard was very puffy. He smiled and touched it and told me all about it. He uses vitamin E soap on it. He said if he didn't trim it, it would grow extremely long. I told him he reminded me of Cat Stevens. He didn't know who he was! So I had to tell him all about him. He said he'd go home and look him up, then next time he's in the store, he'd tell me of some good music I can check out. I made a new friend. I love this job. I don't see it as several different jobs, no, it's all one long vitamin selling job, just at different stores. So I can say, I've been doing the same thing since '99. That's when I got my very first job in a health food store, making smoothies. I'm on my 7th store now. I think I've found Vitamin Nirvana. It's the best one so far.
Something I really like about it is one of my co-workers, he's only 20, and that means FUN. We invented a new concept the other night: Alternate Reality Vitamin Store. It's where you go and buy things like Tapeworm Eggs instead of colon cleansers, Arsenic Concentrate Drops instead of ionic minerals, and Cow Pattie Dainty Soap instead of herbal cleansers. The list goes on and on. I love my new job.
...
freedom is never free
I saw that somewhere when I was a teenager, in a book maybe, and I tore it out, "laminated" it in scotch tape, and affixed it to the inside cover of my jewelry box. Freedom is Never Free. I was fascinated with the phrase. Freedom. What was it? Why do wars break out over it? Why is it what's taken away from a prisoner, as punishment? What is this concept that is so important to us? I knew, even as a teen, it somehow went much deeper than physical freedom, like the right to vote, freedom of speech, etc etc. So when I saw that, according to this quote, that it was never free... I began to wonder, so then, at what cost? And where do you go to buy it?
"There are so many to set free" is what I heard in my spirit in '05, as God showed me a vision of rows and rows of people behind bars, arms outstretched , hands waving, begging to be released. I had been praying for the people in my neighborhood at the time. From all outward appearances these people were not imprisoned in any way, no, they were the most relaxed folks I'd ever seen, without a care in the world it seemed, spending time on their front porches of their dilapadated homes. The kids romped in the street and played. The women had huge potbellies that rivaled the men. The men sat and drank beer and watched life go by, from the vantage point of the porch. I loved it there.
Why did God show me that these people were imprisoned? From all outward appearances, they were free as could be. Chew on that for a minute why dontcha.
When all this started, God said, "Tell them who you are", and I just went blank. I had no idea.
All of this expression has helped me to answer my own question as to who I am. This strange journey began with a dream in the fall of '06, while the seizures were going on, but I was too afraid to tell anyone. I dreamed of walking alone on a road, and the wind started to blow. It blew with such force that I could no longer move forward, and I was blown to the side of the road. I even saw a car blown off to the side as well, showing me how strong the wind was. As I stood on the side of the road, I was given an electronic device, it looked like a waffle iron, but it was something to communicate with. I held it in my right hand and was told that with this device, I would tell others "where I've been, and where I'm going." I carried this thing and began walking on the side of the road, and a path opened up through the tall grass. I saw that the path before me ran parallel to the big road, yet I was protected on each side with tall grass, almost like a cornfield. It was a safer path to walk.
The electronic communication device, of course, turned out to be this laptop that my mother insisted I bond with during the past two years, while I recovered. The fact that it appeared to be a waffle iron goes along with something God told me, that this time would "iron out my waffling." Indecision, changing my mind, being unsure of so many things. I can say that now, my waffling is all ironed out. I know who I am, and I know what I want, and what I don't want. I am unafraid to speak out.
Spiritually, I am a prophetess. I can say that now. Others have said it for me, but now, I can nod in agreement with no shame or self-consciousness. I am unafraid of my gift and I am learning to manage it with more grace, maturity, and joy.
Physically, I'm so proud of my healing that I could burst. I laugh at what happened and I laugh at what God has done with me during this time. It's surreal. Only me. Only in my life would this happen. I'm not even 40 yet. What next?
Mentally, I need help. Currently, Acetyl L-Carnitine is my best friend, twice a day, and good old tea, all the time. And lots of sleep.
Emotionally, I enjoy being the woman God created me to be. I am sensitive. I stress easily. I like guys. Ok I love guys. I have nothing left to hide and nothing to apologize for. My weaknesses balance out my strengths. I'm the perfect chick for the perfect man, wherever he may be. I desire a strong hand to hold, I yearn for comforting arms around me. But I will never play games again or try to fit myself into anyone else's standards. Freedom is the name of the game. We all have the right to be free, not only in your physical world, but in your friendships and relationships as well. To me, freedom is key. In all that I do on this planet from here on out, FREEDOM will be there. Oppression, condemnation, and accusation will not be a part of my life, and people who operate in these things will have nothing to do with me.
I am hated for my strengths, did you know that? Many men have loved me on the outside, yet hated once they discovered what's on the inside. Boys, I am now inside-out. There are no secrets. I have created the most ingenius filter ever. Each new man I meet will be promptly directed to my online creations. No more up-all-night explaining festivals, any more. By that I mean, I have talked so many guy's heads off over the years in futile attempts to show them what my head is really all about, but I only ended up confusing them.
I'm growing my hair long again.
I'm wearing a smile.
View my beauty, inside and out, and weep.
Punks.
~*~
I was going to create a new spot to stick my blogs, other than Worm Island. I was thinking Butterfly House, or Maison de Papillon would be the next place, but in my story, that represents heaven. I can't be blogging from heaven. So Worm Island, the place where men die unto themselves, is where I will leave this.
I leave this strange virtual world now, with a huge sigh of relief. I did it.
For years I was always on the verge of an emotional breakdown, barely able to contain all that was inside of me, good and bad. The pain, the grief, the overwhelming pain of the loss of my brother. The loss of my role as a mother, or so I perceived it, when my daughter would live with her dad. The frustrations of being used, again and again, in search of finding love. The frightening dreams and visions that began to flood my mind as God began to reveal Himself to me, and then watching them come to pass, one by one, scaring the living daylights out of me, and sometimes out of the folks they had to do with, and the suspicious looks that followed. The uphill battle that has been the norm for me as a single woman, on my own since 1997, refusing any form of help from anyone, including my family, until I was forced to rest, after getting the brain infection. For years I have been a walking time bomb. No more.
I plumb exploded.
I am enjoying my life once more. I go to work and have a clear mind, for the first time ever. I no longer feel the need to talk about personal matters with people. I feel more capable of helping others, rather than needing help. I enjoy listening more than speaking. My nerves are healing, I no longer feel as if I could cry when the wind blows. I am free.
If I could leave you with one thing, I would say, HUMBLE YOURSELF.
That, or toy around with pride a little longer. Who knows, maybe God will grant you a nice long season of cleansing, like He gave me. The only thing is, that soap sort of hurts. You can do it the hard way, like I did. Or you can simply listen to me.
Give yourself to Christ. Turn yourself in. Surrender.
Don't make me get in my
(I still don't have a car so I'll have to get back with you on that one)
...
(april 09)
The other day I dreamed this: I was slowly climbing a steep staircase, it appeared to be outside and it was carved out of stone, it was covered in mud and it was scary. It was steep and scary, and each new step to take was impossible for me, until I actually lifted my right leg to take a step, that's when a big strong arm would come down and grab hold of my hand and pull me up so I could get on the next step. I'd stand there, look at the mud, all blocked and overwhelmed, then attempt to step up and right then the help would come. This happened over and over again. I looked behind me and saw lots of people climbing the same stairs. I noticed each time the hand would lift me up and help me to the next step, I'd come down with such force on the new step that I left heavy indentions in the mud, footprints, and I turned and saw that the people behind me were stepping where I stepped, their climb was made easier because of my footprints in the mud. I made it all the way to the top and realized I had been climbing a mountain, there was no more mud on top, I was dizzy and I said, "that was so hard!" And I saw who had been lifting me, it was Jesus. He laughed at me and said, "I know!" And I understood that He had been with me all along. I woke up and cried and felt reassured that there is purpose to my difficulties, that other people are/will be helped because of it. And that's maybe why I can laugh, because I can't give any advice in any area of life except the spiritual.
Oh and I should say again, the hand didn't come down and lift me up until I'd lift my leg to take the step. Even though I knew I couldn't do it. I still tried.
..
(may 09)
...did I ever mention one of the very first visions I had after the brain infection? Or, rather, while it was going on. Like maybe the first month I was out at my mom's, barely off the depakote, staring into space and wondering what on earth was happening. I saw this~ a beautiful fig tree, laden with HUGE golden ripe fat juicy figs, they were so ripe and ready they were making the branches droop. Then a strong wind came to shake the tree and I knew all the figs were about to be blown right off. The location of the fig tree in the vision was right outside my mom's apartment, in the corner of the building, protected. Only one side was exposed to the strong wind. Well trees don't have sides but you know what I mean. The fig tree was about to be blown but it was safe at the same time. God was showing me what He was about to do with me. Did you like my fruit? Did any of it fall on your head? I hope so.
...
(june 09)
It's really been on my mind and bothering me. I just don't see how it will ever work. The scary restaurant dream. Sorry if you don't know what I mean. That's too bad. I'm tired of this.
Look. I've been thinking, and I'm realizing, all this I've been doing IS like a restaurant already. It's always there, open 24/7, and I'm inside. Not for real, but even better than real. The best of me is inside all this. That's more than you'd ever get out of me in real life.
None of this means much now. But let it ferment, let it float. Times are changing. Things that are seemingly totally uncool now might be suddenly more appealing when
Just know that I created more than cookies. I made a feast. It's all I had to give. And I had to do it when I did, because time is short.
My life is changing, there's a turn up ahead on my road. Good things are happening. The landscape is changing, fresh air is coming in. I'm moving on and I really don't want to take any of this with me. I thought I was going to, but I changed my mind.
Love, A.
(that's not to say I'm quitting my Secret Operative position. Just the writing & video making.)
It happened. She went and did exactly the thing I told her not to do: turn 18. Yet she did it anyway. My daughter. I told her I was going to ground her for this, but she laughed and said she's already grounded. (She and her friend decided to go to Austin a couple weeks ago, sans parental permission.)
This morning I awoke with the bittersweet knowings in my soul of doors closing and new ones opening. I feel sadness and loss, I feel tears welling up as I type. But I also am running over with such joy and relief. I'm nothing short of an Accomplished Woman. I did it. Don't ask what. Just know, I did it.
I made her a pillow for her birthday. It was going to be a quilt, but instead, it's a big decorative throw pillow for her bed. I've been saving her favorite little shirts and dresses and sleepers ever since she was a baby so that when she turned 18, I'd make a quilt out of them. Over the years as she'd outgrow something, and if it was something colorful and cute and full of warm memories, I'd stuff it in the special bag, usually cutting a fabric square out of it first and tossing the rest. The bag has become fat and full over the years and I've lugged it with me everywhere I go. I never open it. But I had to a few months ago. I opened it up and dumped it out and found myself surrounded by a sea of warm memories of hugs, cuddling, laughing, reading books, stroller rides and playgrounds. It wasn't exactly easy to sew these patches together and create the finished product, but I did it. I've been working on it for the past few weeks. It's the craziest pillow you've ever seen, complete with big hot pink strings of fringe coming off each side. She's going to open it and laugh.
I did other things, too. I've done alot over the past couple of months.
I stood back up on my feet. I got a job, doing what I know how to do well- I'm back to talking customer's heads off about vitamins. I found an affordable apartment and I'm making plans to move very soon. I wrapped up my Season of "Purging". Purging. A good word, is it not? An old friend referred to it as that recently. I never looked at it this way. I viewed it as giving, sharing. But purging is quite accurate, although a little rough sounding.
Speaking of this old "friend". The tears that wait to be acknowledged in my heart this morning are also there because of him. I feel a certain sadness as I become more and more aware of how different my life has become, how unconnected I really am, how the ties that once held me close to certain people have now become frayed, untangled, and have come loose. I used to think it was just me. Now I realize, that's just life. I blame my hermithood but in all honesty, I've chosen to live the way I do.
I had this vision a few nights ago: A river, with three distinct "paths" lying flat upon the surface of the water, these paths appeared to be tire tracks, muddy. The paths ran parallel, a wide one in the middle and two slimmer ones on each side. Three paths, three tracks, three lives. They were in the river, going in the same direction. Above the river was a small golden bridge, it arched up and over, connecting the two river banks. I saw the three paths running one way, and the bridge going another way. I knew in my spirit, the bridge was part of my own path.
I stand on the side of this river now. I stand and watch the water flowing, I see these three lives going their own way. Where will they go? What will they do? Where will the flow of life take them? My tears are coming up now as I type. I know I must say goodbye to these three. I know the truth now, none of the three were mine for romance and love, yet it was the hope that kept my selfish female heart connected. The simple truth is, I was called to minister to these three, to wake them up, to speak truth. What a test this has been. I fell for each one.
One was my first love, perhaps the only man I have ever known "true love" with. It was powerful and real, but too strong at the time for me. The second was much younger than me, yet made my heart laugh with joy and made me feel free and fun. The third was the vessel that was used to cripple me and infect my mind during the past year, the most ingenius weapon that has ever come against me in the form of another human being.
Speaking to these three is how this all started, and not by choice. It just started to happen, beginning in '04. My heart was burdened for each one, dreams and visions were shown to me about them, and this, combined with feelings on and off, created a real confusion festival in my head and in my heart. I've been dancing with three men, yet none took the time to take my hand gently. I suppose the river is a good place for them to end up.
Pride. Self. All three struggle with these things. Do any of them realize that my personal writings speak of their own issues as well? Can any of these men take a look in the mirror and see, what I have shared with everyone are lessons for them as well? I spoke of my pain, my mistakes, lessons learned the hard way. I told them of how hard God dealt with me regarding pride and vanity. Can they open their eyes and see that I was struck down as a result of not yeilding these things to Him? Can they see, their lives are very much like my own?
I opened my life to show what I lived and what I learned. And now I stand, rejected romantically by the ones who wanted me, back before they understood what I was really all about, on the inside. I held out for this. I have been tested, and so I test in return. None have passed my own test so far. Not one man has swallowed his pride with me. Look at what pride does to you. Look at the lost opportunities it brings. Look at the roadblocks it creates. It all goes back to pride. Listen to me now. Humble yourself and deal with this sin before God does it for you.
I stand and feel the loss of these three possibilites, but I have learned so much. I now look at the bridge. I can't see where it leads. I can't see what's on the other side. But it's my own path to walk and I step on that bridge with a smile. I say goodbye to the river that washed me, goodbye to the memories that propelled me, goodbye to the men who taunted me. I loved you all, but my love can never be enough. May the strong current of the river lead you to a better place in life, a better way, a better day.
A vision comes to mind, several months ago: jello on my kitchen counter, all set up, and a handful of strawberries being tossed upon it, but bouncing off. It was too late to add fruit. The jello was already "set up."
Goodbye, boys. You rejected my fruit, but I laugh as the river carries you away.
Not saying it was a set-up or anything.
~*~
Another vision just a few days ago: a small drinking glass, clean and clear, yet filled with lots and lots of cigarettes, all crammed in there. Each cigarette appeared to have already been smoked, but they were still almost full length. As if someone just lit one, took one or two puffs (I don't know smoking terminology.. drags?) and then put it out. Not only that, but the end of each one had alot of that smokey gray ash hanging off of it, like it was really burned out. The glass was filled with these.
I'm being shown what my cup has been filled with, all of these years- burned-out relationships, not even finished, and barely started. Cigarettes are not good for you, just as none of the men I have been "sampling" have been, for me at least. I don't even smoke. What are these burned out things doing in my cup?
The enemy has tried to fill my cup with so many "failures" that I might be burned out and jaded regarding men, relationships, and love. That I might believe the lie that I've tasted so many, and only come up empty-handed, it's pointless. That all men and all relationships are bad. I have been subconsciously carrying this lie around with me for many years. That love goes nowhere, that relationships burn out fast, that the bad boys are the only ones I know how to taste.
I'm realizing, these negative and false things do not belong in my cup. I was not meant to spend my years searching for love and being hurt, and hurting others. I was not meant to experience so many dead-end relationships. I was not meant to lie down in a man's bed in hopes of something meaningful evolving. I have, up until 2004, been living like an unpaid prostitute, giving myself away for free.
I take this cup and hold it in front of me. I examine the ruins of my heart. I gaze upon each burned out option, each dead end. I don't empty the glass into the river, no, the river is already doing it's cleansing work. I think I will take this glass and bury the contents somewhere. But the glass I will take along with me, as I walk across that bridge.
I'm curious to see what exactly God wants to fill it with.
~*~
In 1990, when I was pregnant with my daughter, I had a very powerful and vivid dream: I was standing in an airport, waiting to board a flight. I was standing in line and there was lots of tension in the air, I was filled with apprehension. I carried a baby girl on my hip, we were getting ready to board a flight, a journey.
In '03 I had another dream along those lines, except this time, I was alone. Right around that time, my daughter went to live with her dad for a while. I knew I was beginning a new journey, a new path, one that would be deeper and more difficult.
Just a few months ago I dreamed of being in a small plane, I was the only passenger, and the pilot was my dad (my "Father"). He said, "Are you ready to come in for a landing?"
I am ready, Daddy. I am ready. Thank you Father for this incredible journey You have taken me on. Thank you for every trial and tribulation You've allowed me to experience. Thank you for the lessons You've taught me. Thanks for the peace I now have in my head and in my heart. Thank You for allowing sickness, and bringing healing. Thank you for showing me the painful things I didn't want to face. Thank you for the hope You've given me. Thank You for the promises You've given me. I believe You, Dad. I trust You. I know that all I need to do at this point in time is take my empty cup and cross that bridge.
~*~
I have seen glimpses of my future. I have looked into the eyes of my son. He has laughing, smiling eyes. The vision of him remains in my mind, yet I have been so quick to forget his appearance when I have tried so hard to make the puzzle pieces fit together. By that I mean, I think of a man I might know, or am attracted to, and I forget that my son looks nothing like him. Oh stop shaking your head at me. I'm not crazy. You just haven't gotten fully on my page yet. Get in my book, ok?
He looks nothing like any of my former "top-3". There is only one man that I know that he resembles. This just occurred to me last night. I was going through my head, trying to think of anyone I might know, that could possibly physically match up with the vision I had. There is only one man, and he's someone I've never been in a relationship with, but I do know him. He's a little bit older than me. I had a raging terrible crush on him from 2000 to 2003, but circumstances prevented me from ever expressing it. Maturely, at least. He's the only one that I know that looks very much like the vision that was shown me, not only facial features but also body type and even personality. I sensed my son, I sensed his being. I felt his laughter. I saw him viewing me and laughing at me. I felt his love.
The thing is, I've always known that I'd end up with someone I already know. That's why I've made the mistake so many times of assuming it's such and such. I've been acting like some kind of detective when really I should be enjoying my life. I want to be a normal woman so very badly. I want to learn to handle the things God shows me, yet still enjoy things normally. How? I guess I'll just have to figure it out.
Look at me. Talking about needing to stop trying to solve puzzles, and at the same time, saying who I think my future son looks like. Look at me! Do you agree that it's a good thing that I'm stopping all this blogging? I am, by the way. I am. I already did, in fact. I'm no longer on the computer. I just wanted to do this one today. I woke up with this full head and I need to spill it out.
~*~
Last night at work I met a man from India with a very fluffy beard. And he looks around my age, he's not even old. His beard is puffier than Santa's. I was fascinated. He was speaking softly about vitamins yet all I could do was gaze at his beard. I didn't even answer his vitamin questions. Instead, I told him that his beard was very puffy. He smiled and touched it and told me all about it. He uses vitamin E soap on it. He said if he didn't trim it, it would grow extremely long. I told him he reminded me of Cat Stevens. He didn't know who he was! So I had to tell him all about him. He said he'd go home and look him up, then next time he's in the store, he'd tell me of some good music I can check out. I made a new friend. I love this job. I don't see it as several different jobs, no, it's all one long vitamin selling job, just at different stores. So I can say, I've been doing the same thing since '99. That's when I got my very first job in a health food store, making smoothies. I'm on my 7th store now. I think I've found Vitamin Nirvana. It's the best one so far.
Something I really like about it is one of my co-workers, he's only 20, and that means FUN. We invented a new concept the other night: Alternate Reality Vitamin Store. It's where you go and buy things like Tapeworm Eggs instead of colon cleansers, Arsenic Concentrate Drops instead of ionic minerals, and Cow Pattie Dainty Soap instead of herbal cleansers. The list goes on and on. I love my new job.
...
freedom is never free
I saw that somewhere when I was a teenager, in a book maybe, and I tore it out, "laminated" it in scotch tape, and affixed it to the inside cover of my jewelry box. Freedom is Never Free. I was fascinated with the phrase. Freedom. What was it? Why do wars break out over it? Why is it what's taken away from a prisoner, as punishment? What is this concept that is so important to us? I knew, even as a teen, it somehow went much deeper than physical freedom, like the right to vote, freedom of speech, etc etc. So when I saw that, according to this quote, that it was never free... I began to wonder, so then, at what cost? And where do you go to buy it?
"There are so many to set free" is what I heard in my spirit in '05, as God showed me a vision of rows and rows of people behind bars, arms outstretched , hands waving, begging to be released. I had been praying for the people in my neighborhood at the time. From all outward appearances these people were not imprisoned in any way, no, they were the most relaxed folks I'd ever seen, without a care in the world it seemed, spending time on their front porches of their dilapadated homes. The kids romped in the street and played. The women had huge potbellies that rivaled the men. The men sat and drank beer and watched life go by, from the vantage point of the porch. I loved it there.
Why did God show me that these people were imprisoned? From all outward appearances, they were free as could be. Chew on that for a minute why dontcha.
When all this started, God said, "Tell them who you are", and I just went blank. I had no idea.
All of this expression has helped me to answer my own question as to who I am. This strange journey began with a dream in the fall of '06, while the seizures were going on, but I was too afraid to tell anyone. I dreamed of walking alone on a road, and the wind started to blow. It blew with such force that I could no longer move forward, and I was blown to the side of the road. I even saw a car blown off to the side as well, showing me how strong the wind was. As I stood on the side of the road, I was given an electronic device, it looked like a waffle iron, but it was something to communicate with. I held it in my right hand and was told that with this device, I would tell others "where I've been, and where I'm going." I carried this thing and began walking on the side of the road, and a path opened up through the tall grass. I saw that the path before me ran parallel to the big road, yet I was protected on each side with tall grass, almost like a cornfield. It was a safer path to walk.
The electronic communication device, of course, turned out to be this laptop that my mother insisted I bond with during the past two years, while I recovered. The fact that it appeared to be a waffle iron goes along with something God told me, that this time would "iron out my waffling." Indecision, changing my mind, being unsure of so many things. I can say that now, my waffling is all ironed out. I know who I am, and I know what I want, and what I don't want. I am unafraid to speak out.
Spiritually, I am a prophetess. I can say that now. Others have said it for me, but now, I can nod in agreement with no shame or self-consciousness. I am unafraid of my gift and I am learning to manage it with more grace, maturity, and joy.
Physically, I'm so proud of my healing that I could burst. I laugh at what happened and I laugh at what God has done with me during this time. It's surreal. Only me. Only in my life would this happen. I'm not even 40 yet. What next?
Mentally, I need help. Currently, Acetyl L-Carnitine is my best friend, twice a day, and good old tea, all the time. And lots of sleep.
Emotionally, I enjoy being the woman God created me to be. I am sensitive. I stress easily. I like guys. Ok I love guys. I have nothing left to hide and nothing to apologize for. My weaknesses balance out my strengths. I'm the perfect chick for the perfect man, wherever he may be. I desire a strong hand to hold, I yearn for comforting arms around me. But I will never play games again or try to fit myself into anyone else's standards. Freedom is the name of the game. We all have the right to be free, not only in your physical world, but in your friendships and relationships as well. To me, freedom is key. In all that I do on this planet from here on out, FREEDOM will be there. Oppression, condemnation, and accusation will not be a part of my life, and people who operate in these things will have nothing to do with me.
I am hated for my strengths, did you know that? Many men have loved me on the outside, yet hated once they discovered what's on the inside. Boys, I am now inside-out. There are no secrets. I have created the most ingenius filter ever. Each new man I meet will be promptly directed to my online creations. No more up-all-night explaining festivals, any more. By that I mean, I have talked so many guy's heads off over the years in futile attempts to show them what my head is really all about, but I only ended up confusing them.
I'm growing my hair long again.
I'm wearing a smile.
View my beauty, inside and out, and weep.
Punks.
~*~
I was going to create a new spot to stick my blogs, other than Worm Island. I was thinking Butterfly House, or Maison de Papillon would be the next place, but in my story, that represents heaven. I can't be blogging from heaven. So Worm Island, the place where men die unto themselves, is where I will leave this.
I leave this strange virtual world now, with a huge sigh of relief. I did it.
For years I was always on the verge of an emotional breakdown, barely able to contain all that was inside of me, good and bad. The pain, the grief, the overwhelming pain of the loss of my brother. The loss of my role as a mother, or so I perceived it, when my daughter would live with her dad. The frustrations of being used, again and again, in search of finding love. The frightening dreams and visions that began to flood my mind as God began to reveal Himself to me, and then watching them come to pass, one by one, scaring the living daylights out of me, and sometimes out of the folks they had to do with, and the suspicious looks that followed. The uphill battle that has been the norm for me as a single woman, on my own since 1997, refusing any form of help from anyone, including my family, until I was forced to rest, after getting the brain infection. For years I have been a walking time bomb. No more.
I plumb exploded.
I am enjoying my life once more. I go to work and have a clear mind, for the first time ever. I no longer feel the need to talk about personal matters with people. I feel more capable of helping others, rather than needing help. I enjoy listening more than speaking. My nerves are healing, I no longer feel as if I could cry when the wind blows. I am free.
If I could leave you with one thing, I would say, HUMBLE YOURSELF.
That, or toy around with pride a little longer. Who knows, maybe God will grant you a nice long season of cleansing, like He gave me. The only thing is, that soap sort of hurts. You can do it the hard way, like I did. Or you can simply listen to me.
Give yourself to Christ. Turn yourself in. Surrender.
Don't make me get in my
(I still don't have a car so I'll have to get back with you on that one)
...
(april 09)
The other day I dreamed this: I was slowly climbing a steep staircase, it appeared to be outside and it was carved out of stone, it was covered in mud and it was scary. It was steep and scary, and each new step to take was impossible for me, until I actually lifted my right leg to take a step, that's when a big strong arm would come down and grab hold of my hand and pull me up so I could get on the next step. I'd stand there, look at the mud, all blocked and overwhelmed, then attempt to step up and right then the help would come. This happened over and over again. I looked behind me and saw lots of people climbing the same stairs. I noticed each time the hand would lift me up and help me to the next step, I'd come down with such force on the new step that I left heavy indentions in the mud, footprints, and I turned and saw that the people behind me were stepping where I stepped, their climb was made easier because of my footprints in the mud. I made it all the way to the top and realized I had been climbing a mountain, there was no more mud on top, I was dizzy and I said, "that was so hard!" And I saw who had been lifting me, it was Jesus. He laughed at me and said, "I know!" And I understood that He had been with me all along. I woke up and cried and felt reassured that there is purpose to my difficulties, that other people are/will be helped because of it. And that's maybe why I can laugh, because I can't give any advice in any area of life except the spiritual.
Oh and I should say again, the hand didn't come down and lift me up until I'd lift my leg to take the step. Even though I knew I couldn't do it. I still tried.
..
(may 09)
...did I ever mention one of the very first visions I had after the brain infection? Or, rather, while it was going on. Like maybe the first month I was out at my mom's, barely off the depakote, staring into space and wondering what on earth was happening. I saw this~ a beautiful fig tree, laden with HUGE golden ripe fat juicy figs, they were so ripe and ready they were making the branches droop. Then a strong wind came to shake the tree and I knew all the figs were about to be blown right off. The location of the fig tree in the vision was right outside my mom's apartment, in the corner of the building, protected. Only one side was exposed to the strong wind. Well trees don't have sides but you know what I mean. The fig tree was about to be blown but it was safe at the same time. God was showing me what He was about to do with me. Did you like my fruit? Did any of it fall on your head? I hope so.
...
(june 09)
It's really been on my mind and bothering me. I just don't see how it will ever work. The scary restaurant dream. Sorry if you don't know what I mean. That's too bad. I'm tired of this.
Look. I've been thinking, and I'm realizing, all this I've been doing IS like a restaurant already. It's always there, open 24/7, and I'm inside. Not for real, but even better than real. The best of me is inside all this. That's more than you'd ever get out of me in real life.
None of this means much now. But let it ferment, let it float. Times are changing. Things that are seemingly totally uncool now might be suddenly more appealing when
Just know that I created more than cookies. I made a feast. It's all I had to give. And I had to do it when I did, because time is short.
My life is changing, there's a turn up ahead on my road. Good things are happening. The landscape is changing, fresh air is coming in. I'm moving on and I really don't want to take any of this with me. I thought I was going to, but I changed my mind.
Love, A.
(that's not to say I'm quitting my Secret Operative position. Just the writing & video making.)
...
(july 09)
this is something I did back in '99. It's pretty big. The background is this smooth velvet watercolor, the rest is done in watercolor pencils. It's about 3 feet tall. A poster! It's been at my Dad's all this time. I almost forgot about it. I got it today. I've been staring at it all day. I'm just thinking, 10 years later, maybe it's a good time to share it. That's all. Happy 4th. Happy FREEDOM day. Freedom!!
...
(march 08)
Earlier this year, I had the recurring dream of attempting to bury a package of seeds. In the dream, I kept wondering, why am I doing this? How can you grow anything if the seeds are all buried in a clump, in a package? Yet I kept doing this, in my dreams.
God brought to mind the fact that I had my journal all wrapped up in a package (literally) and buried away, hidden.
He said, "Release My seeds."
Then, the dreams changed. I saw the package torn open and seeds scattered.
This is when I began to write like there was no tomorrow. It all just came pouring out of me, during this strange time of my life. I have been torn open.
Then, I had this dream a couple months ago: I saw myself standing in a huge pile of seeds, they were covering my feet, they came up to my ankles, they were everywhere! I laughed and reached down and scooped some up in my hands, I was amazed at how many there were.
God has given me clues through the years that He had plans for me, and I have always sensed something mighty, well, He's mighty, and I'm small, that's why when I feel Him it's so overwhelming. It's just this amazing thing inside of me, the Living God. He's so good, people. He is SO GOOD.
So about the seeds. I have been torn open, and I have proceeded to spill out all that was in me, for better or for worse.
That's what I will keep on doing. I have no idea what is worthy and what is trivial. That's up to Him. All I know to do is keep talking.
I'm laying here trying to sleep for a minute till it's time to go pick up my mom, but I can't, cause I just realized I forgot to mention a few things. And it's imperative that I include every detail during this time because I have to remember everything. And you never know, this up and coming season of my existence just might be more fascinating and exciting than the Year of the Mental Blowout. I think they should add that to the Chinese calendar. Some people are Monkeys, and you got your Roosters, then you have your Mental Blowout folks. I love the fact that that happened to me. In fact if I could go back and do it all over again, I might, just not the lumbar puncture. But everything else was fun. Except the seizures. Speaking of seizures, why did I wait so long to tell somebody I was having them? Why did I keep it on the down low? And why did I get rid of my car?
So I wanted to say, I still don't really know where I am located, in relation to my new job. I've never been out that much in that direction. I do have directions memorized to the thrift store, and this is how to get there (this is actually how I remember it:) leave apartments, go left. Keep going till you see the tunnel, but don't go in. Turn right. Keep going until the street comes to a shopping center, and if you were to keep going straight you'd crash into the front doors of Wig Palace. Turn left. Turn right at the Statue of Liberty. For real. A very energetic guy who's dressed like the Statue of Liberty, completely, all silver, even with the spikey crown on his head, dancing on the corner, holding a sign. Turn right. Pass McDonald's, then lo! Look! ...it's the thrift store, on the right! And it is chock-full of so many goodies I can't get over it. That's how I became friends with the girl who runs the counter there. I tell her this is one of the best thrift stores I've ever seen, and she seems to agree, but then again she's stuck working there. I might hate it if I had to work there. Speaking of work, today my mom asked me, Oh by the way Amy, how much are they paying you?
And when she said this, it dawned on me, I didn't even ask! I still don't know! I didn't even think about it. I guess, truth be told, I really don't care. I'm just happy to have a job again.
And the other thing I wanted to tell the whole world is that my ex husband is getting a divorce. Which is perfect timing, now I'll be able to send him some cash to help with the Spawn. This man has been so understanding all this time, for over a year now I haven't been able to contribute at all, and he hasn't said a word. I told him I can't wait to cut him a check. And pay my mom some rent. And send some cash to the Spawn. And start saving for a car. AND GET MORE CUTE CLOTHES!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Now that I think about it, I do wonder how much they plan on paying me.
My throat is sudden WAIT. Oh great. The maintenance man is here, again. Why does my mother call him so much? Is this
HE'S LAUGHING AT ME!!!!!!!! He just called me in there and goes, LOOK!!! And he was holding a HUGE WAD OF MY HAIR ON HIS PLIERS!!!!!!!!!!! I AM HUMILITATED.
He just goes, who tub is this? You or your mom? And I confessed. I guess it got clogged before I chopped all my hair off. How did my mom know it was draining slow?
He just goes OKEY DOKEY!!! BYE!!! and left. I am going to die. This is like a plumber suddenly showing up with a plunger and heading into your bathroom with no notice and unplugging a huge WAIT my alarm is going off. I need to go get my mom.
MY THROAT HURTS.
My brain is all over the place. I've been taking alfalfa tablets round the clock for a few days now. I'm thinking of like, 10 things at once. Sort of like it used to be. I think my head is waking back up!
Well, you'll never believe what kind of person it looks like I might have become. Just guess. I have turned into one of those people who talk alot to the person who's ringing me up. I don't know how it happened or where it came from. I never used to be like this. But now I have a real-live budding social circle, the girl at the thrift store being my number one. She remembered me today. She was like, you got the job? Cause it was her that rang me up last week (on the day that I SHOULD'VE been getting something to wear on an interview (which I'm glad I didn't, as it turns out I didn't need it) but instead got the block of wood with the peas on it.
This morning was sort of deja vu, I found myself in the drive-thru line at McDonald's again, but did NOT order the number 6. I got the number 3 instead. I don't like combo meals but there's no time to pick and choose what you really want anymore. They rush you through and there's hardly any time to get out your money. I feel very intimidated these days, in a wide variety of situations. The worst is the Wendy's drive-thru, there's not even time to blink. I don't know how they do it.
I love what they wear at my new job. There's no real uniforms, but you have to dress in black and white. As in, black pants and a white blouse. So naturally I stretched this to the limit and made sure everything I got today was super-unique and cute, for example, cute black boots with shiny zippers and they go halfway up my legs. Of course they won't show. But I'll know I'm wearing them and that's all that matters. Finally, a valid excuse once more to wear zippery black leather boots. I...
I HAVE ARRIVED.
Wait. There's something else I was going to say.
(thinking)
....
...
Oh yeah! Speaking of wearing things that nobody knows! When I was typing that above, it made me think of my dreadful days of wearing a sports bra, and then going to this Wal-Mart in order to remedy the situation, and tossing the ugly thing into the parking lot.
That's what I was going to say. Another reason why today was deja vu: I went back to that same Wal-Mart today, and got some really cute unmentionables, and came home and tossed my old ones, including the bra I got to cancel out the sports bra, into the trash. So it's like, the full circle of Wal-Mart and bras. You just don't know. So it looks like I'm steadily climbing the ladder once more, and maybe by next year there will be no need to keep upping things a notch in my wardrobe, maybe by then I'll be all set with the cutest clothing EVER. Like I had when I had an apartment out here (right down the road actually) and I dressed up every day and had the most adorable clothes and shoes ever, but then found out that when you look all steamy and sassy AND live alone, panty thiefs come and break in and do bad things in your apartment, running you off to live with your father for a season, eventually resulting in you getting your own place again but not without first throwing away all your makeup and chopping off your hair in order to deter the curious neighbors who stare while you unload your few belongings out of your Chevy Metro in the broken-glass littered gravel driveway of the garage apartment to the mobile home with the sewage puddle out back that had mosquito larvae in it.
People, just a warning. I'm back, and I'm dangerous. Stand back. No, for real. I mean it this time. There is absolutely NO TELLING what's next.
Last night as I was going to sleep I remembered something that happened when I was little, we were out riding bikes, all of us neighbor kids, that would be a pack of about 7 or 8 kids, and I was the youngest. Those days were different, things were safe, we'd ride all over the place, on bike trails, to the YMCA, to Aunt Stella's Sno Cones, to Edgefield Park, to Polar Bear Ice Cream. As long as we stayed together, we pretty much had permission to go anywhere we wanted.
On this one particular day we were doing the bike trail thing, going up and down the hills, in single-file, and of course I was last in line. I think I was about 6 or 7 years old. I was going along, and I fell, my bike toppled over and I went tumbling, and I remember just laying there, stunned for a minute. Finally I looked up and realized, I was alone, all the other kids were long gone and nobody knew I had fallen.
Then! Next thing I knew, these two hands are under my arms, my bike is set up straight and I'm suddenly sitting on it. Before I could even think twice about it, I looked, and he was gone. It was some kid on a bike, an older boy, and not part of our group. I didn't recognize him, I guess he had been riding a way back behind all of us or something. Anyway, he didn't even say a word to me, just came up, put me back on my bike, then took off down the trail.
I remember thinking "thank you" in my little heart because I couldn't say it to him. I got back on the trail and eventually caught up with my group, who didn't even know I had fallen. I was little but also faster than the rest of them.
I don't know why this memory came to mind last night. I wasn't thinking about me falling, I was thinking of the fact that I had a helping hand, just out of the blue, to pull me back up, and didn't even linger long enough to hear a thank you.
To him it was probably nothing, but to me it was something.
I guess it came to mind because I feel like I've been suddenly put back up right and able to go again. Yesterday, I was hired, and I didn't even have an interview. I was early, so I called the manager from the parking lot and asked if I could come by a little earlier for the interview, and she said, you know what- let's just skip the interview, I can tell you're right for this place just by talking to you on the phone earlier and by looking at your application. Just come on in & we'll get the paperwork going.
So I got a job in a parking lot. I ... I was...
well let's just say that I called everyone in my entire family, and they're as happy as I am. I got the hours I wanted, at the store I wanted, doing the thing I wanted, at the location I wanted. And now today I'm getting some new clothes. That's because I'm dangerous.
On the way home I had to stop by and tell Mark, and rubbed it in his face that I'm working at a vitamin store again, using all the knowledge that he trained me in. I got a little certification thing while working at his store, and he's the one who studied with me and taught me the basics. I love to remind him that his investment in me is being scattered abroad. He hangs his head and sighs and says, "You pick on me because I'm Jewish." He's hillarious.
I've come so far. I can't help but be really, really, exceptionally happy for myself at the moment.
As of next year, I will honestly be able to say that I've been doing this for a decade. The vitamin stores. I accidentally got a career!
....
(august 09)
My head is on another planet. I'm without a tear, there's none left. She was here yesterday, and again today. Yesterday we sat on the couch and cried together, just hugging and bawling. Today we went shopping. She's all set.
I look at what I've done during this time and it seems further and further away from me. It's not that I don't care about it all anymore, it's just that my head is no longer there.
Want to know where my head is? Fascinated with the perfection of this. The timing. How it's all dovetailing into one moment. I didn't know that my dark tunnel was so tied-in to
And
...then there's the dream I had the other nite-
I was sitting in a dark room, facing a closed door... but there was a bright light behind the door, I saw it thru the cracks. The door was about to open.
It's 12:25 am, she's packing her things at her Dad's and she leaves at 4 this morning. She's never coming back, not to life as she's known it. She's free.
I feel guilty for abandoning all this.
I keep saying goodbye.
I'm a different woman than I was 2 years ago. Not really sure who I am anymore. I worked so hard to tell you who I was, and now here I am with an entire new set of circumstances, thoughts, feelings...
but don't worry. I'll spare you.
I will leave you with this, though. My daughter is a lighthouse. She carries a torch within her. I didn't pass it. It just got there on its own.
I close my eyes and lean my head back now, I feel relief and release. I exhale and say, I did it. My fruit, it rolls uphill on it's own momentum, it didn't get stuck in the lowest place, and now it goes behind the trees, out of my sight...
I wink at you, knowing you know my secrets, those I've shared and those that are yet to be, as I close my book.
....
(may 09)
So today I'm taking the next one to the place where they put it on a dvd for you. I'm sure those guys who work there get a good laugh each day. Can you imagine that? Doing that for a job? Sitting and watching people's old home movies? I would love that! Except for the technical part.
I shudder at the thought of these guys seeing my old videos that I myself haven't seen in a long time. Years! I haven't been able to watch them, the box you put them in has been lost for years. The box that makes it fit. Fit into what? Nobody has vhs stuff anymore! Do you see why I don't even try to keep up? By the time I catch up electronically, times have changed, and I'm left standing there holding a cord and the outlet is gone. At least that's how I feel.
So I have to wait another week till the next one's done. What shall I do in the meantime?
I was thinking about making some more stupid cartoon videos. About what, though? Global Warming?
Cussing?
Trannies?
Puppy Mills?
I just don't know. I'm going to have to think about this.
.
...I don't have anything to say.
Except that I'm a bit confounded at the moment, my mom came over and she went shopping and got me some shorts, she's always trying to keep me looking decent, they're really cute but they're a size 9. Since when do I wear a size 9? What's happened to me? When I was at her apartment and not doing a thing, I couldn't keep weight on, and now that I'm working and on my feet all the time, I'm a blimp. Does that make any sense? Somebody I work with said that happens sometimes when you've been sick and then you get better. That would make sense. It's not like I'm eating like crazy or anything.
None of my jeans fit right and my face looks like a balloon.
This is why participating in the real world is probably not a good idea for me, nor has it ever been. I'm just on another stint, that's all. "Working", or "Employment" as some call it. "Earning a Paycheck."
I never truly feel like I'm REALLY doing whatever it is that I'm being paid to do. Know what I mean?
Sometimes it seems like my whole world is a farce, and my real life won't be known to me until it's all over with.
But back to the size 9 thing. I've never been a size 9. I'm a size 5. That's what I've been since I was 16. It's never changed. I refuse to believe this.
Perhaps the answer is to not do the real world thing anymore. Honestly. I'm in the mood to go to some shady trailer park, knock on a random door, and ask whoever opens it if I can move in. Shady, as in under a bunch of old trees. I want to meet interesting people. Carnival people. You know that feeling? When you talk to the ride operators and the ticket takers? Whenever I talk with those people it takes me away to some unseen place in my head. I want to live among them. I want to have an elderly tattooed neighbor with a pet snake and colored lights hanging on a string in his front yard. I want to drink tea with a housebound woman with framed pictures of her dead relatives lost at sea in some war. I want to hear the sounds of children laughing and catching fireflies.
I gotta get out of here.
What am I doing here?
.
As it turns out, the shorts are way baggy.
Thank goodness. I was thinking all day today, is she trying to drop a hint or something? Anyway I can't be a size nine, because I still wear my size 5 jeans. They're just tight is all. And not everywhere, just around the waist. It's my tummy. I don't know why or where it came from. Well ok I have been relying on McDonald's since I came here, because I told them I'd pay a certain amount and buy my own food. I started out with a small fridge in my room that I got at the thrift store, but it didn't last long. I gave up. I'm back to fast food. That, and 7-11. I love 7-11. I like the fruit and yogurt cups and the little salads. And pizza.
I never needed to eat like this until I started existing so hard. This is rough. And it's not even my tummy that's hungry, I think I'm trying to feed my mind. I'll drink a whole thing of chocolate milk just to calm my nerves.
At my mom's apartment it was just crackers and tea and the occasional frozen meal. I didn't care, it was all the same. I hardly ate. All I did was sit around with the cat and the laptop. I thought I'd miss it but as it turns out, I don't.
The other thing I'm happy about (besides not being a size 9) is the fact that my second video is ALREADY DONE!!!! And I just took it there yesterday. I guess the guys up there got bored or something. It's ready early. I'm off tomorrow so that will be my project for the day.
I was wondering how much they pay greeters at Wal-Mart? I sometimes think that's all I'm good for at a store is saying hi to people. I spout off knowledge but it's a robotic kind of response, it doesn't really come from my current head. It's stored information. Not current information. Know what I mean? I feel guilty sometimes. I'll be talking about fish oil but really my head is thinking about what I want to write about and how I'm feeling. I have two minds.
I forgot to mention, lately something has been occuring to me. It's hitting me that I may have forgotten things that I had no idea I forgot. I don't know how to explain it. For example, watching that beach video of Leah has reminded me of so many things, I watch it and I'm like, oh yeah! I remember how I felt during those days. It makes me feel like a mom again. Somehow this is having an accidental therapeutic effect. It's like things are being re-installed on my hard drive in my head. I don't know how to put it. But lately things have been occuring to me that I haven't thought about or cared about in years. I'm feeling more and more complete. Now I'm suspicious as to what all was erased off my brain when it was infected. Did you know, I couldn't even sign my own name on the ER forms on the first day I went? My mom had to do it. I couldn't talk. I was talking just fine at work that day, then it all hit, and by the time I was in the ER I couldn't even get one sentence out. That's when they scanned my brain the first time and found the spot.
I wonder if that's the hole all my memories slipped through.
I feel really disoriented sometimes. Sometimes it seems like I'm nothing but a cardboard shell, an existing human, that's it. I used to be so connected to all my feelings and thoughts, but now, everything seems so distant. These blogs and voice recordings give me some sense of connection but sometimes I think
You don't care about any of this, do you.
So are we supposed to be worried about Korea?
Tonight I thought about how I would react if a gunman came in to where I was and started shooting. Would I scream? To be honest, the thought of that doesn't even scare me. I'm the one who would willingly take a bullet. For some reason that kind of trauma or stress doesn't scare me. It's the unseen chaos on a personal level that I've had enough of and I go to great lengths to avoid.
I'm sorry if I'm rambling but I got into the Shiner Bock again.
.
Ok.
I have watched these at least 50 times today. I'm drinking it in like fine wine. It's hitting the spot. I'm satisfied. To the point of, I'll take it from here. I really don't think I need anybody else to hold my hand through any of this anymore. Not that anyone held my hand. But knowing I've had people with me during this dark time has helped. Nevermind the fact it was mostly raised eyebrows and head shaking and laughing at, not with. So what. I wasn't alone and that means alot to me.
I may not be home yet, but I see the light.
I changed my mind about sharing the rest of my home movies. These are mine. Go make or watch your own.
love, A.
...
(march 09)
Are you stuck?
I was. I hope I'm not still but you never really know. My pan-out camera keeps backing up and showing me the bigger picture on things, so I constantly have to say, oh, now I get it...
Several months ago I was quite depressed. During that time I had this vision:
I saw a pig, sleeping in a cage.
I had no idea what the meaning was, so I asked God to bless that pig and help it. I knew it represented someone, but not knowing who, I asked that God wake the pig up, so at the very least it would know it was in a cage. I guess I could have asked that God set the pig free, but instead, I saw a greater need in the pig: it had no clue that it was imprisoned. I figured that should come first.
A couple of weeks passed, and I had another vision~ I saw the same cage, the same sleeping pig, but get this! The pig was no longer little, it had grown big and fat. It was still sound asleep, with a smile. It was lazy sleep. I saw that the bars of the cage were bent and broken... the pig was no longer caged, but it had no idea. It was still asleep, inside the cage. The size of the pig had broken the confines of the cage, but the pig was still inside. Know what I'm saying? Like it busted the cage but still couldn't move.
This was a frustrating and disturbing thing for me to see. It was hitting close to home. I prayed about it, and I understood in my spirit, the pig was me. I had outgrown my situation but had no idea. Somewhere along the way I gave up the fight, and fell asleep in some ways. It was easier that way. I'm talking about what I've been dealing with these past 2 years, the health thing.
But God was showing me that I have grown fat in the ways I was lean- and that's a good thing! I have been strengthened in so many ways through this. But my prayers to "be set free" were frustrating, I couldn't understand why God didn't just fling my apartment door wide open, present me with a job and a car and yes... Prince Suitable. I was thinking my freedom meant being handed everything back, and on a silver platter.
But as I prayed about this vision, God said, "Go- before you are slaughtered."
Are you following me? I'm sharing this to maybe encourage someone else out there, who's feeling trapped, stuck, imprisoned in a certain situation. I'm sharing what I just learned: that God wants us to use our strength, our minds, our energy, our prayers, our guts, our determination, our imagination, our passion... to find our way out. He doesn't just reach down and turn some unseen key and say, shoo! We can't sit like a caged animal waiting for release.
I was a pig in a cage who, over time and through much soul-searching and rest, grew big and fat and healthy. Freedom didn't come on my terms, so I fell asleep, I gave up. I grew lethargic and lazy. Little did I know, I was free already, my growth is what broke down the walls. And there I was, sound asleep and happy as a clam. How long would I have remained in that broken cage, if I had not been shown the truth by my Maker?
Know what happens to fat pigs? They get slaughtered.
In my metaphorical dream world, to be slaughtered is to be attacked spiritually: depression, fear, isolation, anxiety...
I plum got up and went.
Thank You God.
...
Yesterday a guy I work with said, Why do you keep saying "thank you" when you talk? I said, I didn't say thank you. He said, you keep saying it in sign language when you're talking. I was like, what? And he said this motion I make when I'm trying to get a point across means thank you in sign language. People have always laughed at how much I talk with my hands, one store manager said he enjoyed watching me when I talked to customers about internal cleansing and fibers and such, he said whenver I said the word "digestion" I made a strange motion with my hands, it was as if I was pulling on an invisible string or something. He said, Amy, usually one can see the connection in words and how one talks with their hands, but sometimes the motions you make with your hands have nothing to do with the words you are saying. Tell me, what does this mean? And he did the thing I did whenever I said digestion. I just stared at him and laughed. I had no clue. I didn't even know I was doing that thing with my hands to begin with.
So anyway, the guy yesterday said, why do you talk with your hands? I said that it was always a habit, but it really increased after the brain infection, when I had trouble getting things out. I'd have a thought in my head, and the words were there, but just not at the same time. I'd start a sentence but the last half couldn't find it's way out. That's when I started doing the "thank you" motion. I just started putting my hand up to my mouth and making a movement like to help the words come out, that's all it was, and I didn't even realize I was constantly doing it. I don't have any trouble getting my words out now, but I still do the hand thing without knowing it. According to this guy, I'm saying thank you, over and over again, as I talk.
He laughed at me, I changed the subject, but deep down I knew, my own sign language is yet another sign for me.
..
My Betta, Sophie, has gotten bored with his flakes, so I thought he'd like to experiment with some live food. Rather than going to the pet store, I started looking under the rocks in my corn plant, and lo and behold, the potting soil is filled with little white centipedes! They're worms with tiny legs. I scooped one up on a leaf and dropped it in, and Sophie gobbled it up in one bite. So now each morning when my tea is brewing I take a minute and find a worm. My horizons are expanding.
I had a dream that I was severing the head off a cat, but not all the way, and I had to do it. I knew it was hurting the cat, but I knew it had bone problems, and this was the only way to get the bones strong again- to force new growth. Also I knew, as I was cutting the kittie's neck, not to go all the way down with the knife. Just go to the center. I woke up knowing this is what I've done with myself. If you have no idea what I'm talking about...
But back to live food for the fish. I'm bothered by the fact that I could have been giving him live, fresh food all along. How long have these little worms been in my plant? This makes me wonder, what else am I overlooking? What are you overlooking? This is ridiculous. In my opinion, by the time we're smart enough to function intelligently on this planet, we're dead.
..
I have this thing with appliances: I break them. Unintentionally, of course. Things just happen. I don't know how or why, but all I know is, I would be lost without the maintenance men.
Take for example what happened yesterday: when I was getting ready for work, I noticed a slight drip coming from my bathroom sink, underneath. So I put a bowl under it and went to work. It was just a tiny drip. I was going to call the apartments but I forgot. So when I got home last night, I walk in, and all of my belongings are in the entry and the living room, including my nice new curio cabinet! Everything I own is moved out of my room. I open my bedroom door and lo and behold, it's empty, except for the bed, which I don't even use. ( I sleep on the floor on a cushion thing.) As it turns out, after I left for work, the pipes busted, flooded my bathroom and my bedroom, and made it's way down to the apartment below, and they called the apartment office, who sent the maintenance men up here, and they had to tear up the carpet, remove the foam padding, etc etc.
I woke up with a headache. I think it's from sleeping in there on damp carpet. I can't use the bed in there because all of my stuff is in bags and boxes on the bed. Isn't that funny? All of my things were already up off the floor, I packed everything up to move a few weeks ago, so none of my things got wet. There wasn't even anything under the sink.
So I'm thinking the maintenance guys must think I saw the water bust, got all my things off the floor, then casually left, like nothing happened.
I also melted a glass onto the stove at my sister's by turning on the wrong burner recently. And before that, I almost made her house blow up by turning on the water while they were doing a leak test, when the problem turned out to be the gas heater thing. It's a long story. They told me over and over again, DON'T TURN ON THE WATER, and of course I went in the bathroom and brushed my teeth. And I only did that because one of the leak test guys turned out to be someone who used to come in my old work, he managed a fast food place right next to my store, and he'd come in and I'd talk to him about vitamins. Small world!
One time I touched a computer and it blew a fuse or something, all I know is, I went up to it, hit enter, and it went black, and the ceiling tile directly above it fell out and onto the computer. I had to call the store owner. He asked how I broke his computer. I said all I did was touch it.
I have this thing with machines, appliances,etc etc. It's like an unspoken battle is going on between us. They are trying to do me in, make me look stupid. I am trying to show them that I, as a human being, have no need for them. Well, I do need them, but I don't respect them. I am superior, and they know my thoughts.
I will leave you with this fantastic blog on this fine day. You can thank me later.
..
So I come home today and as I'm walking up to my apartment I see this industrial mess all around, and the apartment below me is all open and the maintenance men are hard at work. It would appear that they are replacing part of the ceiling. I think I might have something to do with this.
This reminds me of the time I was working at a vitamin store, it was back to back to a sports equipment place and a 7-11. One day the sports store owner walked over and said, Do you think you can stop flushing your toilet until they get the plumbing fixed? Each time you flush, your sewage floods OUR bathroom. I laughed. I had no idea there was even a problem with the plumbing, even though 7-11 got backed up all the time and caused issues for us. I called my store's owner and told him what was going on and he laughed too. Our bathroom remained dry. It just all went and messed up somebody else's life.
I wonder if blogging is sort of like that? Do you know what I'm saying?
So now my things are piled up in the living room. They're going to replace the carpet in here in a few days. I'm glad this happened because it seems like I've already moved. My room is no longer my little cave anymore. I remember the day we moved in here 2 years ago. I was still messed up with the brain infection and still sort of dim witted from the seizure medication. I still could barely go up stairs without getting out of breath. Moving day wiped me out, and the first thing I did when we came in was go in this room, find the closet, go in, shut the door, and lay down. Right there on the floor. I had to. My head couldn't stay awake. The mover guys were all over the place and I hoped they wouldn't come in here, but one did. He opened the closet door and there I was, asleep on the floor. He stood there with a puzzled look on his face. I was embarrassed but too tired to think too much about it.
So I guess you could say, I woke up in this place. This bedroom is where I woke back up to my life. I'm going to miss it. Or maybe not.
..
Today I wasn't feeling so good, so instead of curling up with my blankie and taking a nap, I left for work way early and got me some new things, one of them being a new cute jacket, so I can finally toss the old nasty denim thing I've been wearing. I couldn't even wait to toss it in the dumpster. Instead, it got littered on a dark street on the way home. Right out my car window. It felt good. It landed on the corner so maybe some hapless, cold person will find it and like it.
I'm at war with myself again. I want to take off. I want to go away. Far, far away. What am I doing looking for an apartment nearby? Why am I conforming to a normal life? Why do I put these restraints on myself? My daughter is leaving for college this summer. She's heading south. Why shouldn't I? Maybe I can find me a little hole-in-the-wall dumpy apartment or rent house in some obscure town and spend my days off sitting at a lake somewhere, painting. I feel like I'm on the verge of breaking again, but in a good way.
Tonight the man with the puffy beard came back in. He said they have snakes where he's from, they come in the house. He said cobras come in sometimes. Can you imagine that? Instead of roaches or mice, you have cobras sneaking in? He said when they come in, you don't move. There's a way to deal with them but it's not by freaking out. The conversation began to creep me out so I excused myself.
Well here I am, back to blogging about nothing. Just like I said I wasn't going to do. Well I have a good excuse, my days of having an internet connection are numbered, thank goodness. I'm sitting here in my room, looking at my belongings piled up on my bed. Everything's packed. Where am I going? Does anybody know? Something tells me I won't end up where I plan on ending up. My spirit is pulling me in an entirely different direction than my brain is trying to go in.
..
I had a conversation with someone recently, he's not a believer, which to me is a non-issue, I never considered it my business to discuss faith with him or debate with him or try to get him to see things the way I see them. Why? Cause I'm related to him. I love him. I enjoy his company and his conversation. We can talk for hours and laugh. That is until the topic of "religion" comes up.
He's pretty hostile about it. I shy away from discussing it, not out of fear, but to keep my own lid on. I think that if my own can of worms gets opened around him, it's sure to escalate. For now, I just prefer to lay low. I like to listen to his point of view on things, and it's educational for me to hear his opinions on why God simply cannot exist. Even though I disagree (and know he's wrong), still, I listen intently and try to see where he's coming from. I respect him and I show it. (no, I'm not talking about my father.)
He, however, has yet to master the art of giving the same in return to me. It's ok.
So in dealing with him, I've gotten a better perspective of where atheists are coming from. I understand. I also know that from a sensible human standpoint, the atheist point of view makes perfect sense. But I also have come to realize, they simply have yet to experience the spiritual.
This is something I brought up with my relative. He's really knowledgable in financial things, investing, the stock market, etc etc. This is a bermuda triangle area in my life. I have very little interest, knowledge, and understanding when it comes to finances. To me, it's as basic as this: go to work. Earn paycheck. Deposit in bank. Spend some. Save some. Period.
I suppose this is why I am nearing 40 years old and still have the mindset of a teenager when it comes to money. I'm smart enough to realize, it's due to my own ignorance. I pointed this out to my relative. I said, I have a feeling that if someone would have taken me by the hand and walked me through the ins and outs of money and investing and what-not, and taught me how to be successful with it, and maybe even enjoy it, and let me experience first-hand the rewards of making a profit- maybe then I would embrace it and want to learn more. But as it stands, I'm an outsider in that realm. I'm inept, I've tried and failed to get ahead financially. So I gave up, and I get by on the bare minimum.
He just stared at me and wondered why I was saying this.
I told him, I have a feeling this is how you are when it comes to believing in God. You simply haven't experienced the spiritual, or witnessed any miracles first-hand. You don't know Him. Your sensible mind can't fit Him into your own understanding, so you dismiss the whole thing.
I honestly feel that this is what's going on, big-picture, with atheists. They don't get it, so they throw the baby out with the bathwater- to hell with it all, it makes no sense!
After we had this conversation, the ridiculing tones from him ceased. But it really got me to thinking about it. Why are atheists so quick to mock and ridicule us? Does it make them feel superior? Do they think it actually helps their case?
I just want to let it be known that it's hurtful, and unnecessary. There's a way to debate and conversate without putting the other person down. If you really want someone to hear you out, watch your tone and treat them with respect.
I see this growing debate between atheists and believers, it seems to have gotten pretty nasty. I wonder if all the stress from the economy is making us all a bit tense.
I got some good insight from the guy I was talking with- he was raised in a legalistic, religious kind of way, grew up in a small town. He grew up and moved on, and I think he's associating God with his sheltered upbringing. I get it. I understand why he views believing in God as small-minded and ignorant. The problem is, he's quick to make others who believe feel the same way.
All I'm saying is, I think it's time to start listening just a little bit more.
..
Ok I just have to tell you this. It's funny.
The other day at work this guy was telling me about his friend who keeps having dreams about mommies. I replied that that was cute. He said, that's not cute, it's creepy. I said, how is that creepy? It's sweet! He said that was wrong and I had a problem. We went back and forth like this for several minutes until I said, well I guess it could be creepy, depending on what's happening in the dreams, like, are they coming at him and wanting to change his diaper and stuff like that?
He looked at me in dead silence. Then it hit him. He blurted out in his thick accent: "MUMMIES!! I SAID MUMMIES, NOT MOMMIES!!"
I was like, ooohhhh!!!!! and that started me on an uncontrollable laughing spree that lasted for the rest of the day. I was laughing so hard my stomach hurt. He was laughing hard too. But it really got me to thinking.
About a lot of things. About death, and life. About old, and new. Wasn't Lazarus technically a mummy? And don't mommies bring new life?
wait
...I'm thinking, how beautiful! From a mummy to a mommy! It's symbolic of course, but you know what I mean? Do I really have to describe all my thoughts on it this morning or can you just go ahead and pull it all together in your own head? I'm only on my second cup of tea.
..
(march 08)
Well of course I'd have a stomachache now. I saw it coming but I did it anyway. I didn't "fold box into platform" when I stuck my dinner in the microwave. The strangest thing ever. I had already ripped open the box and removed the contents, only to discover that you're not supposed to rip THAT box. No, this box is supposed to be folded into a "platform" upon which you place your thing (I still don't know what it was that I just ate) (I didn't buy it). You're supposed to follow this diagram and fold all the edges backwards and make a little table. But I had already torn the box, so I put the dinner back inside and stuck it in for the required 3 minutes. It was cold in some places but I ate it anyway. Now my stomach hurts. It was a WAIT I'll go read the box. Alright. It was a Flatbread Melts Chicken Ranch Club.
Nobody ever told me I'd have to know Oragami in order to eat. Same for those dinners that aim to control your thoughts by giving too many instructions, like the ones that say, "peel back plastic cover over beans, cut slit over entree, remove cover from apples,", but they don't stop there, it goes on to say, "after 2.5 minutes, stop, rotate, remove cover altogether, stir", then return to oven. I don't play that way. No matter what the directions say, like 3 minutes on medium and 4 minutes on high, it doesn't matter. I just look at whatever numbers are there, add them, and that's that. That's how long my dinner stays in, on whatever setting the oven is already on. I do not have an overflowing abundant supply of extra brain cells to dedicate to solving math problems in the kitchen. When I'm hungry, that's it, I need to eat, no time for dillydallying. I will not be ordered around by the Lean Cusine or Healthy Choice people.
What cracks me up is when I hear the phrase "your relationship with food." I didn't know it went that deep. What am I missing? All I know is, it's a burden. To feed something that's dying. Why do we spend so much time trying to keep our bodies going, when it's our souls that are eternal, but the food the soul needs is so elusive and hard to come by? And even when you find it, you still starve yourself? For example, I haven't prayed in about 48 hours. I'm already slipping. Getting hungry. And the Lean Cusine thing only tricks me into thinking I am fed for the day. SEE? Why don't you open your eyes and wake up for crying out loud. You're probably starving at this very minute. You think you want pizza, but what you really need is to pray. This is ridiculous.
I'm very average today. Actually I'm below average. I actually slipped and fell today, which hasn't happened since I was pregnant 17 years ago. It happened due to my slippery bathtub. I've been conditioning my hair alot lately with olive oil and coconut oil to compensate for it's length. I chopped it all off recently and it's ugly, so by making it smooth and supple I feel better.
So I fell into the bathtub when I was getting in, it was extra slippery today, and for a minute I was just stunned, it took me a second to realize what just happened. Then I started laughing. I wonder what the people below me think. They're a normal little family and both parents work, but sometimes one of them is home (cause I can hear them), and I wonder if they wonder why someone is always home up here. I bet they think there's something wrong with me.
About those people, I always know when they're coming home, cause I hear the kid screaming, and the mom has to shout, GET IN HERE!! ...as in, the kid doesn't want to come home? He's only 2 years old! How can a 2 year old not want to come home?
So about me falling today, I was thinking, IS THIS A SIGN????
So I started examining my life on many different layers and levels. I think I'm good for now. Oh! Wait! I just remembered. A tiny black spider was on the computer last night.
I have so much to say. Even though I'm done telling my experiences. See now I'm noticing new things about it all, and new twists and turns. My life is a puzzle, a matrix, a labrynth. I'm lost in a dream.
Speaking of being lost, I think that's why I love to blog so much. It gives me a connection, even if it's to strangers, folks I'll never meet (nor do I want to)... I think I'm much better at this than I am real-life connections. I don't know why. And I also have no idea why people read the stupid things I say more than the important things.
Are you stuck?
I was. I hope I'm not still but you never really know. My pan-out camera keeps backing up and showing me the bigger picture on things, so I constantly have to say, oh, now I get it...
Several months ago I was quite depressed. During that time I had this vision:
I saw a pig, sleeping in a cage.
I had no idea what the meaning was, so I asked God to bless that pig and help it. I knew it represented someone, but not knowing who, I asked that God wake the pig up, so at the very least it would know it was in a cage. I guess I could have asked that God set the pig free, but instead, I saw a greater need in the pig: it had no clue that it was imprisoned. I figured that should come first.
A couple of weeks passed, and I had another vision~ I saw the same cage, the same sleeping pig, but get this! The pig was no longer little, it had grown big and fat. It was still sound asleep, with a smile. It was lazy sleep. I saw that the bars of the cage were bent and broken... the pig was no longer caged, but it had no idea. It was still asleep, inside the cage. The size of the pig had broken the confines of the cage, but the pig was still inside. Know what I'm saying? Like it busted the cage but still couldn't move.
This was a frustrating and disturbing thing for me to see. It was hitting close to home. I prayed about it, and I understood in my spirit, the pig was me. I had outgrown my situation but had no idea. Somewhere along the way I gave up the fight, and fell asleep in some ways. It was easier that way. I'm talking about what I've been dealing with these past 2 years, the health thing.
But God was showing me that I have grown fat in the ways I was lean- and that's a good thing! I have been strengthened in so many ways through this. But my prayers to "be set free" were frustrating, I couldn't understand why God didn't just fling my apartment door wide open, present me with a job and a car and yes... Prince Suitable. I was thinking my freedom meant being handed everything back, and on a silver platter.
But as I prayed about this vision, God said, "Go- before you are slaughtered."
Are you following me? I'm sharing this to maybe encourage someone else out there, who's feeling trapped, stuck, imprisoned in a certain situation. I'm sharing what I just learned: that God wants us to use our strength, our minds, our energy, our prayers, our guts, our determination, our imagination, our passion... to find our way out. He doesn't just reach down and turn some unseen key and say, shoo! We can't sit like a caged animal waiting for release.
I was a pig in a cage who, over time and through much soul-searching and rest, grew big and fat and healthy. Freedom didn't come on my terms, so I fell asleep, I gave up. I grew lethargic and lazy. Little did I know, I was free already, my growth is what broke down the walls. And there I was, sound asleep and happy as a clam. How long would I have remained in that broken cage, if I had not been shown the truth by my Maker?
Know what happens to fat pigs? They get slaughtered.
In my metaphorical dream world, to be slaughtered is to be attacked spiritually: depression, fear, isolation, anxiety...
I plum got up and went.
Thank You God.
...
Yesterday a guy I work with said, Why do you keep saying "thank you" when you talk? I said, I didn't say thank you. He said, you keep saying it in sign language when you're talking. I was like, what? And he said this motion I make when I'm trying to get a point across means thank you in sign language. People have always laughed at how much I talk with my hands, one store manager said he enjoyed watching me when I talked to customers about internal cleansing and fibers and such, he said whenver I said the word "digestion" I made a strange motion with my hands, it was as if I was pulling on an invisible string or something. He said, Amy, usually one can see the connection in words and how one talks with their hands, but sometimes the motions you make with your hands have nothing to do with the words you are saying. Tell me, what does this mean? And he did the thing I did whenever I said digestion. I just stared at him and laughed. I had no clue. I didn't even know I was doing that thing with my hands to begin with.
So anyway, the guy yesterday said, why do you talk with your hands? I said that it was always a habit, but it really increased after the brain infection, when I had trouble getting things out. I'd have a thought in my head, and the words were there, but just not at the same time. I'd start a sentence but the last half couldn't find it's way out. That's when I started doing the "thank you" motion. I just started putting my hand up to my mouth and making a movement like to help the words come out, that's all it was, and I didn't even realize I was constantly doing it. I don't have any trouble getting my words out now, but I still do the hand thing without knowing it. According to this guy, I'm saying thank you, over and over again, as I talk.
He laughed at me, I changed the subject, but deep down I knew, my own sign language is yet another sign for me.
..
My Betta, Sophie, has gotten bored with his flakes, so I thought he'd like to experiment with some live food. Rather than going to the pet store, I started looking under the rocks in my corn plant, and lo and behold, the potting soil is filled with little white centipedes! They're worms with tiny legs. I scooped one up on a leaf and dropped it in, and Sophie gobbled it up in one bite. So now each morning when my tea is brewing I take a minute and find a worm. My horizons are expanding.
I had a dream that I was severing the head off a cat, but not all the way, and I had to do it. I knew it was hurting the cat, but I knew it had bone problems, and this was the only way to get the bones strong again- to force new growth. Also I knew, as I was cutting the kittie's neck, not to go all the way down with the knife. Just go to the center. I woke up knowing this is what I've done with myself. If you have no idea what I'm talking about...
But back to live food for the fish. I'm bothered by the fact that I could have been giving him live, fresh food all along. How long have these little worms been in my plant? This makes me wonder, what else am I overlooking? What are you overlooking? This is ridiculous. In my opinion, by the time we're smart enough to function intelligently on this planet, we're dead.
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I have this thing with appliances: I break them. Unintentionally, of course. Things just happen. I don't know how or why, but all I know is, I would be lost without the maintenance men.
Take for example what happened yesterday: when I was getting ready for work, I noticed a slight drip coming from my bathroom sink, underneath. So I put a bowl under it and went to work. It was just a tiny drip. I was going to call the apartments but I forgot. So when I got home last night, I walk in, and all of my belongings are in the entry and the living room, including my nice new curio cabinet! Everything I own is moved out of my room. I open my bedroom door and lo and behold, it's empty, except for the bed, which I don't even use. ( I sleep on the floor on a cushion thing.) As it turns out, after I left for work, the pipes busted, flooded my bathroom and my bedroom, and made it's way down to the apartment below, and they called the apartment office, who sent the maintenance men up here, and they had to tear up the carpet, remove the foam padding, etc etc.
I woke up with a headache. I think it's from sleeping in there on damp carpet. I can't use the bed in there because all of my stuff is in bags and boxes on the bed. Isn't that funny? All of my things were already up off the floor, I packed everything up to move a few weeks ago, so none of my things got wet. There wasn't even anything under the sink.
So I'm thinking the maintenance guys must think I saw the water bust, got all my things off the floor, then casually left, like nothing happened.
I also melted a glass onto the stove at my sister's by turning on the wrong burner recently. And before that, I almost made her house blow up by turning on the water while they were doing a leak test, when the problem turned out to be the gas heater thing. It's a long story. They told me over and over again, DON'T TURN ON THE WATER, and of course I went in the bathroom and brushed my teeth. And I only did that because one of the leak test guys turned out to be someone who used to come in my old work, he managed a fast food place right next to my store, and he'd come in and I'd talk to him about vitamins. Small world!
One time I touched a computer and it blew a fuse or something, all I know is, I went up to it, hit enter, and it went black, and the ceiling tile directly above it fell out and onto the computer. I had to call the store owner. He asked how I broke his computer. I said all I did was touch it.
I have this thing with machines, appliances,etc etc. It's like an unspoken battle is going on between us. They are trying to do me in, make me look stupid. I am trying to show them that I, as a human being, have no need for them. Well, I do need them, but I don't respect them. I am superior, and they know my thoughts.
I will leave you with this fantastic blog on this fine day. You can thank me later.
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So I come home today and as I'm walking up to my apartment I see this industrial mess all around, and the apartment below me is all open and the maintenance men are hard at work. It would appear that they are replacing part of the ceiling. I think I might have something to do with this.
This reminds me of the time I was working at a vitamin store, it was back to back to a sports equipment place and a 7-11. One day the sports store owner walked over and said, Do you think you can stop flushing your toilet until they get the plumbing fixed? Each time you flush, your sewage floods OUR bathroom. I laughed. I had no idea there was even a problem with the plumbing, even though 7-11 got backed up all the time and caused issues for us. I called my store's owner and told him what was going on and he laughed too. Our bathroom remained dry. It just all went and messed up somebody else's life.
I wonder if blogging is sort of like that? Do you know what I'm saying?
So now my things are piled up in the living room. They're going to replace the carpet in here in a few days. I'm glad this happened because it seems like I've already moved. My room is no longer my little cave anymore. I remember the day we moved in here 2 years ago. I was still messed up with the brain infection and still sort of dim witted from the seizure medication. I still could barely go up stairs without getting out of breath. Moving day wiped me out, and the first thing I did when we came in was go in this room, find the closet, go in, shut the door, and lay down. Right there on the floor. I had to. My head couldn't stay awake. The mover guys were all over the place and I hoped they wouldn't come in here, but one did. He opened the closet door and there I was, asleep on the floor. He stood there with a puzzled look on his face. I was embarrassed but too tired to think too much about it.
So I guess you could say, I woke up in this place. This bedroom is where I woke back up to my life. I'm going to miss it. Or maybe not.
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Today I wasn't feeling so good, so instead of curling up with my blankie and taking a nap, I left for work way early and got me some new things, one of them being a new cute jacket, so I can finally toss the old nasty denim thing I've been wearing. I couldn't even wait to toss it in the dumpster. Instead, it got littered on a dark street on the way home. Right out my car window. It felt good. It landed on the corner so maybe some hapless, cold person will find it and like it.
I'm at war with myself again. I want to take off. I want to go away. Far, far away. What am I doing looking for an apartment nearby? Why am I conforming to a normal life? Why do I put these restraints on myself? My daughter is leaving for college this summer. She's heading south. Why shouldn't I? Maybe I can find me a little hole-in-the-wall dumpy apartment or rent house in some obscure town and spend my days off sitting at a lake somewhere, painting. I feel like I'm on the verge of breaking again, but in a good way.
Tonight the man with the puffy beard came back in. He said they have snakes where he's from, they come in the house. He said cobras come in sometimes. Can you imagine that? Instead of roaches or mice, you have cobras sneaking in? He said when they come in, you don't move. There's a way to deal with them but it's not by freaking out. The conversation began to creep me out so I excused myself.
Well here I am, back to blogging about nothing. Just like I said I wasn't going to do. Well I have a good excuse, my days of having an internet connection are numbered, thank goodness. I'm sitting here in my room, looking at my belongings piled up on my bed. Everything's packed. Where am I going? Does anybody know? Something tells me I won't end up where I plan on ending up. My spirit is pulling me in an entirely different direction than my brain is trying to go in.
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I had a conversation with someone recently, he's not a believer, which to me is a non-issue, I never considered it my business to discuss faith with him or debate with him or try to get him to see things the way I see them. Why? Cause I'm related to him. I love him. I enjoy his company and his conversation. We can talk for hours and laugh. That is until the topic of "religion" comes up.
He's pretty hostile about it. I shy away from discussing it, not out of fear, but to keep my own lid on. I think that if my own can of worms gets opened around him, it's sure to escalate. For now, I just prefer to lay low. I like to listen to his point of view on things, and it's educational for me to hear his opinions on why God simply cannot exist. Even though I disagree (and know he's wrong), still, I listen intently and try to see where he's coming from. I respect him and I show it. (no, I'm not talking about my father.)
He, however, has yet to master the art of giving the same in return to me. It's ok.
So in dealing with him, I've gotten a better perspective of where atheists are coming from. I understand. I also know that from a sensible human standpoint, the atheist point of view makes perfect sense. But I also have come to realize, they simply have yet to experience the spiritual.
This is something I brought up with my relative. He's really knowledgable in financial things, investing, the stock market, etc etc. This is a bermuda triangle area in my life. I have very little interest, knowledge, and understanding when it comes to finances. To me, it's as basic as this: go to work. Earn paycheck. Deposit in bank. Spend some. Save some. Period.
I suppose this is why I am nearing 40 years old and still have the mindset of a teenager when it comes to money. I'm smart enough to realize, it's due to my own ignorance. I pointed this out to my relative. I said, I have a feeling that if someone would have taken me by the hand and walked me through the ins and outs of money and investing and what-not, and taught me how to be successful with it, and maybe even enjoy it, and let me experience first-hand the rewards of making a profit- maybe then I would embrace it and want to learn more. But as it stands, I'm an outsider in that realm. I'm inept, I've tried and failed to get ahead financially. So I gave up, and I get by on the bare minimum.
He just stared at me and wondered why I was saying this.
I told him, I have a feeling this is how you are when it comes to believing in God. You simply haven't experienced the spiritual, or witnessed any miracles first-hand. You don't know Him. Your sensible mind can't fit Him into your own understanding, so you dismiss the whole thing.
I honestly feel that this is what's going on, big-picture, with atheists. They don't get it, so they throw the baby out with the bathwater- to hell with it all, it makes no sense!
After we had this conversation, the ridiculing tones from him ceased. But it really got me to thinking about it. Why are atheists so quick to mock and ridicule us? Does it make them feel superior? Do they think it actually helps their case?
I just want to let it be known that it's hurtful, and unnecessary. There's a way to debate and conversate without putting the other person down. If you really want someone to hear you out, watch your tone and treat them with respect.
I see this growing debate between atheists and believers, it seems to have gotten pretty nasty. I wonder if all the stress from the economy is making us all a bit tense.
I got some good insight from the guy I was talking with- he was raised in a legalistic, religious kind of way, grew up in a small town. He grew up and moved on, and I think he's associating God with his sheltered upbringing. I get it. I understand why he views believing in God as small-minded and ignorant. The problem is, he's quick to make others who believe feel the same way.
All I'm saying is, I think it's time to start listening just a little bit more.
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Ok I just have to tell you this. It's funny.
The other day at work this guy was telling me about his friend who keeps having dreams about mommies. I replied that that was cute. He said, that's not cute, it's creepy. I said, how is that creepy? It's sweet! He said that was wrong and I had a problem. We went back and forth like this for several minutes until I said, well I guess it could be creepy, depending on what's happening in the dreams, like, are they coming at him and wanting to change his diaper and stuff like that?
He looked at me in dead silence. Then it hit him. He blurted out in his thick accent: "MUMMIES!! I SAID MUMMIES, NOT MOMMIES!!"
I was like, ooohhhh!!!!! and that started me on an uncontrollable laughing spree that lasted for the rest of the day. I was laughing so hard my stomach hurt. He was laughing hard too. But it really got me to thinking.
About a lot of things. About death, and life. About old, and new. Wasn't Lazarus technically a mummy? And don't mommies bring new life?
wait
...I'm thinking, how beautiful! From a mummy to a mommy! It's symbolic of course, but you know what I mean? Do I really have to describe all my thoughts on it this morning or can you just go ahead and pull it all together in your own head? I'm only on my second cup of tea.
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(march 08)
Well of course I'd have a stomachache now. I saw it coming but I did it anyway. I didn't "fold box into platform" when I stuck my dinner in the microwave. The strangest thing ever. I had already ripped open the box and removed the contents, only to discover that you're not supposed to rip THAT box. No, this box is supposed to be folded into a "platform" upon which you place your thing (I still don't know what it was that I just ate) (I didn't buy it). You're supposed to follow this diagram and fold all the edges backwards and make a little table. But I had already torn the box, so I put the dinner back inside and stuck it in for the required 3 minutes. It was cold in some places but I ate it anyway. Now my stomach hurts. It was a WAIT I'll go read the box. Alright. It was a Flatbread Melts Chicken Ranch Club.
Nobody ever told me I'd have to know Oragami in order to eat. Same for those dinners that aim to control your thoughts by giving too many instructions, like the ones that say, "peel back plastic cover over beans, cut slit over entree, remove cover from apples,", but they don't stop there, it goes on to say, "after 2.5 minutes, stop, rotate, remove cover altogether, stir", then return to oven. I don't play that way. No matter what the directions say, like 3 minutes on medium and 4 minutes on high, it doesn't matter. I just look at whatever numbers are there, add them, and that's that. That's how long my dinner stays in, on whatever setting the oven is already on. I do not have an overflowing abundant supply of extra brain cells to dedicate to solving math problems in the kitchen. When I'm hungry, that's it, I need to eat, no time for dillydallying. I will not be ordered around by the Lean Cusine or Healthy Choice people.
What cracks me up is when I hear the phrase "your relationship with food." I didn't know it went that deep. What am I missing? All I know is, it's a burden. To feed something that's dying. Why do we spend so much time trying to keep our bodies going, when it's our souls that are eternal, but the food the soul needs is so elusive and hard to come by? And even when you find it, you still starve yourself? For example, I haven't prayed in about 48 hours. I'm already slipping. Getting hungry. And the Lean Cusine thing only tricks me into thinking I am fed for the day. SEE? Why don't you open your eyes and wake up for crying out loud. You're probably starving at this very minute. You think you want pizza, but what you really need is to pray. This is ridiculous.
I'm very average today. Actually I'm below average. I actually slipped and fell today, which hasn't happened since I was pregnant 17 years ago. It happened due to my slippery bathtub. I've been conditioning my hair alot lately with olive oil and coconut oil to compensate for it's length. I chopped it all off recently and it's ugly, so by making it smooth and supple I feel better.
So I fell into the bathtub when I was getting in, it was extra slippery today, and for a minute I was just stunned, it took me a second to realize what just happened. Then I started laughing. I wonder what the people below me think. They're a normal little family and both parents work, but sometimes one of them is home (cause I can hear them), and I wonder if they wonder why someone is always home up here. I bet they think there's something wrong with me.
About those people, I always know when they're coming home, cause I hear the kid screaming, and the mom has to shout, GET IN HERE!! ...as in, the kid doesn't want to come home? He's only 2 years old! How can a 2 year old not want to come home?
So about me falling today, I was thinking, IS THIS A SIGN????
So I started examining my life on many different layers and levels. I think I'm good for now. Oh! Wait! I just remembered. A tiny black spider was on the computer last night.
I have so much to say. Even though I'm done telling my experiences. See now I'm noticing new things about it all, and new twists and turns. My life is a puzzle, a matrix, a labrynth. I'm lost in a dream.
Speaking of being lost, I think that's why I love to blog so much. It gives me a connection, even if it's to strangers, folks I'll never meet (nor do I want to)... I think I'm much better at this than I am real-life connections. I don't know why. And I also have no idea why people read the stupid things I say more than the important things.
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