Exhale. Inhale

The words are strange to my mouth, "I haven't felt like writing". 
The statement is even stranger to my ears.

I've written all my life. Before I knew how to write I scrawled lines of pretend cursive on mom's note pads or any other piece of paper I got my hands on.

I wrote about dreams. I told about places I'd been or something I'd seen that sparked my curiosity. Often I expanded upon interactions with friends and/or animals subconsciously adding plots. Periodically I took inspiration from TV shows and wrote an episode or spin-off. 

As I grew older writing became an emotional outlet. Poetry or prose, it really didn't matter as long as the act of putting pen to paper eased the "too-full, going to burst" sensation in my head. Then when I moved to writing on the computer there came the added bonus of hitting the delete key symbolically eradicating the pain from existence.

Writing has always held a major role in expressing my creative nature. I also: paint, draw, sew, bead and play several musical instruments. While these are great hobbies, they are limited by location, time and space.

This has been a very difficult summer. It has been an extremely sad summer. For the first time in years I've actually wished to be back on OCD meds so my brain was wrapped in layers of cotton. Ok, while that is a true statement, it is not quite the full truth. I have no desire to live in a haze ever again. This has just been one unrelenting summer. I barely had caught my breath and wiped my eyes before the next sad news phone call hit.

Since the end of July I've had to make a conscious effort to breath: inhale, exhale, relax while conducting business. I haven't made it through a day without crying multiple times.

Now here I am days before making [another] major move across country and I should be excited. I can talk a good game. I can pretend there's all sorts of things I'm looking forward to seeing and doing. All the preparations have been made and route west has been mapped. But raw emotions make it difficult to see beyond loss and regrets.

Exhale; blow nose, wipe eyes
Inhale; focus on the horizon

Exhale; accept that I did my best
Inhale; carry the love, leave the regrets

In case you're wondering why I put exhale first it's because when sad things happen one after the other we tend to hold our breaths waiting for the next wave to knock us. You have to exhale in order to inhale. I feel like I've been holding my breath for months. Even though I've been crying everything inside of me is bottled up. So much has happened in secession I'm waiting for another shoe to drop.

Exhale; release what I have no control over
Inhale; grasp opportunity

Exhale; free the emotional log jamb
Inhale; start writing again.

Believe what you will

Yesterday I received an email that made me sigh and shake my head.  Apparently my weight is not limited to the physical, I weigh heavy on some people's minds too.  Whoever said "out of sight; out of mind" must have led a boring reclusive life.  Obviously he or she did not have my family. 

It used to be that I could be baited into protest of my innocence as to whatever it was thought I had / had not done, or of the label slapped upon me. 

Then I wised up and stopped reacting to frantic people. 

I am comfortable being me.  While basic common courtesy is appreciated, I have no need for other people's acceptance or permission.  I am me. 

Sad to say my initial response to yesterday's email was "here we go again" and I geared up to set the record straight.  However, doing so would be regrettable.  For me it would be a huge step backwards.  I perfer to keep my feet moving forward.

When I prepared to embark upon my sojourn I realized mental baggage had to go.  I had to let go of the codependant doctrine and accept me for who I am.  Applying Feng Shui to my mental house was not that easy.  There were many shadows and echos of fears and resentments.  Odd how comfortable these once had felt even though they were killing me.  I guess it's sort of like hoarding.  I had collected fears and resentments because negative emotion / actions was all that was being offered.

I have been working deligently for several years now to open my mental house to sunlight and fresh air.  The last thing I desire is to fall back into old habits. 

So in response to the email - thank you for thinking of me.  As for the question you raised - please feel free to go with whatever conclusion(s) make you comfortable.  Opinions are subjective.  In actuality judgments reflect the judge.  I will not revisit the past or answer for someone else's point of view.  Been there, done that; I've moved on.

I am comfortable being me. 

Zombies on the Roof

I fixed a bite to eat, grilled swiss cheese and ham sandwich, steamed asparagus and a lovely salad.  D*O*G of course was shadowing my every move around the kitchen and then into the living room.  The human has food.  No sooner than I got settled and the television on than Tommy, the cat, leapt to the right arm of my chair.  This action prompted Holly, my dog, to close in on my right knee allegedly to keep an eye on the cat.  In reality she was scoping out the plate to see if there was anything she wanted.  

You know it's like to eat with three sets of eyes intent on the movement of the fork?  Each of them practicing mental telepathy to convince me to share least they waste away in hunger. 

The dogs are worried the cat will help himself to something off the plate for he is closer.  D*O*G who had been sitting on my left foot runs out of tolerance for the cat and launches an attack.  Now I have the cat on the back of the chair trying to reach around to snag a bite before I get it.  My dog temporarily has retreated to the other side of the ottoman.  However, as she has decided she WILL get part of my sandwich she is doing her best to maintain eye contact.

And then the aliens arrived.  Brilliant flashes of light followed by rolling booms announced their descent into Earth's atmosphere.  Window panes rattled.  The whole house shook.  D*O*G ran in circles barking.  Holly stood up, looked around and took up position in front of but not facing me.  Meanwhile Tommy dropped back down onto the arm of the chair and tried to act like he was not pressing up against me for protection.

More aliens arrived.  One of their ships hit something. The crackling of the impact made all four of us wince.  D*O*G took off racing around the house barking shrilly.  Despite not having claws, Tommy had a death gripe on the arm of the chair.  Curious of what got hit, I set my plate on the breakfast bar and went to look out the windows.  About this time D*O*G determined he needed to go outside to fight the invaders.

I tried telling D*O*G it was lightning and thunder, right over head.  I told him he didn't want any part of what was going on outside.  But he's too short to see out the windows so he wasn't convinced.  He was positive we were under attack. 

Huge raindrops began to fall.  What looked like a solid wall of water marched through the development.  In no time we were encased in hazy gray darkness.  A thousand mini hammers pounded on the roof.  D*O*G tried enlisting Holly to go out with him to repel the aliens.  Her attitude was "mom has ham and swiss cheese; the aliens will have to wait". 

Most often storms like this are accompanied by strong wind.  This one was different.  There was hardly any wind thus making it very slow moving.  My gosh can it rain in North Carolina!  Hey, I'm from Oregon.  I know about rain.  But out here it rains hard and fast sort of like Oregon's coastal squalls.  My cell phone began chirping with National Weather Service alerts for flash floods.  Apparently D*O*G believed the alerts were a call to arms.  Since Holly, who is tall enough to see out the windows declined his recruiting efforts, D*O*G turned his attention to Tommy.

Lightning flashed.  Thunder boomed.  The house shook.  Windows and pictures rattled.  D*O*G and Tommy ran back and forth between the entrance hall and dining room, one barking and the other making clicking noises.  Holly and I just watched them.

A bit later I stretched out on the bed to read with Holly at my feet.  Having worn himself out, Tommy curled up next to me for a nap.  Finally D*O*G came into the bedroom and flopped on the floor.  For a few minutes, inside at least, it was quiet. 

I do not know what Tommy said to D*O*G but suddenly they were off racing around the house again.  A new sound caught my attention.  Figuring I'd best see what those two were getting into I stepped into the hall.  Two black bodies came rushing by.  Tommy missed the turn the slammed into the leg of an occasional table.  As I bent to see if he was ok my eyes caught a glimpse out the window.

Oh dear; the aliens have unleashed zombie hordes.  They marched acrossed the lawn and onto the roof.  The din of their assault was incredible.  Holly poked her head out of the bedroom to say "this doesn't sound good.  Maybe I should help D*O*G mount a counter attack."

First I took Holly to a window and said "do you see what that is?  You don't want any part of it."  Then I opened the blinds in D*O*G's room and put him up on the bed so he could see.  I swear I saw that dog's eyes grow wide.  "That is hail.  It will hurt you.  There are no zombies on the roof."  Tommy didn't believe me.  He hid under a quilt.  D*O*G remained standing on the bed growling under his breath.  I'm pretty sure he didn't believe me either.

I am pleased to report we suffered no damge during the alien attack.  The zombies failed to make it through the roof. 

Change the Channel

Back when I was working as a nurse I used to have dreams about driving.  To an extent these dreams made sense as I was young, had a steady paycheck, a nice car and was always heading some place seeking adventure.  Most often in these dreams I'd be cruising down the freeway with a destination in mind.  However, as I approached the exit the ramp would be closed.  Figuring I could take the next exit and circle back, this wasn't a problem.  But the next exit ramp was blocked with large orange and white barrels too.  Continuing on down the freeway I'd start fretting time or the uncertainity of what surface streets to take to get to my destination.  Exit after exit would be closed.  Or I'd be stuck in an inside lane unable to change lanes due to traffic.

I had variations of this dream for years.  Sometimes the setting was rural.  Other times I'd be driving a loop around a city like Seattle or Los Angeles.  I never reached my destination.  The real pisser was, often I could see where I wanted to go from the freeway.

One day my dentist pointed out none of these dreams take place in Portland, Oregon which was where I lived at the time.  He found that interesting.  He theorized Portland was exempt because of how well I knew it.  Portland is an easy city to get around in, there's always another road.  Dr. Jerry suggested the next time I have a driving dream, instead of getting stressed I should alter the setting to Portland or tell me to drive on to Portland.

It took a bit of practise but gosh darn, it worked!  I ceased clenching my teeth and waking up in pain.

My dad used to dream he was falling.  Night after night he'd plunge off a bridge, building or viewing ledge.  Sometimes he'd be falling towards a busy street, or waves breaking on rocks, or the bottom of the Grand Canyon.  Dad would jerk awake before impact.  In complete panic mode he'd first assess he was still alive and then he'd lay awake for hours.

A friend suggested Dad imagine he was flying instead of falling.  Dad tried but once he was falling and terror set in he found it difficult to break into the dream.  Then, courtesy of a cartoon, Dad discovered the trick.

While his method did not halt Dad from having the dreams it did put an end to the panic.  And it drove Mom nuts for the next thirty years.  What did he do?  At the point in the dream as he is plunging over the edge Dad first used his hands to turn his body so that he was falling feet first.  Then he flapped his feet like he was swimming until he returned to the ledge or bridge or rooftop. 

I know a lot of people, myself included, who use the "change the freaking channel!" method to break out of bad or stressful dreams.  With television being a major part of our lives, this is amazingly easy.  You don't like what you're watching - change the channel.   

Our brains are wonderful things. They will latch onto the absurd.  My friend Shirely yells "ollie, ollie, oxen free" to get out of scary dreams.  A big Star Trek fan, Josh orders the holodeck computer to end program.  Another friend discovered merely saying "this is dumb" works for her.  Rosemary gets a bit more creative.  She evokes the power of the word "Calgon".  Remember the commercials "calgon, take me away"?  I like it.  It doesn't work for me but I still like it.