An Update

So school has started again. Class was OK today, it was hot in there, which was the main reason it wasn’t better. I’m particularly sensitive to the heat, and I despise being hot. It screws with everything and just makes me feel ill. On a positive note we were doing the microscopes and tissues labs so I got to look at cool things like cells in mitosis.

I’m trying not to be freaked out over school. It isn’t more work than before, but now I feel more fragile than I’m used to. I’ve always been sensitive, but now I feel like I’ve completely fallen apart. I had a dream a couple of nights ago. I was in one of my rooms, it could have just as easily been the bedroom and probably was, and I was standing. Z was near me, walking around and talking to me. He might have been cleaning (he does that) and was wondering if I was OK or needed help. I told him no and started drawing up energy. Now, usually, drawing up energy is a disturbing thing. I don’t mean unnerving, it merely disturbs my equilibrium because it’s strong, foreign energy. My energy tends to be low key and fluid, like a bathtub. When it’s high or gets stirred up then it’s more like a small river. I rarely get superbly upset or enraged, so I couldn’t give an accurate metaphor. Perhaps a short storm, a lot of noise and water and wind that peters out quickly and ends with either sunshine or overcast. I sense my own energy as muted, either blue or green (I sense most peoples’ energy in these colors unless there are emotions involved).

When I do magic or energy exercises I usually gather energy from the earth (except for recently where I’ve been using heka), and it is very strong and dense. Since I still have issues grounding, it can leave me overstimulated for days. So, this dream having me do just that was weird. Normally I wouldn’t do such an exercise if I’m feeling unbalanced. However, in the dream the energy was extremely muted and warm. It wasn’t overwhelming, nor was it fluid, electrifying, sparkling (like pop rocks), or speedy. It was more like syrup or honey, a dark forest green and enveloping as opposed to expansive. As I pulled this energy from the earth I made sure to spread it out so it touched every fiber of my being. It was then I realized I was shattered. Like a mosaic, the energy was becoming the frame and scaffolding to hold the pieces together. I’ve never had such a dream before. I’ve never seen myself hurt or shattered or broken. If I’m healing, usually it’s someone else who is hurt.

Quite frankly, I feel the dream is very accurate. I dropped myself off a cliff and broke apart. I was already fragile and unstable; I make jokes about being delicate all the time, but I never really took it too literally. I don’t think anyone has. I made a joke when I got out of the hospital that my brain can’t even do abnormality right. With conversion disorders, typically the patient isn’t really aware of their internal psychological suffering. Sure, they know they’re stressed, but instead of being plainly overwhelmed, they get physical symptoms instead. I’m plainly overwhelmed and getting physical symptoms, so, even doing conversion disorders wrong.

On top of that, school is still going and one class is getting blocked. Apparently I need both of my anatomy classes to take it (the class in question being microbio). The problem is that I’m still in anatomy 1 and can’t take 2 until summer. I can’t register for micro bio in fall because it needs both. I can’t take micro bio by itself because I can’t afford to pay out of pocket for it and financial aid needs at least part time status, ie two classes. The solution is either wait until the end of summer semester and pray that there’s still a seat left, or get special permission from the dean to register. I still have things to handle with the office of disability and of course the classes I currently have.

Then I found out I owe a lot of money on my taxes this year and I’m just trying to focus on not falling apart again. While I wait for doctor’s appointments and try to coordinate my healthcare. Did I mention my mom has to fight with the insurance company because they denied coverage for my hospital stay? See, this is why I need to move to Sweden or Japan. Or Germany. Right now I’m reminding myself that other people, capable people, are handling some of these problems. I’m reminding myself to breathe, breathe because for asthmatics breath is a hard thing to come by and stress worsens asthma. Breathe because I cannot fall apart again. Not like I did, not worse. Breathe because I am anchored, somehow, in the earth.

In the dream Z was right there. He stood next to me and watched patiently as I slowly and painstakingly anchored myself together and to the earth with magic. I am certain he lent his own energy, he was holding me up at some point. He does this very palpably in real life as well. Without him I’d be a horrible mess. I have at least some internal stability because of his support, patience and his providing external stability. He reminds me that I shouldn’t worry about things I can’t control, and that he and others are here to help and take care of things too. The entire week of spring break I slept horribly. Only two days did I get enough sleep, and sleep at night. The other days I would only sleep between 2-4 hours. If I got a nap it was way too long because I was getting the other 4-6 I missed and it was very restless. He slept on the couch with me for three days when I couldn’t sleep and got up when I couldn’t sleep in bed until I could. Actually, I probably wouldn’t have slept at all those three nights on the couch if he weren’t there.

Nonetheless, at this point we could use some more blessings. Lots of them actually. And I need a new brain or something, because I’m tired of feeling sick and broken and depressed. Too bad you can’t update your mind so easily.

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A Short Poem

How could anyone remember
How can anyone forget
What it feels like to burn,
How it feels to disintegrate?

How can you know my pain
How are you aware
Of my endless suffering
And know the pinch of every hair?

Are you listening?
Can you see?
Do you feel?
Can you hear?

Is the pain in my heart too close
Or too near?
Is it far so you understand just with your eyes?
Is it too far for you to despise?

It’s eating my heart,
The flames will consume it
But how could they know?
They only see the reunion
Of acid and earth, whittling away at
Each other.
Murderous friends and blasphemous brothers.

Are you watching?
Can you smell it?
Is it acrid?
Are you jealous?

This poem is unfinished and subject to change

And the Coaster Never Stops

I’ve had this problem before. It isn’t new. I can’t sleep. Insomnia isn’t special, especially not in my family. Sometimes I simply suffer from an inability to sleep despite being utterly exhausted. Whatever, normal insomnia. Sometimes it’s from stress or anxiety, mostly normal insomnia. Then there’s this.

It burns. The way my brain is working friking burns. Like hot oil and water, when you toss that not wuite thawed piece of meat in. Oh it pops and snaps, it crackles and fizzes. My whole body is a fury. I feel a false trembling, a shiver that doesn’t exist. My skin crawls and my innards creep. I am not actually shaking, I am not actually itching. I just burn. It is hard to type this. My brain is moving faster than my poor fingers. Oh my sorrowful fingers, how they wish to be unfettered by the limitations of my nervous system’s reactions. If they could move like my brain! Sometimes my mind spins, my thoughts race and I see myself doing all sorts of things. Breaking shit, flipping shit. Climbing, running, hitting, punching everything until I break and bleed over everything. Throwing shit, and taking weapons to random passerby. Suicide, cutting, all sorts of “nice” things to do at 3 am right?

Sometimes I can’t sleep because I just don’t want to. I’m not ready for bed yet, even though my body craves it and I know I need it. Sometimes I stay up to the wee hours, wasting time on nonsense. Surfing chatboards or forums. Desperately searching for someone to be awake who can tell me that I’m not crazy, that I do have a problem and my doctors just aren’t listening. Because they’re not. Oh it’s not the drama of mania they say. It’s not so long or debilitating. Nevermind that there’s a such thing as dysphoric mania and hypomania, that it doesn’t always look exactly alike. Or that depression is the most common swing for bipolar 2. Forget that bullshit. You’re not way up in the sky, even though you’re agitated and cranky and have these nights, sometimes in a row. Because you don’t have the energy of a cracked out two year old and stay awake of your “own free will” there’s nothing special wrong with you. never mind the flying thoughts, racing around like greyhounds and pulling you in a dozen directions. Don’t think about being so anxious that you can barely sit still, or so physically and emotionally agitated that you close yourself in a room to avoid tipping off family to your dilemma. Or that it took you six tries to spell fucking dilemma and you’re an excellent speller!

Think nothing of using all your power to control your voice so you aren’t shouting or speaking as fast as your blazing saddle brain. Or wrapping your body with what little power you have over your mind to keep from fidgeting or pacing or running, or destroying. It all makes sense! You’re just depressed, just anxious, it isn’t mania. You’re not so fucked up after all! fuck you retarded ass doctors. Screw you for not seeing inside my head. How could you miss the sickness with your fancy scans and special questions? I’m only a fucking lunatic! I’m only in the right age bracket! There’s only family history of the disorder and disorders related to it and symptoms reminiscent of it! Now why did it only take me two tries to spell that nonsense but six to spell dilemma? Fuck this noioise. Oh it usually only lasts a few days. Once as long as a week. It wasn’t so deep before thouhg, not until I did the naughty naughty thing. In search of relief for depression I increased my zoloft without permission. Oh just so foolish of me. And now it burns. Gods it burns. And those gods are driving me crazy. So crazy. Who knows if it’s even really the,? Maybe I’m just hallucinating. Am I a crazy motherfucker or what? Kay Redfield Jamison chose an appropriate title for her autobiography as a bipolar woman. Touched by Fire. oh because that is what it fucking is. Fire. burn baby burn.

But sometimes I stay awake because I’m not ready for bed, or I can’t lay in bed because I’m not ready for bed yet because my brain or my body or both is saying avast ye fool! Rush around until you cannot! bleed your eyes and brain and everything on your soul. your soul is in your writing, you have to write! but then I can’t, because nothing can organize. and sometimes I can, and it’s brilliant! ah sometimes I’m so fucking brilliant, even when I don’t have the buzzing energy of a hummingbird on Ecstasy, but sim[ly the ragin agitation of a riled up rattlesnake. See? fucking brilliant. And yet somehow no one ever noitices. ever. ever. I’m so invisible in this world of people who care about me, because insomnia is normal for me and depression is too and no one ever considerst that maybe I’m not having a bout of normal but a bout of violent crazy even worse than wanting to stab myself out of torturous pain and sadness! because in this state my creative side goes into overdrive. tehre are all sorts of crazy ways to kill yourself, and I know so many. Isn’t that pleasant? because fuck this world right? screw this universe!

on monday I didn’t sleep too well. Most of this week I haven’t gotten quite enough sleep. Not enough. close to enough on some nights, not enough on others, not nearly enough nope. not my fault. not my fault. niggas in my head, maybe there, maybe hallucinations, keepin me up talkin. always yappin away. or i was talking to them because i couldn’t sleep and had nothing else to do. one of these nights i couldn’t even stay in bed. i got up and paced, put things in order because that was a better use of the uncontrollable need to pace. my poor z, worried sick about me. he’s loving and patient and kind. i couldn’t even tell him what was wrong. i have this thing where sometimes i can’t talk. the words just won’t come out, no matter how hard i shove them up my diaphragm and through my lungs and to my trachea and past my larynx. they get stuck right there at the good ole voice box. can’t move em for shit. not for shit. but i can write. and i do. so that’s how i get this bullshit out and spread it around to infect everyone i love with its stench. irony is only two people really see even part of the whole story. tellin others doesn’t seem to be worth it. i can’t even imagine what they’d say, probably get mad at me for not saying something sooner. I can’t even tell doctors everything. sometimes it’s a matter of forgetting, sometimes it’s a matter of fear or shame. sometimes it’s them words getting caught in my vocal cords, finding their way out through my little fingers. gods i am crazy. gods i an crazy. GODS I AM FUCKING CRAZY. i hate this shit. shut up brain and go the fuck to sleep, or shake your little nonsense out with the twist and shout. ya did it last week, what’s the harm in doing it again? ain’t that how these conversion disorders are supposed to work? random ass physical symtposm and i don’t even know i have stress! somatization for the win yeah? except even at that you suck. better than getting calleda hypochondriac. i have reasonable concerns about my health i think, since i was a sickly child. overprotected and babied and punched and yelled at and slapped and pressured. haha, the pressure in high school. go central go! you sure know how to make someone feel like a fucked up, stupid failure. it was easy and boring, it was tedious and hard, all at once! way to go for combinging the worst aspects of challenging and boring. yup, i love wasting so much of my life on homework and classwork alike. so fun for me. i loved being shamed for being smart and fucking up so badly. woot. best thing ever. can i kill you now, best high school ever? can i shoot you and burn you up and dissolve you in acid for noticing my abuse and lack of support? or caring about my weird rollercoaster grades? did that mean anything to you? were such inconsistencies signs of something? no? bueller? help? care? or were there just too many of us smarticle particles floatin up in that overcrowded school? best budgeters ever, like on the not sarcasm, cuz yall managed to have all your students have every physicla thing they needed to succeed. nice job, too bad you left out the psychological and emotional parts! because screw that! it’s totally normal for teens to be shit in the head! yup, totally normal, they don’t need help AT ALL. not all , it’s cool. totes cool, no prblems here.

NO PROBLEMS HERE.NONE.AT.ALL. FUCK PROBLEMS, TEENS DON’T HAVE PROBLEMS, EXCEPT THE ONES THY CAUSE THEMSELVES TIGHT?Riight? you can admit it, if teens listened to every adult and thought like adults and acted like adults all our special teen issues would vanish! except adults are pretty fucked up, and adult hood is horrifyingly disgusting. oh gods adulthood sucks asss. in hihg school they told me those would be my best years! that’s such messed up shit it’s not even funny, especially since being a teen is awful!!! horrible bullshit. why can’t i just be dog? i mean really, much easier life being a dog. get food, get kids, i mean really, what’s not to love? disadvantage to every life, but being a dog just seems nicer, easier, less complicated. repreating phrases in my mind, fuck this bullshit with a tine. gods i hate my brain, why can’t it just WORK  goddamit, work? it just flagrantly disobeys, knocking shit down and flipping shit over. bleh. bleh.

I’m sitting in this dreadful mire

writhing, seething, in desire

to not be touched by this fire.

i can’t escape, i can’t erase it

nor can it be confiscated

but in this room so bright and cheery

i can see my world get bleary.

is it spinning like a portal

or is it running like a paint whorl?

my mind is like the Starry Night,

shining blue, with yellow light,

and yet I cannot seem to stay

on this path that leads to day.

even if I could I see

the twilight coming speedily

and in this moment I realize

that Night Falls Fast upon my eyes.

Perspective

This morning I was thinking about the gods. I hadn’t slept too well last night and had told Anpu that he and Aset need to work their shit out and not do it directly over my head. I informed him that neither of them would get anything until they got their shit together. I mentioned lastly that I would deal with one of them leaving if it was absolutely necessary, but I would prefer that not to be necessary. I want them both around, but I refuse to be stuck in their bitch fight.

I also went about cleansing and properly warding my house. Now, I had cleansed last month, but my wards consisted of salting the windowsills and threshold. I went further this time, creating a sigil and adding the Wadjet to protect the doors, windows and mirrors. It was more successful than I had expected. A sneaky little spirit had come in and taunted me. In my rage I kicked him out and summoned more energy than I knew I could. I used said power as well as my pissed off mood to charge the sigils and erect a barrier and used heka to get even more. I’m certain that all this magic slinging is why I couldn’t sleep, especially since it was 2 am. Eventually Dapper just told me this ridiculous short story (which I’ll write up later).

This morning I was mulling over the conversation with Anpu. One of the things I had told him, besides to work on his shit, was what I wanted for myself. I told him I didn’t want to be a warrior. I was perfectly capable of being violent, but only when it was absolutely necessary, and I would do it more readily for others than myself. What I want to do is be support. I made a good case for it. Warriors need Support. Without Support a Warrior has no relief, no one to care for them when they come back from fighting, or heal them when they’re injured. Attackers without Backers lose their sight, they lose their boundaries and compassion and become cruel and unmerciful. That leads to isfet more often than not. A Warrior won’t break as easily with good Support. Someone has to do it right? Why not me? I love healing and helping others. It relates to my powerful desire to be a mother. Ever since I met some of my online friends I’ve wanted to support them. In this life, their mundane life, as well as their astral and spiritual. I reach out in any way I can, which is especially important since we’re all so far apart. I also warned that this was preliminary, I was just talking and hadn’t solidified things in my mind yet.

Anpu had simply nodded his head and walked away. He had listened completely. However, I went back to thinking about his constant bickering with Aset and I realized that Aset was at the disadvantage here. She had already been cut off and in theory Anpu could be grimy as fuck and threaten to put her out entirely or submit to his plans. And then come back to me and tell me she left of her own accord. I don’t know if he’d ever be so dastardly, but it’s still possible. I also realized that I would probably never fully have my way. A very deep part of me is still tralalaling over the gods and will continue to do so. I’ve always been a deist, I always will be. I set off on this path to get the relationship with a god that I’ve always wanted. The kind I’ve been jealous of. Even as I went about my morning, I felt that part of me reaching out despite the logical part of me slapping it back. No, you said nothing until they get their shit together. Then in the shower, even as I was thinking about how I’m already kind of angry and bitter I found myself singing the revamped Christmas song I wrote for Anpu.

I realized that, like a certain Sekhmet daughter, I wouldn’t get away. Something in me would always determinedly reach back, and Anpu would be persistent. For this entire year I’ve been on this path I’ve avoided thinking of myself as Anpu’s daughter. I didn’t want to get stuck in solipsism and had no proof. I knew I had initially sought him for stupid reasons and had been happy that he hadn’t rejected me. I couldn’t really tell how he felt about me though, but now I see that even if I wasn’t his daughter, he was intent on adopting me. And like being a daughter, you can’t escape your parents. Something of them always follows, and I don’t actually want to ditch him. As pissed off as I am I can’t reject him. Kinda like being mad at my parents. Sometimes when my mom is driving me nuts I think to myself “dammit you crazy bitch, don’t you know I love you?” Yeah, getting that vibe for both Anpu and Aset. Dammit you lunatic motherfuckers, why can’t you just get along and let me love and worship you in peace? But that would be too easy wouldn’t it?

Excited Kids and Battle Training?

So, last night was a bag of interesting. When Z went to sleep I figured I’d visit Dapper and his kids. He wasn’t in his house at the time, but his children were. They were excited to see me, mainly because I’m a better cook than the oldest one is. Said oldest one went right back to the question she’s been asking for four days: “Will you bring Z back over to play?” Before I could even answer a strange man came in the kitchen. My automatic response was to draw a weapon of course. He raised his hands in a half amused-half exasperated gesture.

“Who the hell are you?” I asked, sending the younger two into the next room and pulling the oldest to my side.

“Calm down, this place has a strong barrier around it. Anyone who doesn’t know where it is can’t find it, and it doesn’t let anyone it doesn’t recognize through.”

“Do you recognize him?” I asked the oldest.

She shook her head no and I pushed her behind me towards the next room. “Go call your dad.”

“I don’t think that will work. Pretty sure he’s out of cell range.”

I glared at him, then behind him, as if something was there. Eventually he turned around and I manifested a second weapon (both short swords) and lunged for him. But, of course, Dapper showed up in time to stop me. Startled both me and this stranger.

“Dammit Kenta, I have told you not to show up unannounced.”

“Heh, well I didn’t think your bitch could bite.”

Dapper gave him the evil eye, you know, the face that says “I’ll slay you right now”? Even the dragon (I’ll explain that in a little) seemed a little riled up. Kenta backed off and Dapper sent me in the other room with the kids. Said children were playing video games and I listened in on the conversation. Not that a pair of soldiers weren’t aware of me eavesdropping, but still, they spoke loud enough for me to hear.

“Are you sure you should be bringing her along?”

“As long as she doesn’t touch anything they can’t see her.”

“She almost got you killed.”

“She didn’t realize she was watching me. And I did stop her.”

“Wha-how the fuck did she not know?”

Dapper looked back at me peeking through the door and proceeded to whisper. As luck would have it, a certain wolf child decided that now was a great time to talk to me. Gotta love kids’ timing. Now, she didn’t just interrupt my listening, she was in my room. Like, I was in her room, and then she was in mine. It was a little startling, because it was daytime there, but it was night here and she’s just bouncing. She wanted to know if she could please, please, pretty please play with Z tonight. I’m like, uh, he’s asleep, it’s his mind and he’s a little spirit blind. He isn’t ignoring you, he just can’t hear you, so you’ll have to try extra hard to get his attention.

Well, she was up to the challenge. She started patting his arm and calling him to come play. Now, I have no idea why she was so intent on getting him to come back, but obviously she didn’t realize that the first couple times happened without his knowledge. Dapper eventually showed up to take her back, which was funny, because she actually had managed to get Z to stir. Poor thing was sad, but to make everyone feel better she said that he had come to play last night at some point. I have no idea how or when that happened, but hey, she’s happy.

Anyway, I should backtrack a little. I mentioned a dragon earlier, which I know is probably confusing everyone. I couldn’t tell you much about it, I just know that what I thought was a regular dream wasn’t actually that. In this “dream” I saw scenes of Dapper at a military base and in different places with a sniper rifle. Now, I have dreams about plots involving snipers pretty often because writer brain, so it was confusing that I couldn’t seem to control this one and that things were missing (like dialogue and transition scenes). Now, Dapper happens to look a hell of a lot like my main character, so the confusion is understandable. I saw him using his magic and with a dragon spirit. Said spirit was red and aggressive, but it listened to Dapper’s directions and would lend its magic for various purposes, including sniping assistance. That was interesting, because they would argue about who would get to shoot. Essentially it was a matter of “I have super dragon eyes” vs “I like sniping, fuck off”.

As the scenes jumped around I watched Dapper snipe several people and interact with another officer. He seemed to be able to see me, but they couldn’t. They were getting mad that he seemed to be ignoring them, and it also seemed like they were discussing training and new recruits as much as missions. I don’t really know, I was focused on Dapper and his dragon. I should mention said dragon is actually kind of small, not longer than four or five feet. Don’t tell him I called him small. Near the end I saw him in a cell, with a woman who was apparently a doctor. Yeah, they tortured him some. He kicked me out then because I tried to help and I woke up. Crazy shit.

That’s how we get to where we are now, back in Dapper’s house last night after Kenta had left and his daughter stopped trying to wake Z up. She was still a little unhappy that her father stopped her from pestering Z, but I told her that, if Z agreed, I’d see about trying to get him here on purpose while he was awake. That excited her, so we’ll see what happens. Dapper came out to find us trying to practice what we would do if we tried to get Z here. He called us weird and sent her off to play with her siblings while we talked. As usual I fell asleep shortly after that, because who cares about conversations?

Now, my real dream was very odd. It consisted of me, Z, Dapper and the Village Elder from frikkin Monster Hunter all gathering at this warehouse in the middle of a forest. The warehouse was almost totally reclaimed by the forest, with floors of grass and walls so infiltrated with vines and trees that it might as well have been entirely made of plants. There was a giant hole in the roof and a corresponding puddle underneath it. A school lunch table, also partly covered in plants, was near enough to the hole to benefit from the light, but far enough that it wouldn’t get completely soaked if it should rain. We all sat at this table and three people in military garb came up to us. I don’t really remember what was discussed, something about plans and a map and such. Then a monster blasted through a wall and into the warehouse. This had been planned, but Z and I didn’t know it. Dapper knew, but he wasn’t really pleased. Z, myself and two of the strangers went into action, we had to kill it. It was intense and scary, I had a bow and was the only distance fighter. I have no idea why none of us had guns, everyone had some archaic weapon. Predictably, Z had a pair of short swords. He likes the dual sword class in RPG’s and Monster Hunter.

We manage to kill this thing, but I had trouble. I’m actually a pretty decent distance fighter in RPG’s, but I don’t use a bow (I’m usually a healer) in games or IRL. That would be my sister’s class. I was terrified, and could barely aim or take the leaps necessary to get a better angle. Like, it was just a little too much like an anime. I dunno, maybe I played too much Monster Hunter last night. All I remember is Dapper telling me to stay calm and take a deep breath and focus. I also remember feeling awash in energy from behind me, ie, the sleeping Z. Sleep cuddles are apparently awesome for being warm and for protective energy. It was actually really distracting, because I kept half waking up. Methinks he enjoyed fighting the beastie.

Afterwards was this repeating sequence of me going to school on the bus. Now, this doesn’t sound too weird, except perhaps that it’s awfully calm after an epic battle. However, not only was I going to my high school, but even though it was supposedly 9 am it was dark out. Now, I don’t live in Antarctica during the winter, so even in the winter it’s light out by 9 am. However, despite being nighttime at nine, every time I got to school between 9:30 and 10 it would be daylight. On this bus ride I would be writing a blog post, including this one! Yes, I composed this in my dream and got up to write it for real. Now, the dream was realistic in that I was only going to school for my two lab classes, Chemistry and A&P. And like those classes the lab days were on Monday and Wednesday, though not at their real times. For some reason I always made it to Chemistry, but every time I went for A&P something got in my way and the teacher would lock me and any other latecomers out.

This went on for several “weeks”, where I would be on time, but then something would happen to keep me out of the room. The three or four times I made it was boring and full of being pissed at the teacher for finding ways to put me out. My IRL teacher would never be mean or cruel (in fact, she’s fucking awesome), but I just couldn’t seem to make it to lab. I made it to lecture, just not lab. In addition, my Chemistry teacher wasn’t the same either. IRL he’s a very extroverted and friendly person, while in the dream he was soft spoken and even a little shy. He would even let me leave a little early to try and make my A&P lab (which made no sense chronologically, but hey, who cares about the space-time continuum in dreams). I just couldn’t seem to get there though. Eventually I just gave up, I’d get a shitty grade anyway, no point in wasting so much energy on it. This is where the dream ends, with me on the bus to school and writing this blog post before Z waking up got me up too.

Normalcy, what is it?

Recent Developments

I am on Spring Break this week, which is good because I am tired. Tuesday evening I had a bit of a breakdown. Essentially I’ve been diagnosed with another psych disorder and was hospitalized for about five days. I’m home now, but it wasn’t fun being in the hospital. I have a bunch of follow up appointments to do and still have to deal with school. Once again, lucky for me this happened right before spring break. I still have to catch up on work, which is ok for now. My new challenge is to get a handle on my anxiety so this new turn in my life doesn’t break it apart. Anyone who suffers from anxiety knows what a struggle that can be at times. It’s hard not to get overwhelmed.

On a different note, Aset is back. She practically zoomed into the hospital room when Dapper finally found Her and told Her what was going on with my health. Ironically, it is now Anpu that is distant. I don’t know how that happened, all I really remember is all three of them being nearby while I was half conscious from the medication they gave me in the hospital. Specifically, I remember Aset running into the room and holding my hand, while Anpu and Dapper stood back. I’m pretty sure she turned around and yelled at Anpu, but I don’t know much more than that. I also had a dream-hallucination-whatever. In it a man with red hair and matching beard, styled very medieval-y, and in armor walked by me. He invited me to follow him and I did, to a humongous arena. The stands were full of people who were essentially mannequins. They all looked the same, especially the men, who were decorated in all manner of fedoras and vests and sports coats. Although the crowd was cheering wildly, and the stadium was literally brightly lit from the people as much as the sun the man wasn’t happy. He wasn’t unhappy though, but his armor shone and sparkled. I made mention of the ridiculous fanfare and realized this was no netjeru. He drew a large and glistening sword and I made more sarcastic remarks about fanfare. He rolled his eyes and made agreeing comments about how annoying this all was.

We made our way to a park, him all shiny and exuding light with his armor and sword, and he sat at a bench near some trees and a dark, narrow, overgrown path. He leaned back and sighed, swinging his arm and sword over the back, where their light was greedily swallowed by the shadows and darkened.

Apparently he walks in the light and kills in the dark, but sometimes he walks the dark and kills the light. I have no idea who this is, but I do know it relates to Zolfyer in some fashion. There were other images, including me “casting a spell” to create a barrier for myself. I very vaguely remember Z holding my hand, and other people were in the room as well, and I did the same thing, literally whispering gibberish to cast a barrier spell to protect him. He said that he was confused about that, because he had heard me muttering in a sort of quiet singing and couldn’t figure out if I was trying to say anything. I actually wasn’t. Even in my delirium I knew I wasn’t making sense, but there was still purpose and power behind it. I also yelled at something to quit walking and running around my room. Apparently I yelled that out loud because Z confirmed it.

I got back home on Saturday and slept for a good while. Probably a total of 12 hours, though not all at once. Sunday had my nephew and sister over with my mom. That was great, though I was still tired. Sunday night was fine, and it included Dapper’s daughter telling me I should bring Z back to play because “he’s funny.” Dapper stayed in the room for most of the night. I had a strange dream involving the Simpsons (a show I despise and never, ever watch) and this quest to get glass paperweights that smoothly magnified words. They were from the dollar store and I have no idea why I was so interested in having them. Nothing I was reading or trying to read was illegible without them. I also bought a hell of a lot of candy in this dream. Every time I was out I stopped in a store and bought chocolate and little, random things. This all was occurring because I was taking some sort of adult class. The most confusing thing had to be a particular person being in this class with me. She gave me a Country Crock container (yes, I’m talking about the butter brand) and told me this kickass quote that was from Aset. It had to do with being one and Her caring about me. I have no clue, dialogue is always lost, especially since I went flailing about without writing it down. Anyway, this country crock container is empty, and when I open it I can hear Aset’s voice and I realize she’d like a prayer-offering box like the one Anpu has. I write, sloppily, “For Aset” inside of it with a Sharpie and have held it since. Something happened involving this awkward Simpson’s theme and then I was in a forest.

A small creature (a tiny little Charmander) was being chased by three adults and their fully evolved dragon types (Garchomp, Tyrannitar and Salamance). They were chasing it because, and I figured this from a sign, the fire types in the forest needed to be culled (and preferably exterminated) because there had been a lot of fires. One of them basically used Surf and the poor baby Charmander got swept up and slammed into a tree. I caught it and ran off with it, finding a random ass table in a clearing (or maybe I manifested it) to try and revive it. For anyone who doesn’t know anything about Charmander, if the fire on its (and any of its evolutions) tail goes out, it dies. It’s a really cruel and painful way to kill it, especially a Charmander smaller than an infant. It was gasping as its tailfire sputtered out and I put all of my focus into relighting its flame and reviving it. I barely managed to save it and it gasped and coughed. I cradled it as the three men and their dragon pokemon came upon the clearing. I commanded my Pokemon (a Meganium) to kick their asses. It did, using a move called Dragon Tail (dragon types are weak to Dragon types) and by slamming them around with Vine Whip. My Meganium also attacked the men and then flung them all off into the forest. Did I mention that I wasn’t actually “me” in this part of the dream?

I don’t even know guys. For those interested, the Simpson’s nonsense in the dream revolved around this thought that Homer was a twin whose parents neither cared nor were interested enough to even give them separate names. Even their middle names were the same. It made no sense and was more than a little creepy, especially since the twin Homers were talking, naked infants and I had to find them after they somehow ran away. It was so awkward. There was also a short bit about Scratchy (and gods I really hate the Itchy and Scratchy Show) and that happened right after I saved the Charmander. My brain is so confuzzled. In the meantime, I’m just trying not to literally drive myself crazy again.

Blessings and Dreams

Saturday started off fairly plain. Z and I got up late in the day, around noon (well, that was me, he did his lark thing and got up around 9). We discussed going out, and we discussed the budget and we discussed taxes. We had gone food shopping and did laundry on Friday. We had a little extra funds thanks to his fabulous budgeting skills, extra hours at work for me and the generosity of my sister and grandmother. We also talked about our taxes, because ya know, tax time and all that. Of course, my mom calling me earlier prompted me to check our mail since she had mailed my tax forms to me.

Well, I opened the envelope and found the tax forms and a third thing. At the same time, Z was paying our bills and went to check the car insurance.

“What the hell?”

I got up and walked around to his computer. “What’s wrong?”

“Umm, the bill is different.”

I looked, the number was fifty dollars lower than last month.

“What the fuck?”

“Yeah, I know.” Z said as he clicked around the website to find the recent statement.

The statement said the premiums went down because of his age. Well. To say we were happy is an understatement. We hadn’t been expecting that in the least. There was no indication that it would change, and we didn’t think it would until he turned 25 this year. Nice thing to be proven wrong about. I went back to continue opening my mail and Z took a look at the mysterious letter from my school that my mom had included in the envelope with my tax documents.

“That’s a check.”

“No it’s not. Why would it be a check?”

“I don’t know, but it looks like every check I’ve ever seen from a school.”

“I really don’t think it’s a check. What would they be sending me a check for?”

I opened it. I really should listen to him more. Cuz it was a check. For a pleasant number. We were very happy about that. We immediately started parsing out what we could use it for. There were things we hadn’t been able to get when we moved in. There was still a few food items left on our grocery list (and quite frankly there still are). We made a plan, and we promptly left the house to implement it.

Thanks to the extra money we have a new shrine table, big enough for both of us. Z is going to write about that and post pictures (if he ever squashes his inner designer and becomes satisfied with his wordpress long enough lol) as well as pictures of our rearranged bedroom. We also got a lamp, a computer desk for him, a coffee table and matching end tables. The coffee table and end tables were ones we had seen before, but they were way too expensive, but on Saturday we got them for less than 200$. It was sweet. We also got a statue of Anpu for me, and some personal things that you people don’t need to know about. With another magic check we could get a futon for the den and more pots, pans and baking pans, and maybe a table for the kitchen!

Everything went so perfectly on Saturday, even when we thought we had gotten screwed, that we’ve joked we should play the lottery with 3-8-14 as our numbers. Of course, we couldn’t everything done since we had such a late start to the day, so we went back out on Sunday and acquired more items (one of which was my statue). It was so nice. We also have two houseplants, Douglas and Dennis. They sit on the space we made for Dapper now that we have a shrine table. And yes I did give Douglas his name because Dennis and Dapper were already there. It is the table of D (which sounds really wrong XD). Pictures of them will appear eventually.

We also put all this furniture together, and we got some items for our akhu area. Luckily the table we bought to serve as a shrine has a second shelf, so my items for Elysia and items for Z’s great grandmother are there. And yes my cat is on my akhu shrine. It looks really nice. Z is enjoying praying with me, and I really enjoy him next to me. We still haven’t figured out who is poking at his brain (and Anpu seems to know, but won’t tell me) but it’s ok I think. As an amusing side note, I remembered that some of the gemstones I have are perfect for dreaming. Z complains sometimes about not having dreams or being unable to remember them. For an experiment I took my hematite, amethyst and lapis lazuli stones and put them under his pillow (with his permission) and this morning he told me about this vivid dream involving a little bird of fire that reminded him of a Pokemon.

He proceeded to make jokes about magic beads and magic beans. Essentially I should expect a magic dream beanstalk in the morning if he drools on them. Isn’t he silly? I mentioned that it could easily be a fluke, he does occasionally remember them. I also plan to put some more of my protective stones around. I had a very unpleasant dream last night.

It started off frustrated. I was being forced to take high school english and pre-calc to qualify for the next two college classes I needed. Nevermind that I passed both classes with good grades IRL, but the classes in question weren’t even 100-level college courses, these were like, 300-level. I don’t get it, but gods was I pissed off about it. Not only do I have to take this absolutely ridiculous nonsense to get into a junior level college class, but I couldn’t remember a lot of the pre-calc stuff and teenagers annoyed the shit out of me when I was a teenager. Now that I also realize how much of an emotional little shit I was (along with how awesome I was) and realize how prickish and shitty some teens can be even more, I can’t stand teens. And the teens in the class I was in? Gods I had never met such obnoxious little dicks. (Can you tell I was unhappy with this dream from the start?)

The teacher was very patient with me. She understood why I was frustrated, and understood the annoyance with the immaturity of the kids in the class. She reminded me of things I had forgotten and really smoothed the path. I stayed in the back of the class, quiet and focused. One boy in the front, he was clearly the best in the class, but he talked a lot and was extremely condescending to other students. For whatever reason the teacher made me change seats for a little while. I can’t remember what it was. Anyway, she asked me a difficult question that even the smartass didn’t really get. Essentially it was a question that only I could answer, because I was the only one who had the life experience and complex understanding to answer it. Not that anyone realized that because I can easily pass for a teenager in looks.

Anyway, I answered the question in depth and started a dialogue with the teacher and some of the students. Well, Sir Smartass had to butt in.

“Geez, would you shut up? You’re always fucking talking.”

I snapped on him. “Why don’t you shut up? I’m always in the back listening quietly. You’re the only one who talks so fucking much and thinks they know everything.”

He merely glared at me and I turned back to the teacher. Then time skip and it was nighttime and I was outside the school talking to the teacher. She was assuring me that I would be ok and soothing my rage at the insolence of the teens. She also talked to me about the test, saying that she was sure I’d do fine and get into my class. At this point a car pulled up and parked in front of the school. A man in vibrant African-like clothes walked past us and greeted us. We half ignored him before finishing our convo and the teacher going into the school. The man came near me as I started to walk away and said hello. I made a vague and only half polite greeting before he grabbed me.

Well, obviously I started screaming at the top of my lungs. He just laughed and laughed as I kicked and screamed and flailed. I knew what was going to happen, he was a human trafficker. Don’t ask me why I knew this, I just did. For whatever reason no one came to help, the street and the sidewalks were empty and I was screaming everything they teach you to scream when you’re getting snatched. You would think since my teacher had gone inside less than a second ago she would have heard, but no avail. Eventually I even tried biting and scratching my assailant. That didn’t work, no matter how hard or viciously I bit him his skin didn’t break or anything. He just kept on laughing and carrying me down the street. I don’t know why we didn’t go to his car, but I’m glad we didn’t.

Eventually we came upon some traffic, and by now I was getting frantic and exhausted. One of the cars stopped and I begged him to help me. For some reason I recognize this particular person’s face from real life, but I couldn’t place the name at the time. He flung his passenger door open and I managed to break free of the kidnapper and get in the car. My savior pulled out a gun to keep the kidnapper back and drove off. I was so exhausted that I barely heard him ask me if I had anyone to call before I passed out. I know I told him to call Z. I woke up in this guy’s apartment. He hadn’t touched me. He told me I should call my boyfriend again. Out of nervousness at being alone in a strange man’s place, everything I said included a reference to my having a boyfriend. I didn’t call Z, he did. I don’t know why. I also don’t know why I changed my clothes, but the guy had spare clothes out for me and allowed me to go back to sleep. I vaguely remember Z coming in and talking with the guy. Discussing me and what happened, and Z thanking him before coming in the room where I was dozing. The next clear thing I remember was being with Z and one of our other friends. Us and the guy were going to the airport to go somewhere. Apparently they all knew each other, but I still couldn’t connect the right name to this person’s face, but I knew (and know) that he is someone I know IRL.

It was disconcerting. I never had a dream like that. Most violent dreams I have are not at all possible IRL, but this one was too plausible. It also disturbs me that I wasn’t more cautious around this strange man at night, on an empty block. I don’t even know what would have happened if he had gone to his car or that person hadn’t helped me. We were in traffic in the middle of the street and only one person opened their door to help me. The kidnapper didn’t even have a weapon, he was just insanely strong and impervious to biting. I’m just hoping I don’t have another dream like that. I may need to start carrying weapons.

Anyway, Z is now bugging me to go to bed. Peace out yo.