Monday, March 22, 2010

Bitter

Somebody pray for me.

Pray that bitterness and mistrust won't overwhelm certain friendships; that anger and frustration won't overwhelm certain partnerships; pray that I will find some light in this and some hope, and that I will find some faith to keep moving forward.

Because it seems like a pointless fight right now, the day after it all, and I am having a hard time moving forward.

Maybe it's too soon to even try. But even so, I don't want to get stuck here.

So pray for me, because I think I need it.

Sunday, March 21, 2010

Riled Up

Turns out I had just cause.

And being aggressively upset did me no good.

I'm going to go drink now.

Not Going To Lie...

...I've got my back up already.

It's going to be an interesting day.

Friday, March 05, 2010

Keeping The Faith

When I was a kid, I used to have recurring themes in my dreams. Usually the theme was pretty broad - violence was a common one, with either me killing other people or them killing me. Violent dreams never bothered me, not then and not now. Apparently I'm a bit of a freak that way.

For a while it was shapeshifting, only nobody could see me becoming the other, and my sheer belief wasn't enough to keep it real even for me most of the time. I can't begin to describe how frustrating those ones were...and still are.

And there was the phase of the chasing dreams, where I was being hunted down and only my belief in my invisibility would save me. These ones almost always worked, but that's because by the time these ones came along I had learned to lucid dream (by accident and desperation, mostly, so don't ask me how to do it because I really have no idea) and could control certain aspects of the dream to keep myself safe.

Recently - and by recently I mean the last year or two - I've had a lot of dreams where Darkness is out to get me. Now, I have a confession to make. I am afraid of the dark. Not terrified, but afraid, like a spooked and skittish lamb who's too curious to leave well enough alone in spite of the fear. I always have been afraid of the dark, and I've always refused to cater to that fear by using night-lights or leaving a hall light on or by doing anything to alleviate the fear except by ignoring it and telling myself that the dark is not there to hurt me. I used to go check on my full-to-bursting pregnant ewes at night and not use my flashlight until I had to actually see if their bodies were still round or not, as a sheer test of my nerve. Of course, I had my dog with me. That always helped.

But this Darkness, the Darkness in my dream, it is there to hurt me. It wants me and I don't know why. It is not just darkness - it's Darkness. Ecthroi, nothingness, all-consuming Darkness and it's evil and it wants me and I don't know why and it does more than scare me. It fucking terrifies me.

Most of the time I have a guardian in my dreams. A giant butterfly, a bird, a candle. An angel. Faith. Hope and a source of light within myself. Usually all I have to do is face the darkness and it recoils from the light it sees within me.

But last night - none of that was there.

I was alone, alone in the dark, with lost spirits grasping for me, sad and confused girls reaching from the walls, the dark a deep greeny-blue-grey dusk and there was no way out and there were no doors or windows. I couldn't see and no matter how hard I prayed or squeezed my eyes shut I had no light inside, no light outside, no guardian beside me to protect me or inspire me to find my own protection. Nothing.

It was the most frustrating, terrifying experience I can recall ever having. And I've seen an actual evil spirit.

And then light burst through but within seconds - not even seconds - I knew it was fake, it was a facade put up by the Darkness to fool me into letting down my guard and do you know how exhausting it was to keep that up? Fuck.

I felt myself fighting my way through the layers of dreams I was trapped in and finally was able to reach over and feel S. there beside me and in that I knew I was safe, he was real, he wasn't evil and he wouldn't let them get me, and with that the true light burst through the facade, the Darkness recoiled and I was left in my sleep in peace.

And then instead of falling into peaceful dreams, I turned back and prayed to God and apologized for finding safety in S. instead of in Him, and couldn't focus enough on the true light to finish my prayer before I was sucked away into another dream and gone entirely into the land of sleep once more.

At least it wasn't another terrifying dream. It was something mundane and normal enough I don't remember it at all and it didn't stick with me in any way.


Upon true waking, I find it interesting that I felt guilt for finally finding peace somewhere.

And I find it absolutely terrifying that I couldn't find the light inside myself this time.

What if it's gone? What if I can never find the light again?

What if the light is love and I can't find it in God anymore?

Then at least thank God I can find it in S. I can find the light somewhere. Maybe I shouldn't try to analyze this so hard. If I couldn't find the light at all I'd be screwed. I'd never sleep again.

And I should probably blame at least a little bit of this terror on the fact that I've been sick for 4 and a half days now and my mind is probably exhausted and fuelling my dreams with fever and confusion; but that's precious little comfort when the feeling of the dream is still stuck on my skin and in my mind like a mist from a fog that won't quite brush off me. Like spider webs I can't find but I can feel.

So I look up and see the face of the man who I can touch who I know loves me; and I take what I can from that and try to remember that God loves me so much more that I can't even comprehend it (which is the problem, isn't it? If I could comprehend it maybe I'd remember it better...) and try to keep the faith.

Whatever that means.

Thursday, March 04, 2010

Sick Sick Sick

God, I love having the flu.

Not really.

This one is kicking my butt. First with a fever (which I think is gone now for good, fingers crossed), then aches so intense I couldn't sit or lie down or move or stay still - nothing is comfortable when your hips and knees and ankles and wrists and elbows and neck joints all feel like you suddenly turned 99 overnight - which has been followed up with faucet-face and a persistent, non-productive cough. Oh, and did I mention the sore throat? It's been here for the whole ride. It's very loyal that way.

But I appear to be on the upswing so let's hope I'm all better in time for the weekend. After missing an entire week of work I'd better at least get something nice out of it.