The magic of dreams

For the last week my life has been so amazingly stress free that apparently my brain has decided we need to create drama. In the form of dreams. I have been calling them nightmares but really they are dreams of people that are gone and or have never been.

I am pretty good at letting life roll because really, what choice do we have. We can rage against all of the things that happen that are "unfair" or just roll with the punches, learn the lesson we can from events, and then move on. In all fairness I don't think I know of any one person who has had life just happen along uneventfully for them. If they have, the events of life WILL catch up and I hope for their sake they have a bunker prepared for their own mental well-being. As a second point of fairness, I am not stating that rage isn't a deserved response to these moments either. We are humans and whatever you feel, right or wrong in someone else's eyes, is your emotion to own.

That being said, my subconscious mind has been a cruel and selfish bastard. All of the life crap I put on the DO NOT THINK ABOUT list because to dwell upon that which you cannot change is a futile waste of energy and life force that can be better spent on LIVING, my mind had other plans. I spent the week having dreams that have left me tired and feeling old beyond my years.

My father has been deceased for going on 20 years. I miss him every day but obviously life does go on with or without our approval. I have taken the values and lessons he gave me and have tried to live by them, and even being in my 40s, hope that I have made him proud with the person I have become. For at least two nights in the last week he was in my dreams. Dreams where nothing I could do was right and I felt the bitter disappointment from him in the dream. Saturday night was a bonus mental abuse night. I dreamt about my  brother who is also deceased, who was the closest person to me ever. I don't say that to make it sound like I keep people at a distance, but he was my best friend in every sense of the word. It was very hard to dream about him just because it ignited the longing of loss. But my brain was not done with me by a LONG shot.

I got to dream of a child that I just KNEW was mine. (I had a medically necessary hysterectomy 3 months ago and have never been able to have children.) I thought I was quite OK with the fact that motherhood never happened for me. Apparently I was not. Apparently I had to have the self-torture of picturing a little girl with her father's black hair, and light eyes. She had my devilish little smile, and she smelled like little girl and sunshine. She curled up in my lap and let me rock her to sleep while I visited with my brother.  Needless to say I woke up exhausted and emotionally battered.

I am relieved to inform you, dear reader, that my psyche took a break last night and let me sleep a dreamless and pain free sleep. I woke up feeling mostly rested and not at all like I needed to hide behind my pillows today. No urge to cry over what might have been, or what has been and is gone.

I find the workings of the human mind exhausting, Especially mine. When I am in my Manage the World mode I am on autopilot. Apparently when I switch to manual all of the doors fly open in the asylum and it is anything goes? Well at least it makes for interesting if bizarre introspection.


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