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Nightmares VS Bad Dreams
When you are sensitive, every day has the potential to be a nightmare. The more people you interact with, the more potential to be impacted in ways that you cannot control. Even the things you can control have the potential to send you off the deep end.
Things like dreams and goals.
I grew up believing that I could do ANYTHING! I thought about being a star on Broadway or a best selling author (imagine that!), but I also considered teaching as something more practical. Really, all I wanted was to be a good wife and mother. I escaped from extreme shyness and learned how to act and sing in front of an audience both large and small. I even became a pre-school teacher, deciding that was the age to best influence people's lives.
All the while, I couldn't understand why I couldn't find a suitable partner. I even flirted with the idea that I didn't require one. After all, I was the child of a single parent, but being a single parent isn't ideal, nor did it suit my goal; I wanted a relationship that was like what I saw in my grandparents.
I didn't realize that, not only was their relationship unique, but I was molding myself into something I really wasn't. I am not extroverted, and yet I was something of a social butterfly, because that's how you found a suitable partner. I am not a conformist, yet I was fitting in with whatever was going on around me.
Yes, I was extremely malleable. I tried on all kinds of new hats, trying to find the me in the mirror I liked best, but the me that attracted attention, was not the me that I was comfortable with. But I had a dream, and if I couldn't be impractical, at least I could be simple. I didn't have to sing on stage, but I did need to make a house a home.
I also needed to make money. Then I found Mr. Right, and I needed to impress his friends and family. These things are part of our current culture. I found myself focusing on how much money I could make, and we all got excited when I was making nearly my age in salary, as well as getting phone calls in the middle of the night and charlie horses in my stomach. I think this was the beginning of the end.
I had overcome a lot of things just to grow up. My DNA predisposed me to being "emotionally unstable" then the perceived mistake of a single parent had me in an abusive situation for 13 years. Debilitating migraines had been overcome, only to be replaced with other stress-induced disorders. Still, I had a lot to give, much of it BECAUSE of the exact experiences in which I grew up. I needed to bear fruit; I wanted to be as good a mother as I was a wife.
We through caution to the wind, and became business owners. I became a god-mother, again, and I even was presented with the opportunity to care for one of them in my home. I was at last on the road to accomplishment, and even better, I had begun to take seriously the impact I was having on those around me. How many people do you know who would hang out at a lingerie store so they could talk about religion? I felt I was doing well.
Then my little world started slipping away. I did not yet realize that my experience with death had built up to my crowning moment-loosing my Papa; no one would ever love me more than he did, unless maybe it was my own child. Everyone thought I would fall apart. Yes, it was a nightmare-the sweetest nightmare ever formed, as I lead the family in laughter as we waited for him to leave us. It was a good death.
Although a new dream had begun to form, I was still focused on the one that had kept me going; I wanted to be a good wife and mother. To be a good daughter/granddaughter/cousin/friend was not enough. I had more to give.
So we closed up shop and returned home where I attempted to conform to every kind of rule. From providing an appropriate income, to keeping the house in top shape, to caring for Grandma Vi and the rest of the family, I was focused on conforming to the expectations of others. Then came the pain.
Did you know pain can be glorious? Pain is the way our body and spirit speaks to us. It is through pain that we know we are in need, rather it is the need for medical attention, or the need to change something in our lives. It took nearly a year and a half to put a name to my pain, and another 6 months before I understood it. During most of that time, I just wanted to die; medication made me consider it as a real resolution. I knew enough to know I needed help, but the wrong kind presented me with my worst nightmare to date. This from a rape survivor.
That was what I held on to; that I was a survivor, not a victim. My dream of being a good wife and mother fell to the way side as I concentrated on how to just be a good me, whatever that was. I wasn't quite sure who I was any longer, but I knew I was a survivor. I took an abusive childhood, and from those experiences, worked with "problem kids" in pre-school and taught their other teachers and their parents how to care for their unique needs, instead of making assumptions about them. From being raped, I was able to council others when they were afraid to even speak on their personal experience. I could take this newest nightmare and turn it into something else as well.
So I started writing. My situation is not unique; we all have nightmares that present themselves, even if they come in different forms. What I had that was unique was my perspective. My first 5 years were spent in a dreamland where there was no pain, then I discovered the real world is primarily nothing but pain. Because of who I am, I can find the gems of light in the darkness of life.
The real darkness is in the fact that I am still childless. There are some who would say that is God's punishment for my instability. There are some who would say that I don't deserve a child that I cannot pay for when I cannot even pay my own way. Maybe they are right.
Or I could accept that my dream may have just been a bad dream. It is not appropriate to judge your life against the standards of others, and that is where that dream came from. I wanted what my grandparents provided me in those first 5 years, but I wanted to do it better. That is not right, not for me.
When I lay my life in front of me, bare to the darkest facts, I see what an amazing blessing my existence is. From my human eyes I do not see how I have survived, but with they eyes of my spirit I see how all those nightmares added up to an amazing dream.
I do not have what it takes to be a good wife and mother. I am so wrapped up in the lives of friends and family, that a child would be neglected. Or, if I doted on my own child as so many years of waiting makes probable, I would not be able to give so much to friends and family. Even my husband has had to share me with what we jokingly refer to as my "flock".
But I have been blessed with understanding. Not everyone in the world understands me, nor do the people who say they love me understand me. My husband probably understands me less than most people, but he gives me understanding by allowing me to care for the things I see as priorities; none of which are money.
Life is still a nightmare more often than not. If I am not personally having a problem, then someone I care about is; usually there are multiple problems at once. This existence is a difficult one, but by working so hard at it, I have found the true value in it.
I do not need to be a good wife and mother. What I need, is to be a good person; to do my best with each moment that presents itself, and care for those who are in such greater need than I. Not everyone knows they are loved. Not everyone knows how to love themselves, especially when they are acutely aware of their perceived flaws.
I could let such a lovely dream die. Some people let their desire for a child kill them. Some people let crushed dreams make them bitter. That is not the way of a survivor.
You see, I am an excellent mother! I have not had to bear fruit of my body before I help a new born child with love. I have not had to ground a teenager to understand the angst of parenting. I have given of myself openly and freely to loved ones who needed it. I have even given to strangers, because the spirit moved me. I have cared for others physically and emotionally until I was nothing but ash. Yet from the flames of destruction came a renewed life, one that I have now given to you, my dear child.
Things like dreams and goals.
I grew up believing that I could do ANYTHING! I thought about being a star on Broadway or a best selling author (imagine that!), but I also considered teaching as something more practical. Really, all I wanted was to be a good wife and mother. I escaped from extreme shyness and learned how to act and sing in front of an audience both large and small. I even became a pre-school teacher, deciding that was the age to best influence people's lives.
All the while, I couldn't understand why I couldn't find a suitable partner. I even flirted with the idea that I didn't require one. After all, I was the child of a single parent, but being a single parent isn't ideal, nor did it suit my goal; I wanted a relationship that was like what I saw in my grandparents.
I didn't realize that, not only was their relationship unique, but I was molding myself into something I really wasn't. I am not extroverted, and yet I was something of a social butterfly, because that's how you found a suitable partner. I am not a conformist, yet I was fitting in with whatever was going on around me.
Yes, I was extremely malleable. I tried on all kinds of new hats, trying to find the me in the mirror I liked best, but the me that attracted attention, was not the me that I was comfortable with. But I had a dream, and if I couldn't be impractical, at least I could be simple. I didn't have to sing on stage, but I did need to make a house a home.
I also needed to make money. Then I found Mr. Right, and I needed to impress his friends and family. These things are part of our current culture. I found myself focusing on how much money I could make, and we all got excited when I was making nearly my age in salary, as well as getting phone calls in the middle of the night and charlie horses in my stomach. I think this was the beginning of the end.
I had overcome a lot of things just to grow up. My DNA predisposed me to being "emotionally unstable" then the perceived mistake of a single parent had me in an abusive situation for 13 years. Debilitating migraines had been overcome, only to be replaced with other stress-induced disorders. Still, I had a lot to give, much of it BECAUSE of the exact experiences in which I grew up. I needed to bear fruit; I wanted to be as good a mother as I was a wife.
We through caution to the wind, and became business owners. I became a god-mother, again, and I even was presented with the opportunity to care for one of them in my home. I was at last on the road to accomplishment, and even better, I had begun to take seriously the impact I was having on those around me. How many people do you know who would hang out at a lingerie store so they could talk about religion? I felt I was doing well.
Then my little world started slipping away. I did not yet realize that my experience with death had built up to my crowning moment-loosing my Papa; no one would ever love me more than he did, unless maybe it was my own child. Everyone thought I would fall apart. Yes, it was a nightmare-the sweetest nightmare ever formed, as I lead the family in laughter as we waited for him to leave us. It was a good death.
Although a new dream had begun to form, I was still focused on the one that had kept me going; I wanted to be a good wife and mother. To be a good daughter/granddaughter/cousin/friend was not enough. I had more to give.
So we closed up shop and returned home where I attempted to conform to every kind of rule. From providing an appropriate income, to keeping the house in top shape, to caring for Grandma Vi and the rest of the family, I was focused on conforming to the expectations of others. Then came the pain.
Did you know pain can be glorious? Pain is the way our body and spirit speaks to us. It is through pain that we know we are in need, rather it is the need for medical attention, or the need to change something in our lives. It took nearly a year and a half to put a name to my pain, and another 6 months before I understood it. During most of that time, I just wanted to die; medication made me consider it as a real resolution. I knew enough to know I needed help, but the wrong kind presented me with my worst nightmare to date. This from a rape survivor.
That was what I held on to; that I was a survivor, not a victim. My dream of being a good wife and mother fell to the way side as I concentrated on how to just be a good me, whatever that was. I wasn't quite sure who I was any longer, but I knew I was a survivor. I took an abusive childhood, and from those experiences, worked with "problem kids" in pre-school and taught their other teachers and their parents how to care for their unique needs, instead of making assumptions about them. From being raped, I was able to council others when they were afraid to even speak on their personal experience. I could take this newest nightmare and turn it into something else as well.
So I started writing. My situation is not unique; we all have nightmares that present themselves, even if they come in different forms. What I had that was unique was my perspective. My first 5 years were spent in a dreamland where there was no pain, then I discovered the real world is primarily nothing but pain. Because of who I am, I can find the gems of light in the darkness of life.
The real darkness is in the fact that I am still childless. There are some who would say that is God's punishment for my instability. There are some who would say that I don't deserve a child that I cannot pay for when I cannot even pay my own way. Maybe they are right.
Or I could accept that my dream may have just been a bad dream. It is not appropriate to judge your life against the standards of others, and that is where that dream came from. I wanted what my grandparents provided me in those first 5 years, but I wanted to do it better. That is not right, not for me.
When I lay my life in front of me, bare to the darkest facts, I see what an amazing blessing my existence is. From my human eyes I do not see how I have survived, but with they eyes of my spirit I see how all those nightmares added up to an amazing dream.
I do not have what it takes to be a good wife and mother. I am so wrapped up in the lives of friends and family, that a child would be neglected. Or, if I doted on my own child as so many years of waiting makes probable, I would not be able to give so much to friends and family. Even my husband has had to share me with what we jokingly refer to as my "flock".
But I have been blessed with understanding. Not everyone in the world understands me, nor do the people who say they love me understand me. My husband probably understands me less than most people, but he gives me understanding by allowing me to care for the things I see as priorities; none of which are money.
Life is still a nightmare more often than not. If I am not personally having a problem, then someone I care about is; usually there are multiple problems at once. This existence is a difficult one, but by working so hard at it, I have found the true value in it.
I do not need to be a good wife and mother. What I need, is to be a good person; to do my best with each moment that presents itself, and care for those who are in such greater need than I. Not everyone knows they are loved. Not everyone knows how to love themselves, especially when they are acutely aware of their perceived flaws.
I could let such a lovely dream die. Some people let their desire for a child kill them. Some people let crushed dreams make them bitter. That is not the way of a survivor.
You see, I am an excellent mother! I have not had to bear fruit of my body before I help a new born child with love. I have not had to ground a teenager to understand the angst of parenting. I have given of myself openly and freely to loved ones who needed it. I have even given to strangers, because the spirit moved me. I have cared for others physically and emotionally until I was nothing but ash. Yet from the flames of destruction came a renewed life, one that I have now given to you, my dear child.