Tuesday, April 02, 2013

Scared Happy

Yay! I completed all of the tasks on my list yesterday, especially my 1,667 words on my novel. (I got the number wrong in yesterday’s post.) It was a struggle to get those words down because I kept trying to make them perfect. Not good. But I did get them done. And all in between taking care of QV (got him to eat and drink and take a shower while I changed all of the sheets), did laundry, cleaned up the kitchen, and put away the Easter decorations.

I stayed up until 22.00 last night. Since I got laid off, I’ve been going to bed at the same time I used to when I worked, around 19.30 most nights (sometimes I did stay up until 20.30but not often) and then sleeping until 07.30 so that’s like eleven hours a night. That’s a bit too much. At first I needed it, but then I found I was waking after about six hours of sleep and staying awake an hour or two and then sleeping again. So, too much. I haven’t stay awake until 22.00 in years. I used to be a night person before I had my daughter and went to work every morning.

It took me about an hour to wind down last night. I was quite agitated. I thought I was having a panic attack. I looked at the feelings instead of trying to suppress them (my new behavior) and I discovered that it wasn’t fear I was feeling but excitement. I haven’t felt excitement in so long that you can understand my confusion. It took me awhile to figure it out because I couldn’t understand why I was afraid or why I could be afraid but since fear has been my constant companion for a good ten years now, maybe even longer since it came on so gradually, I couldn’t conceive of it being something else. This looking at myself is an interesting experience and contrary to what I used to believe, I haven’t died from the examination.

One of my dreams last night was particularly disturbing and very different from any I’ve ever had before. I was watching a group of kids for some reason. Three of them went off to play near a brick townhouse with a front stoop. Two of them carried the third back. He wasn’t moving and they brought him to me so I could fix him. His head was completely smashed flat and they thought I could blow on him and inflate his head like a balloon. Somehow I knew that the two boys had flattened his head with a big rock but they insisted they didn’t know how it happened. I can’t get the image of the pancake head out of my head.

I am going to meet a friend for breakfast this morning. Another thing I haven’t done in ages. I’m excited about that. We’re meeting at the dinner up the street where I have not been yet.