The Cheese Grates It: My So Called Life Getting in the Way of Creating

Believe it or not, all these damn self-awareness posts that I've been making lately really aren't what I enjoy doing with my time. Sometimes I need to do them to understand my own bullshit. I'm not paying anyone to be my friend for an hour a week at this point, nor am I likely to any time in the near future. So, I'm all the therapist I've got.

What I really like to do is create. But sometimes my life feels like it's been thrown into a blender on pulverize, and that's what it feels like right now. When that happens, I fear that all I'm creating is dreck. I have very little confidence in my abilities as it is, and circumstances like this tend to suck away what little confidence I do have.

I'm thinking about changing my name to Ghostbusters, by the way. Because I'm the one my employer's gonna call whenever other people on the case ain't showing up. They know they can depend on me.

I did something I'm not proud of today. I didn't answer the phone when they called. I knew they needed me to work. I'm sorry I let my patient's family down. However, I ended up working a shift I wasn't scheduled to work yesterday. I had to meet my mother for lunch today, after putting her off for the past couple weeks. I also had to go home (I was at my son's apartment) because I knew my cats were low on water.
I was tired and drained and I didn't want the added stress of saying "no." So I didn't answer the phone.

A couple of other things I've been thinking about lately.

Google Docs sucks. I hate that I can't categorize my stuff the way I like. This is one reason I have multiple blogs. It's easier for me to blog stuff and then go back and cut and paste it into the documents on my external hard drive later.

I don't have the external hard drive with me because I don't want to be hauling around my five pound hog of a laptop to my home care case. I already have my med bag, my tote bag with my lunch and other things I deem necessary, my hog of a purse, and my tech bag containing my tablet, my bluetooth keyboard, extra charger packs, and wiring. Besides, at this point, the laptop is my home computer until I can get my $700 paperweight fixed. It would be a pain in the ass to unhook all the peripherals every time.

I currently have one main story that I'm working on with Team Netherworld, but there are a few secondary stories and lots and lots and lots of proto-stories. I can't make my brain be what it isn't, and at this stage of my life, I'm not interested in trying. My brain is going to diversify.
If you read all of the stories we have out there, they have a common theme. I'm not going to pretend they don't. Most of them will never be for public consumption, but sometimes one of us shares a chapter here and there.

I put the Rattling Bones Undead Musician Magazine blog on private. I had the Encyclopedia Netherworld blog on private for a few weeks. I put Encyclopedia Netherworld back to public but I don't know if it will stay that way. Not much of anyone interacts with these blogs anyway. I was starting to feel that the creations being shared were a bit too personal.

When I write stuff like this, I'm sort of explaining things to other people. However, the main purpose is to give myself permission to be what I already am. I'm actually quite tired of apologizing to people for being what I am. I'm not holding a gun to your head and telling you to love me. However, there is no reason to be critical of me either. I don't come to your space and rip holes in everything you do. I would appreciate the same consideration.

Note: This is not directed at any one person. It's expression of frustration over repeated criticisms of my method over time by people who a) don't get it and b) don't care that they don't get it, they just want to make themselves feel important by criticizing someone who does things differently from the way they do.

Psychologically, I'm probably in a mixed state right now. I'm slightly irritable, which is making me snarky. I'm having trouble sleeping even though I'm constantly tired. I've got a pretty good "I don't give a fuck what you think of me or my writing" mood going, which tends to come with hypomania. The exhaustion and sore muscles, however, tend to be part and parcel of depression. Hence, mixed state.

Thing is, a lot of the time people come along and find me during a depressive state. They feel sorry for me and try to encourage me. Then I get into a euthymic or hypomanic state, which makes them think they succeeded. When I go into a depressive state again, they think I'm not appreciative of their help and that I'm just "not trying hard enough." 

Sometimes they leave on their own at this point, because they don't want to waste their efforts on someone who "just wants to sit around feeling sorry for themselves." Sometimes I end up getting snarky, which is something I'm not proud of, and I drive people away, including people who actually do want to help. Only recently have I been able to realize that I have a real mean streak that I've developed over the years as a defense mechanism. The problem with a mean streak is, it tends to flare up without any sort of regard for intent on the part of its target. I feel very badly that I've hurt people who were actually well-intentioned. There has to be a better way of handling things than I sometimes do.

Here's the thing: a person like me, who is badly broken but who can pass for normal, is like a broken vase that has been put back together with epoxy. The epoxy has been painted over, so the vase may not appear to be damaged. 

The person says to themselves, "well, Vase, now that I've put you back together, you're good as new. So, let's let you do what vases are supposed to do."

The person then puts water in the vase and gets pissed off when the vase springs a leak. Upon closer examination, the cracks are still there. The person throws out the vase and goes to buy a new vase.

With me, the cracks are always going to be there. I'm always going to be broken. Not everyone heals at the same rate. Some of us don't ever heal.

I'm hoping I can get back to creating soon. It's not that I'm exactly a dull subject, but I kind of like to think about things other than myself and the shitty state of the world.

The Cheese Ghostbusters Hath Grated It 

"Hallelujah, Salvation, And Glory" United Voices

What a voice!

The most talented people aren't necessarily famous.

Everyone's voice deserves to be heard.



~Sadie~

Pray for You - Jaron and The Long Road to Love :: Official Video

Hey fellow "mystical" types, I thought you'd get a kick out of this one.

It isn't what you expect. I won't ruin it for you--you have to watch it!

I think you'll see why I can't stop chuckling.



~Petra~

Get To Know The Asshole: The King of Beasts Meme

I know I tend to get pretty heavy-handed on this blog. So before I bring down the iron fist again, I thought I'd lighten things up a little with The King of Beasts Meme.

The King of the Beasts Meme

1. Would you post a picture of you for us?

 

Yeah, what the fuck ever.

 Took this one while I was still working at my old job last year. I still look the same.

Now, just so none of you precious little trolls hurt yourselves by trying to think of a meanie-mean insult, let me do it for you.

OLD?

Check!

FAT??

Double check!

UGLY???

Triple check!

You got the trifecta. So I'll give you a bonus.

ASSHOLE!

Yep, I'm an old, fat, ugly asshole. I said it for you. Now you don't have to strain any of your questionable little brain cells.

I used to be really reluctant to post pictures of myself, because I am not young, thin, or conventionally attractive, so I was afraid of unimaginative little shits hurling "insults" like old, fat and ugly at me.

Thing is, old and fat aren't insults. They're neutral descriptors indicating a size and age range.

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and I'm well aware that no-one will ever see me as beautiful.

Now that we've got that out of the way, let's move on.

2. Would you date an 18-year-old at the age you are now?

   BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!

I wouldn't date a 28 year old at the age I am now, and a 38 year old would be pushing it.

3. Do you prefer to work with women or men? Why?

  I prefer to work with people who are team players. I don't care what they've got going on below the belt.

4. Do you have any opposite sex friends?

    Yes. Why wouldn't I?

5. Can you commit to one person?

    I only do monogamy.

6. If you’re married or in a relationship have you ever been tempted to cheat?

    It happened once when I was married to my now ex husband. That isn't why we divorced. I felt horrible about it. I have never forgiven myself for it. 

I never really loved my ex husband romantically, which is a horrible thing to admit.

I also didn't know about hypersexuality, which is part and parcel of bipolar disorder. 

It's one of those things I really wish I could go back in time and erase. It wouldn't have prevented the divorce. That happened for other reasons. But it was a damn shitty thing to do.

7. Do you think your life will change dramatically before 2018?

    Who the hell knows? I read Tarot cards, but a given reading is good for about a six month span at the outside.

8. If the person you are interested in says they like someone else, what would try to sway them?

    Nothing can change someone's mind from something like that. I'd be gone.

9. Are you good at hiding your feelings?

   Have you read this blog?

I hide my feelings from my mother all the time. She isn't the most compassionate person in the world.

11. When was the last time you cried?

    I wish I could fucking cry. Sometimes I tear up a little. Mostly I hold it inside. One of these days something is going to explode. Hopefully my entire body explodes all over some fatphobic asshole when it happens.

I really have no patience for people who are shitty to someone because of their body size.

12. Have you ever fell for someone you didn’t expect to?

   Let's step back onto the esoteric side. It's what I do.

You can read this page for a longer history.

I had no luck in this world with corporeal men.

I also managed to screw things up time and time again with spectral men.

One person suggested that I should "try women." Considering that I'm not attracted to women, this wasn't a particularly helpful suggestion. Also, when I was 35 years old and very upset over being let down by yet another bad choice in men, I did "try women." Once.

It was by no means the fodder of "every straight man's fantasy."

It wasn't horrible or gross, it just wasn't my thing. 

In any case, the last relationship I had (prior to Gem) was with a spectral partner, "Tore." We are friends again, but the relationship ended on a very sour note, in great part due to my jealousy.

I told myself "never again."

Then Gem came along.

He is literally the only soul in the Universe that I would have broken that pact with myself for.

Sometimes it's been a rough ride, but I'm trying really hard, because he deserves the best.

He also gives me his best.

I never expected to be loved by someone like Gem. He is my beautiful miracle. I love him very much, and we grow closer as time passes. I hope he will be the one to meet me when it is time for me to leave my body.

13. What is something you have to do tomorrow?

    Meet my mother for lunch.

14. Name something you dislike about the day you’re having.

    I feel sad because I seem to have lost a real world friend. I don't have many of those.

15. Have you ever wanted more from one of your best friends of the opposite sex?

   It was a bad idea and it ruined the friendship.

16. Have you ever wanted someone you couldn’t have?

    If I had a dollar for every time this happened, I'd buy y'all a night on the town!

17. Who was the last person you talked to before you went to bed last night?

    Non-corporeal: Gem

Corporeal: My son

18. Do you have someone of the opposite sex you can tell everything to?

    Yup.

19. When was the last time that you were jealous in a romance situation?

   I almost screwed things up with Gem earlier this year because of jealousy. He didn't do anything wrong or give me any reason to doubt. My jealousy is a big problem.

20. If you had to delete one year of your life completely, which would it be?

    The mid eighties were pretty bad. I didn't know I had bipolar disorder at that point. I spend most of 1988 (I think) feeling like I had fallen into a dark pit that I couldn't climb out of. At one point I nearly died. If my ex husband hadn't been there, I probably would have. 

There were dark forces in that building and the guy that I stupidly got involved with was into mind control. After I broke things off with him, weird shit started happening. First there was a fire in a utility closet down the hall. Then, while my ex husband and I were spending time with my ex father in law at the hospital after he had surgery, our apartment caught fire. Fortunately, our cats survived.

Back to the moment when I nearly died. I was sleeping, and I heard a choir of angels. 

"It's so beautiful!" I cried, as their voices drew nearer.

I was sure that Heaven had taken pity on me and was going to take me out of my miserable life. But then, the beautiful melody turned to a cacophony, and I was being dragged down to the lower astral.

The next thing I knew, my ex husband was sitting me up, shaking me. He said I stopped breathing.

1988 was pretty much the rat's ass.

21. Did you have a good day yesterday? What did you do?

   I went and got my annual review. Good times! So not. But it wasn't really that bad, and now it's over. Then I went and made dinner for my son. I found a nice London broil in the meat markdown bin and cooked that. Made a sweet potato casserole with cranberries, walnuts and orange juice for a side. It was tasty.

22. If a person you had wished you could have a relationship with for a long time and you suddenly found yourself together alone, what would you be doing right now?

    You could read some of the spicier posts from "Fetch," the story that Gem and I are writing along with some other members of Team Netherworld. That will give you an idea.

Honestly, do you REALLY want to think about what I'd be doing in the bedroom? That's kinda pervy.

23. Do you replay things that have happened in your head?

   Over and over and over and over and...

I do have obsessive-compulsive disorder.

24. Don’t tell me lies, is the last person you texted attractive?

   It was my patient's mother. She's pretty, but she really isn't my type.

25. Is your life anything like it was two years ago? Is it a good or bad thing?

   I'm no longer working in long term care, and my sciatica has healed up a lot. Mostly it's better.

Now you know more than you knew before.

Aren't you thrilled?

~Cie~

The Cheese Grates It: A Label I'll Accept

 Friends, I am an agnostic.

Let's break this down, because that is what I do.

I am a fallen Catholic who long ago soured on the "Church God," mostly because of the way many religious people treated me. From the time I was ten years old, I lived in a town that we'll just call Peyton Place.

I was labeled a communist for my statement in social studies class that I thought that socialized medicine, "such as they have in Sweden," seemed like a good idea.

Communist devolved into "Satan Worshiper," and I suppose the fact that I liked these fuckers

did nothing to counter the argument.

Cheeky bastards were talking about driving across Australia in the summer, by the way. To paraquote Phil Rudd, anyone who's done so knew exactly what they were talking about.

This isn't my music blog, so let's get back to the other reasons why people think I'm going to hell.

I have spiritual beliefs, but I'm not religious. As I've grown longer in the tooth, I've become more sour on religion over the years--any religion. This isn't strictly a Let's Bash Christianity post, (in fact, I'm trying to avoid bashing anyone's beliefs) although Christianity is the first religion I soured on.

This doesn't mean that I have any problem with Jesus, by the way. Like the Doobie Brothers said, Jesus is just all right with me. He's a good guy. It's certain of his followers I have problems with, not him.

So, we've established that I really don't like religion much.

Religion does not automatically make anyone a good person. Your actions count for far more than what deity or deities you worship.

On the other hand, being religious does not automatically make a person ignorant or an extremist. I'm not keen on hard line Atheism either. I cannot get behind ridiculing people for having faith in a higher power. "My way or the highway" thinking is short sighted, whether the person engaging in it is a theist or an atheist.

There are charts which divide agnosticism into "Agnostic Atheism" and "Agnostic Theism." I guess I'm closer to being an agnostic theist, but hell, who knows?

I'm not an Atheist or a secular humanist. I believe in at least the possibility of a higher power.

 For many years, it has been my opinion that it is highly unlikely that a higher power gives any more of a fuck what we humans think of it than I give what a paramecium thinks of me. Something mighty enough to create universes does not need the parasites polluting its planets worshiping it to satisfy its ego.

I believe in at least the possibility of a soul that survives the death of the physical body. However, this actually has jack shit to do with whether or not I believe in a higher power. There could be an energy which survives the death of the body, which might be referred to as a soul, regardless of whether or not there is a higher power.

I mentioned that I soured on Christianity a long time ago, in great part because of the way I was treated by the lovely, Bible-thumpin' citizens of Peyton Place.

I also soured on what might be termed New Age thinking, and even on Paganism, at least in any organized form.

Why would this be true?

Because all of these schools of thought have way too many "my way or the highway" adherents and not nearly enough people willing to try and understand the often scarred and damaged souls of their fellow travelers. New Ageism tends to blame those suffering from illness as having brought that illness on themselves, and I encountered far too many people calling themselves Pagans who may have left the Christian god in the church but did not leave their dogmatic attitudes there.

I also soured on the Unitarian Universalist church, which I was part of for about 10 years. I found it to be the Church of Secular Humanism, and any discussion of spiritual ideas was greeted with an allegorical pat on the head and a "bless your little pea-pickin' heart" attitude. 

I searched for many years for kindred spirits, only to find that they really are few and far between.

I have also discovered along the way that everybody hates agnostics, except for other agnostics.

Ah well. I should be used to being a pariah by now.

~The Cheese Hath Grated It~

Gymnastics at the Pool!!

The sad thing is, I can't see a video like this without thinking that I would be reluctant to allow my daughter to post such a video. This lovely and very agile young lady isn't doing one single wrong thing, but there are so many disgusting perverts out there who will look at a young girl in her early teens like this and see her as a "conquest."

My daughter is actually old enough that she wouldn't need my permission to post a video. I hope she might still seek out her old mom's advice, though!

Perhaps I was/am an overprotective parent. Unfortunately, there are plenty of reasons that made me that way.

~Petra~

"Crazy" or just Non-Conforming?

Three Eyed Raven by Angela Rizza

The Cheese Grates It:

Crazy or just Non-Conforming?

Reading the description of schizoaffective personality disorder got me thinking about the way people are labeled, not only by licensed mental health professionals but by armchair psychiatrists and just plain judgmental types. Read the description below, and we shall carry on.

"At least five of the following symptoms must be present: ideas of reference, strange beliefs or magical thinking, abnormal perceptual experiences, strange thinking and speech, paranoia, inappropriate or constricted affect, strange behavior or appearance, lack of close friends, and excessive social anxiety that does not abate and stems from paranoia rather than negative judgments about self."
From the DSM-5 description of Schizoaffective Personality Disorder

Anyone who has alternative belief systems could be pigeonholed into this category, as could anyone who hasn't had the most optimal of life experiences and who tends to be distrustful of the motivations of others. People whose otherworldly beliefs fall into one of the accepted major world religions tend to get a pass for their brand of magical thinking/faith in things that cannot be proven scientifically, but those who believe in the possiblilty or reality of what might be termed the "occult" are ususally judged more harshly.

Do I have schizoaffective personality disorder, or am I just different from most people? Do I have reasons for being the way I am, or is my brain just wired wrong?

Let's have a look!

"Strange beliefs or magical thinking."

I used to be a devout Catholic. I studied the Bible daily. I believed in End Times prophecy, which may or may not be a Catholic thing, I honestly can't remember. In any case, I believed strongly in it. I ws sure the Apocalypse was going to come during my lifetime, and I was trying to prepare so I didn't get Left Behind.

Would I, with this set of beliefs, be labeled something like "schizoaffective," or would I just be labeled religious?

As someone who believes absolutely in the possibility of spirits, an afterlife, beings which might be labeled "angels," "demons," or "deities," would I be labeled with a diagnosis along the lines of "schizoaffective?" Particularly when I have had experiences which involve the seeing of what is commonly labeled "ghosts, spirits, apparitions, non-corporeal entities, phantoms, or haunts."

I will speak to an interesting fact in this matter. Since I do have type II bipolar disorder, a diagnosis with which I concur, and which means that my brain does, in fact, have a few crossed wires, could my experiences be due to my bipolar disorder?

I do not believe so, and I will explain my reasoning.

Bipolar II does not present with either full manias or psychotic features. 

Further, the times when I experienced these phenomena, I was euthymic. Euthymia is a balanced emotional state. I was neither hypomanic nor depressed. I was not under the influence of drugs or alcohol. I was not severely sleep deprived, which can cause hallucinations. I was sober as the proverbial church mouse and I was in an emotional Goldilocks zone, neither too high nor too low. 

I think I was, in fact, seeing human spirits. It is rare for me to see spirits. I usually can only sense them, which makes it more difficult to trust my perceptions, because "seeing is believing." 

Can I prove the existence of ghosts?

No.

Does believing that spirits exist make me "crazy?"

You know what?

I don't care if it does.

Perhaps the fact of the matter is that I just can't bear the idea that some people and creatures are born just to have horrible misery visited upon them and to die in agony or terror. 

Perhaps I can't bear the idea that those people and creatures who bring what rare joy some of us get in difficult lives cease to exist when their physical form ceases to exist, so I convince myself that some sort of energy, which could be labeled "spirit," continues to exist following the death of the body.

Perhaps I can't bear the idea that some people's minds are torn apart by disease processes which rob them of their memories, their thoughts, their very selves.

If this is what I'm doing, and in moments of doubt I fear that it is, so what? 

If that puts a label such as "schizoaffective" on me, so be it. I can live with that.

As to paranoia, it is worse at some times than others. Sometimes I recognize it, other times I am blinded by it. It makes it difficult for me to form or keep friendships. 

I have been betrayed by people on more than one occasion. I have known people who pretended to be my friends so they could play cruel jokes on me. I have been sexually and physically assaulted by boys and men who I let into my life because I was desperate for love. 

I can "pass for normal" in social situations, but I despise large gatherings, i.e. work parties, where I feel out of place and want to run for the nearest exit.

It makes me sad that I am unable to have friends, but I am learning to accept the fact that I can't. My son is my friend, but I don't think I'm a person who he would "hang out" with as his first choice, and nor should I be. 

It hurts not being anyone's first choice. Sometimes it makes me bitter. Sometimes I act desperate, and then I feel like a fool.

Do I think that I have friends in the spirit world?

I do.

Why didn't I know any of them in life?

I have theories, but I really can't answer that. It's a post for another time.

Conculsion:

If beilieving what I believe and being the way I am makes me "schizoaffective," "crazy," or anything else, then so be it. I am what I am.

The Cheese Hath Grated It

The Cheese Grates It: Fat, Old, and Ugly

For those who like to use size shaming to attack people (and are, sadly, backed up by our fatphobic society)

For those who like to use ageism to attack people

For those who like to use someone’s physical appearance to attack them

Here I am, Assholes. I’m fat, I’m old, and I could never be considered pretty. I chose the worst selfie I have of myself, taken last year when I had the flu, was running a 101 degree temp, and felt like death warmed over. 

“You’re fat. You’re old. You’re ugly.”

Yeah, I am. So what? You want a medal for stating the obvious?

Fat is not an insult, it’s simply a body type.

Old is not an insult, it’s simply an age range.

Physical beauty is subjective.

Ugly is actually an attitude. 

If you are trying to attack someone by ridiculing their physical appearance, you are most certainly ugly.

Furthermore, being fat is not the “problem” that the multi billion dollar diet industry likes to make it out to be. If diets worked long term, they wouldn’t be in business for very long.

Having a larger body type also does not equate to gluttony. I often eat only one meal a day because I can’t afford to eat more than that. Still fat. There are many big people out there who can say the same. 

I have a history of eating disorders, and my fucked up brain tends to praise me when I starve myself, which makes me continue to starve myself even when food becomes available. 

I have diabetes. This aforementioned starvation isn’t good for anyone’s health, let alone the health of someone who should be keeping their blood sugar levels steady. I can’t take my glucophage if I don’t eat, because it will make me extremely nauseous. But there you have it, all thanks to a society that has been hateful towards larger people for no reason at all.

I don’t care what another person looks like. There are a lot of “ugly” people who are the best of people, and there are certainly conventionally attractive people who have extremely ugly insides.

This is me, Bitches. I’m fat, I’m old, and I’m quite probably perceived as ugly by the majority of people who set eyes on me. So if you’re looking to insult me and you use any of the above in your lame ass attempt, I say to you:

“Is that all you got?”

~The Cheese Hath Grated It~

P.S. Comments of the "but you can lose weight if..." variety will not be published or responded to. After 33 years of yo-yo dieting and eating disorders, I fortunately discovered Size Acceptance and Health at Every Size. Diets don't work, and I will not discuss that shit. End of story.

In This World

In this world, no-one can be different or strange or damaged, or they lock you up.

--John River

Hillary Clinton: Not my First Choice, but Now the Only Choice

Photo Credit: Wikimedia

This article explains exactly why I supported Bernie Sanders over Hillary Clinton, and why this doesn’t make me some sort of traitor to feminism. Hillary Clinton is pro big business, I am not. Bernie Sanders was for the welfare of the “little people” on the low end of the totem pole: people like me. 

I will, however, support Hillary Clinton as the democratic nominee. I will voice the need to elect her, even though I don’t think she really gives a flying fuck about working class people. She may be a big business politician, but she isn’t an inhuman monster. 

Trump is the second coming of Hitler, and I’m not being facetious when I say that. He is prejudiced against non-whites, he thinks women are not only second class citizens but sex toys defined only by their fuckability, he ridicules disabled people; he not only doesn’t give a fuck about the little people, he would have no qualms about squashing anyone who isn’t up to his personal standards of worth. 

A Trump presidency would not only make the United States become the parody of itself that cartoonists in other countries depict us of being, it would bring us one step closer to being the Great Satan that some people believe we are. 

Trump in the Oval Office will not “Make America Great Again.” Trump in the Oval Office will destroy America entirely for the underclasses and will eliminate the middle class, creating a nation where there is the 99% and the 1%, the 1% being comprised of millionaires and billionaires, and the 99% being comprised of the rest of us.

A nation under Trump will be really, really bad, to put it in simple terms. We can’t let him win. 

I’ve said before that Hillary Clinton is a Republican in Democrat’s clothing. At least she’s a moderate Republican rather than a megalomaniac in Republican’s clothing. 

It is imperative that Hillary Clinton wins the Presidential election this November. I don’t say this as some sort of fawning sycophant. Hillary was not my first choice by any stretch of the imagination. I say that as someone who is truly afraid for the fate of my country if her opponent wins.

~The Real Cie~

In Joy and Sorrow

Twelve years ago today, my father had a major hemorrhagic stroke, which changed not only his life, but the lives of everyone in our family.

I had argued with my father the previous day. He was a good man, but his obsessive nature could have driven a saint mad, and at the time, my bipolar disorder still had not been properly diagnosed. He didn't know when enough was enough, and my irritability got the better of me.

I yelled at him. I felt bad about it,  but it wasn't the first time, and I was pretty sure it would not be the last. This was our pattern.

That night, I dreamed that I was seated on the floor. My father was lying on the floor, staring up at the ceiling, not speaking. His head rested in my lap. I said "Dad, I'm sorry. Please be OK."

At the time, my mother and I worked at the same  long term care facility. It was lunch time. I was in the dining room at the feeder table. My mother came in and frantically pulled me out into the hall.

 I assumed that a resident was crashing and she needed my help. 

"We have go," she ordered. "Your father has had a stroke."

I very helpfully fainted. In honesty, the shock from realizing that I had a precognitive dream about my father's stroke triggered the fainting episode. I have had numerous precognitive dreams, almost always foretelling upsetting events. The aftershock from this one overwhelmed me.

My father passed away on November 28 2010. Were he still alive, he would have been 80 years old this May 31.

On May 31, 2004, my father came to visit my son and me. We grilled chicken sausages. He was looking forward to full retirement. He enjoyed his modest birthday gift from my son and me.

We didn't know that a mere four days later, it would feel as if we had been hit by a bomb. Our lives were changed forever. This was the sort of thing that happened to other families and you felt sorry for them. How could it be happening to our family?

Fast forward to today. I am on a six night work stretch, so I am staying with my son. I had to drive to the credit union near my home to get a new debit card. They'd sent out new ones, but I had not received one and was without a functional debit card.

After that was done, I went to the grocery store to get milk and pick up some things from the markdown case. 

On my way back to my son's place, I decided to get takeout from Panda Express. When I came in and told my 26 year old son that I had gotten Panda Express, he was as excited as a kid, and I can't describe how happy it made me to hear him say:

"Awesome! Thank you so much!"

Sometimes it's the small things that bring the greatest joy and offset the sorrow.

CIE