Curse the blinking cursor. I’ve gone back over and over this sentence 5 times already. I don’t really know what to say here so bear with me. Heaviness of heart is a like a cloud full of rain looming on the horizon. You wish it would just hurry up and rain.
I had major anxiety issues the last 2 days. Headache, backache, insomnia, more of those really vivid dreams that play like movies in full color. These dreams /nightmares are super weird. like living someone else’s life while you are sleeping. I think this kind of dreaming would weird anyone out.
It felt different not being at work. But I couldn’t really function in pain and cloud mode today. In fact, most of the day I was in a full on pity party.
Anxiety attacks have been a part of my life since around 2002. I guess all that pushing issues to the back burner in life, caused a major implosion one day. I’ve had to deal with it ever since.
Now, with a few little reoccurring attacks recently, I’m sort of reliving things the way they used to be when I first got them.
Sucky.
Tonight Doug took us to IHOP where for an amazingly cheap price we loaded up on breakfast–at dinner.
Every thing was okay until we went to this huge furniture mall afterward, where amazing “faux rooms” of furniture are laid out asthetically across what seems like a stadium size store.
I became immediately sad.
As a kid, I used to fantasize of my “family” my future house and my future children (what little girl doesnt, right?)
I used to cut pictures out of magazines of what my “home” would look like. Cabinets, carpet, furniture and all, right down to the little embellishments and decorations on the coffee tables.
So this evening, As I lay down on a 5000 dollar temperpedic mattress in the middle of the store I thought about how most likely at 44 I wouldn’t have a house of my own, just like I never really had a normal childhood, a normal marriage, a normal anything really.
That’s the good thing with me. I’m not really materialistic at all.
I’ve had nothing before and been just fine.
It’s just that when I get around really nice ”stuff” I get sad. Being military and moving around every 1 to 3 years is not really all that fun sometimes.
I got extremely emotional when I saw little A bouncing from fake room to fake beautiful room calling out: “this is MY room, I want this one”
To seeing beautiful curio cabinets and lighting, and televisions the size of half a wall.
Admiring mirrors that went from floor to ceiling and heavy wood dining room sets, with matching bars and stools.
I got tired suddenly of window shopping and I wanted to come home. Only to find that when we came home, there was no peace there either.
Big A stayed out past her curfew and Doug and her were loudly arguing downstairs.
Women my age might be happily married instead of just “married”.
they might not have to struggle with anxiety attacks.
They might not have to go without sleeping all night or suddenly weep for no reason.
They might have their own home with someone they love deeply.
Their kids might not argue or cause friction.
They might be happy. Or they might be like me.
Things cool people say.....