Month: June 2016

Musing Moments 092: The Airport Dream

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I had a dream that I was at an airport. I don’t remember it being extremely busy. I remember there was a line that went to somewhere but I didn’t have to stand in it. The part I remember the clearest was when I got to the security check point.

 

I didn’t have a bag with me so there was nothing for me to put on the conveyer belt. There really wasn’t a conveyer belt anyway. It was more like a really tall reception desk instead with the security person standing behind it. I should see their upper chest but that was about it. I think it was a girl but I’m not sure. I don’t think it really mattered.

 

I placed my wallet and cell phone on the counter and started to walk up to the scanner. While I was doing that the security person started making some sort of announcement about passenger items and what we needed to do with them. I don’t remember what was said, but I picked up my wallet and cell phone as I walked through the scanner and nothing went off. No alarms, no SWAT team repelling from the ceilings and tackling me to the ground.

 

The anxiety I had been feeling in the dream eased. I had made it through. I was ok.

 

I remember thinking that I didn’t have my car keys because if I had the alarm would have gone off. I remember feeling panicky about that. I remember thinking about the time I had gone with mom to pick up Jason from the airport and locking my keys in my car, sitting on the driver’s seat in plain view.

 

I was so worried and full of dread until I remembered that I had left my keys in the car on purpose. I had left the car unlocked so I could still get into it. I was still ok. I had everything I needed with me, and the things I didn’t I would still be able to have access to when the time was right.

 

I don’t remember having a destination. I don’t remember having to meet anyone, or having any real reason to be at the airport. But I remember that I made it through security so things would be ok.

 

I have a date on Wednesday. Maybe date isn’t the right word. Maybe meeting would be better since I’m still moving to Vegas. I don’t really know what counts as a date and what doesn’t, but maybe that’s because I’m socially awkward and I’ve never really been part of the “dating” scene.

 

Regardless of words and terms, I’m meeting a person that I’ve talked to for a few months now. It’s someone I was chatting with before mom’s hospitalization. We talked about games, and free lance, and blacksmithing and all sorts of random things.

 

As things got worse between Zane and me I stopped messaging. And then everything happened with mom. While I was in Vegas he reached out to me through email to see if things were ok. I told him about what happened. He has been open and understanding and kind and the line that affected me the most was, “Take your time.” His message was the first message I had received from anyone at the time. The first message after mom’s death. “Take your time,” gave me the permission I hadn’t realized I needed to breathe.

 

I think I replied with a thank you message, but didn’t really say much else. It wasn’t until I had gotten back to Orlando I reached out to him again and even then it wasn’t very much. Not until last weekend while I was in the hotel room alone. I couldn’t sleep so I got on Skype and sent a message. I don’t know why, but I felt the need to let him know that I wasn’t ok. That at the moment it was really dark for me.

 

He has been open, understanding, and kind, and his messages have helped me when I’ve felt alone. There’s a lot of people who have helped me and I’m grateful for all of them even if I haven’t written about them or mentioned them in some way.

 

Currently I have never met V. I know it might seem silly but that’s how I think of him. He’s V from “V for Vendetta” for me.

 

I’ve never met him. I haven’t seen his picture yet, which may seem sort of weird in an Internet creeper sort of way. He’s this amazingly compassionate person in a Guy Fox mask to me, and I want to be able to see him in person. I want to say thank you face to face for the support and understanding he has given me. I want to give him a hug and personally express how much his kindness during this situation has meant to me. And I want to be able to do that before I leave.

 

So yeah… we’ve agreed to meet. We’re going to have dinner at a sushi place. I don’t know what’s going to happen past that. I don’t know if that’s a date or a meeting and really I don’t care. It’s going to be whatever it is and I’m looking forward to it in a nervous, “What if he doesn’t like me,” sort of school girl way. Yay insecurities I suppose.

 

I think the dream was about the meeting.

 

It wasn’t a bad dream. I made it through something that normally gives me anxiety while still holding onto the things that were important to me.

 

I’m going to keep looking forward to my meeting. I’m going to keep looking forward to dressing relatively nice and going out for good food and amazing conversation since for the past nights we’ve talked on the phone as he drives to work.

 

I still smile when I think about it. Our second conversation Saturday night.

 

V: Do you want to talk?

Me: Yes and no. I don’t want you to feel obligated to talk to me, and I don’t want to darken your day.

V: I work at night… you can’t darken my day. 😉

 

I don’t think I have laughed and smiled and enjoyed myself so much since months before the hospital. Zane and I had been doing poorly for so long.

 

It’s nice to feel girly. It’s nice to have something to look forward to.

Letters to Mom 005: Month 2

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Hey mom.

 

Those words still make me cry. I think they will for a while.

 

I’m in a hotel room again. They don’t make me feel better. I don’t know if it really does any good to get them. It’s quiet. I’m alone. Maybe that counts for something. Maybe it gives me the time I need to rest so I can make it through the week. I spend most of these days, the “hotel days” in bed. Not really sleeping. Sometimes I do. It’s still hard to sleep in general.

 

I slept curled around your urn the other night. It felt like you were with me. It felt like the one afternoon I can remember in Georgia. I don’t remember how old I was. Young. You told me that we were going to take a nap. We laid down together and I couldn’t sleep so I stayed awake, on my side with your arm wrapped around me, staring out the window listening to the wind blowing through the leaves of the tree outside. I listened to your breathing. I felt your warmth. And as a child I waited for the magic hour where you would let me get up and go do something because I was so bored just laying there.

 

I wish I could back to then and tell myself to cherish that moment because as I got older we wouldn’t take naps together anymore.

 

I wish I could tell myself to cherish every moment I had with you because one day there wouldn’t be more. One day it would end.

 

I cried all night that night mom. I cried so much it hurt and even then I couldn’t stop. I just wanted you to come back even though I knew you were there with me. I want you to be here the way you used to be. The way where I could hug you for real and have you hug me back and tell me that things really will be ok.

 

It’s bright outside right now. I’m sure if I went out it would be warm. It’s summer. I should be enjoying it. But I don’t want to go outside. I don’t want to be around people and I don’t know where to go. When I’m inside and alone I can cry if I want to. No one is here to be bothered by it to or try to make it better. I’m allowed to just be. Apathetic. Numb. Angry. Sad. Reminiscent. Even happy sometimes. I remember the good times and even though they hurt they make me happy because I was so happy with you.

 

It’s cold in the hotel room. I keep thinking that I should turn the temperature up but it seems like so much effort. It seems pointless. I keep telling myself the sheet I have wrapped around me is warm enough but I look outside and I know that I really don’t feel alive or warm right now. I’m existing, not living. And I don’t know how to change that.

 

I want to sit outside under a tree and cry my eyes out. I want to be outside in the sun and warmth. I want to be around nature. I don’t want to miss another summer like I did when I was depressed because Zane was unemployed. I’m tired of missing my season.

 

I talked to Jason the other day. He was driving home from work and we talked the whole time. I bet it was a lot like when he would call you. I miss him. Even though we don’t really hug or anything I miss being around him. We understand each other’s quiet I guess. We’re so similar. We always were. It doesn’t matter that he’s a half brother. To me he’s the purest family I have next to Jon. He couldn’t be more my brother if he tried.

 

I’m still waiting and I guess that’s another thing that makes it hard to feel motivated about anything. I’m waiting for this last month of work to end. I’m waiting for Zane to let me know about the apartment. I’m waiting for Allison to let me know when I can get a plane ticket to visit her. I’m waiting. I’m waiting. So it feels like there’s nothing to really do other than sit here.

 

I don’t know how to occupy my time other than to go to the gym, and that leaves me so sore sometimes because I push myself. I don’t eat well. I don’t sleep well. I don’t drink enough water. So it’s really no surprise I’m not performing well.

 

There’s a pond across from the hotel. I can see it from my window. I can hear birds. There are trees along the bank covering the grass with shade. There’s a breeze, just like that day we took a nap together. I can see the branches swaying. It looks so nice mom. I wish you were here to go on a walk with me. I wish you were here for me to talk to. I miss your voice so much. I miss your warmth.

 

I want to be able to do something. I want to not be waiting. I’ve never been good at waiting. Waiting on the plane to see if you were still alive when I got to Vegas. Waiting for your ashes to come back from the funeral home. Waiting to go back to Orlando. Waiting to go back to Vegas to be with Jason.

 

Always waiting. I don’t want to wait alone. I don’t want to be trapped in my own head, but alone is the only time I can truly think and process. The only time that I can figure out what MY thoughts are rather than all of the noise around me. And my thoughts hurt. And so I find myself crying, or missing you, writing to you. I find myself sad and staying inside where I leave it too cold rather than going outside and trying to live and heal.

 

My goal today, mom. The one thing I’m going to do today is go outside and sit under that tree. I’m going to do it for you. For me. Because I said I would be strong and that I wouldn’t fall to pieces.

 

Today is two months without you, and maybe that’s why going outside seems like such an impossible task right now. But I’m going to do it. I’m going to sit outside and get sunlight and fresh air even if it’s only for five minutes. I said I wouldn’t waste my days. That I would live life to the fullest. That I wouldn’t stay in bed. I said I would shower and eat at least one meal every day. I said I would take care of myself and that I would keep going.

 

You wanted me to be happy in life and I’m trying so hard, mom. I really am. But right now the best I can do is survive. I can’t be happy yet. Not like I was.

 

So I guess I need to go for now so I can shower and get dressed and go sit under my tree. I’m most likely going to cry and I’m sorry for that, but I promise that I’ll make it through today. I love you, mom. I miss you.