Good prematurely early morning Blog.
As I rise to face the new day, I am ruminating on a few things:
- I forgot to mention I believe I would now be considered the “top volunteer” at NAMI Sacramento and just got handed this Friday’s warmline duty. When Lynn said to me “we thought of you first,” I really felt good. I knew I was making an impact, and spreading the word about how hard I work and also that I am funny. And maybe kinda cute?
- I haven’t heard substantively from **** since my trauma trigger of Tuesday night. She asked for space, which I have respected. The wheels of anxiety would like to get all fired up on speculating, but I don’t indulge them. In this new era of self-awareness, moments like this are broken down into components: part of it is sadness, fear, but then there is hope, promise, and positively projected outcomes. Even if one or the other is proved to be false, their contrast prevents one from dominating over the other. So I sit here looking at these two anxious reactions, neither being appropriate, and am now moving forward with my day.
- I am not going fishing this morning. My stomach has been feeling less than satisfactory for a day now, and I believe Moo is to blame somehow. She was fine after a couple of days and I project the same for myself, or less. My body tends to destroy outside invaders with a sadistic glee. Sadly, this means the fish will get to celebrate their independence for yet another day… for now.
In general, I find my attitude is good, but my prospects for the day are dim. I must come up with something proactive while the physical part regenerates or becomes stable. I miss not having **** to talk to. It sure did feel good those three days when we were communicating often. It was like old times, in a way, but free of the doubt and speculation. It felt like we had gone to school together as kids, then come together as adults once more at some point down the road. It’s odd, but good, and I really do notice suddenly being deprived of it.
I keep having image filled dreams that I can remember bits and pieces of in the night, but by the morning all I can remember is that I did have a dream about something. It’s very strange, but also nice since the weed for the longest time had suppressed that memory retention. I look on my FitBit and see I’m getting oodles of REM sleep. Science says I’m dreaming, but what about…?