Committing to write the good, the bad AND the ugly means documenting the stuff I really, REALLY don’t want to admit might be happening…
In the middle of the night last night I had the strangest dream. It had something to do with lots of ocean…and bright yellow outlines around the aerial view of continents…one in the shape of Australia.
This in itself is terrifying because I have sworn never to go there because (in my mind) it’s overrun with the world’s deadliest creatures like two headed cobra snakes, crocodiles the size of Volkswagens and enormous, highly venomous spiders ready to bite your hand off…and they are all waiting for me to hop off the plane so they can feast upon my flesh.
I know, I know. Over dramatic much?
Weird dream, right?
That’s what I thought.
This afternoon as I was snuggling Calvin, I had another weird dream/memory…then the wave of heat washed over and I realized.
These were not dreams.
The only times I’ve ever experienced such oddities were right before my ‘seizures events’.
I’m not sure why they call them ‘events’. Normally, before ‘events’ you dress up, wear darker eye shadow and begin aggressive negotiations with the high heels in your closet.
Not this time.
This time, I know enough to be scared. So naturally, I threw my mop of hair into a scrunchie, took off my bra, got into my jammies and now I think I’ll set up a bed on the floor.
I’d rather negotiate with the heels.