Someday I will have all the time I want to write.
Someday, maybe, I’ll even have the guts to submit a screenwrite.
Someday I will wish my boys were little again.
Someday, but not today, I will publish a book.
Someday.
We all say “someday” and that’s ok!
Until next time…Someday!
Nightmares and Dreams
What do they mean?
Horrifying nightmares that make you wake up screaming and out of breath.
Fantasy dreams of unrealistic happiness.
Dreams you don’t remember once you’ve woken up.
I’ve often had those types of dreams and nightmares. I think my anxiety has a lot to do with them. When I go to bed really stressed out I tend to have bad dreams and then forget it as soon as I wake up. Sometimes my nightmares seem almost real because I can physically feel what’s happening. Sometimes when I read of things that have happened they become my nightmare.
I still remember a bad dream I had as a teen. In my nightmare it was a dark, country road only lit by few dull yellow streetlights. I was running as fast as I could from someone. I tried to see who I was running from and as I did the someone shot me in my chest and I woke up, breathing heavily as I was clutching my chest because it felt so real. It was a pain and such a feeling that I can’t describe. My screams had woken my dad and he came in almost tearing down the door. I told him about the dream. He was shocked to think that anything like that could happen to his daughter.
When I was a little kid I used to have nightmares of snakes eating my little brother. And spiders attacking me. But I have no real life fear of them.
Nightmares happen all around us. Just check the news. It’s like something you can’t wake from. No matter how hard you try to ignore it. We don’t even have to go to sleep to have a nightmare. We basically live it.
What are your nightmares? What do you fear?
I was running through the reader and spotted this daily prompt. The first thing that popped in my head was the layers of emotions. I am not very good with emotions. I don’t know how to handle them. When an adult is crying I have no idea what to do or say. I’m not a touchy feely person. I have a bubble. Don’t pop my bubble! Sorry kiddos momma can only handle so much daily huggin! High fives are what we mostly do but I do hug my kiddos, just so ya know! I’m not totally mean!
You know how sometimes in some families boys are told to suck it up and walk it off? Well, I was the daughter in that. It was a sign of weakness in my family if you cried or couldn’t handle a situation without your emotions. Now, angry emotions were okay. We can show angry anytime as long as weren’t physical. I take after my dad in that. I guess it goes with him having to basically grow up fast. He lost his father to a heart attack when he was 13 and he had 7 other brothers and sisters so his mom needed all the help she could get. My mom is the emotional one. When she cries I want to run the other way. I don’t know how to handle it. My dad tries to stay away too. So, I can see where I get my attitude with emotions.
I feel that crying won’t make it better. I feel that crying just makes you feel worse. If I need to cry, I cry alone. I don’t want anyone to see my “weakness”. Usually when you see me cry they are tears of I’m so pissed off that you might want to run! I probably sound insensitive and I’m sorry, I really am. I just don’t know how to handle them.
When it comes to my children, that’s a whole other ballgame. I am more empathetic towards children than I am with adults. Adults can take care of themselves whereas children need guidance. Although there are some adults that still need a forward assist (military jargon).
There are many other emotions I go through on a daily basis but I keep to myself. I feel that I burden people when I talk about them. I feel that they feel that they’re obligated to do something or “fix-it”. That doesn’t mean I’m not a good listener. I will listen til my ears fall off. I love a good talk even if there are tears. Just to warn ya though that I may not be the person you’re looking for to help you feel better other to vent.
Please don’t bash me.
Life & Writings of Kate 