Dreams can be an escape from the twisted pathways of an unwanted reality. Sometimes, they take you to places you'd never dare travel on your own. Sometimes they force you to face aspects of yourself you never wanted to see. They force you to face your inner demons...
They make you truly See what's hidden so deep beneath the surface. All the chaos and anger you bury. All the hatred and damage buried beneath the rubble of a broken spirit. You're made to see the fragmented pieces you thought had faded away. You're forced to see who you really are... Some call those dreams Nightmares... I call them self awareness. Seeing the Monster for what it really is... Just a twisted form of me.
Last night, when I finally fell into unconsciousness I found myself pulled into yet another familiar place. It was night and I was in a house I keep dreaming about. It's not here in california. It honestly looks like Oregon. It's the same area, the same streets and sidewalks. The same clear skies above a thick canopy of trees. This place has been showing up in every dream I've had since Dad died. I believe it's where I'm going... And every time I dream of it, the image is clearer and it feels more and more like home. It's where I belong. When I was first walking through the house, I found a door to a room I hadn't entered before. I opened it and peered inside and saw the right side profile of a man, made of shadows... He went from sitting to standing. I closed the door and it took a moment for my brain to realize Who that shadow was. I opened the door and when I looked inside to seek him out...he was gone. It was Dad. Once again, it was a brief moment, he was in the other room, but this time I caught a glimpse of his outline and shadow...but I missed him. -sighs- The next part of the dream is just as odd. A few friends were in the house with me and I remember looking out toward a window that faced the backyard (no fence) that peered out into the forest. A Huge Grizzly Bear approached the window frame (there was only a screen seperating us) and it's shoulders were wider than the window, so it couldn't get through. The thing is, the window was almost six feet wide. It was Massive. Someone who was standing off to the side exclaimed, "Hey Erin, looks like someone wants to talk to you." And they didn't seem all that afraid of this mammoth grizzly approaching the window. At first, neither was I. Until it reared its lips back and started roaring at me. It was Pissed...and I knew it was because of me. It was a literal manifestation of all the rage building inside of me. I knew it wasn't going to hurt me, but it was frightening. It's amber hazel eyes seemed to shimmer brilliant golds and fiery reds as it snarled and growled for me to face it. The scariest part... Those were my eyes, in the face of this incredibly dangerous animal. She was fucking livid.
The dream shifted and I was with four guy friends that I knew were all very protective of me. One in particular was the sweetest on me, but I can't remember his face. I just know he had light hair and pale eyes; possibly blue/green and had a deep voice. He was an old friend, someone I knew I could trust and be safe with. The reason the four guys were around me is because they were protecting me from something that was out in the woods...something that was hunting me. And the bear was the last thing they were worried about. It was something unnatural. While we were all camped out in this house, everything was very dark, possibly close to midnight and the power was coming from a generator on the side of the house. It was like we were in a cabin in the middle of very thick woods. I was wrapped in a blanket and sitting out back, looking up into the starlit heavens as the other three patrolled the house. The fourth was holding me. I felt loved. I can't remember exactly what happened, but the next thing I know there was a wound on the lower half of my left leg. I didn't freak out, if anything I expected it. One of the other three was there, wondering what happened because I was literally Covered in blood. And it wouldn't stop. I told them it wasn't a big deal, I just had to squeeze the poison out. And even though I was running the garden hose over it, I couldn't get the blood off. All I could see was red, all over me, making my pale skin appear ghostly. They were terrified that I'd lose too much blood, but I told them this was normal. That I was stronger than I looked... I wasn't afraid. Even though...it's the most blood I've seen in a dream in a very long time. I honestly looked like Carrie's stunt double.
It was just... Weird. I also remember in another fleeting part of the dream, three Lynx cubs playing around me. And the smallest kept rubbing against my legs. The darkest markings with the lightest amber hazel eyes and black ears...a small female. While this was happening, there was a Huge wolf nearby just watching us. Specifically, his electric blue gaze were trained on my face. And it was as though he was made of fog and shadows, but I remember those eyes... He was looking right through me. As if waiting...
No idea what any of it means... Well, no, I actually do...most of it anyway. -smirks- The blood generally means something big is about to happen and happen fast. Heh...we'll see. Toodles. -Anon-
There are whispers within these walls... Confused and tattered; bloodied things with no purpose. Hollowed and broken from years of pain and neglect. I've tried so very hard to stay stable. To not become something I've never known before. I don't know what's happening to me. Anger, courses through me like a tyrant hellbent on destroying the heavens and all that lie beneath. I'm at war with myself. I don't recognize the person in the mirror. The lines are too harsh, the eyes are too piercing; scrutinizing everything for a weakness. Damaged. That term is so very accurate in describing my spirit. I can't put myself together the same as before. Too much of myself has been lost or washed away from the waves of chaos that's drowning my existence. Do I really have to become a monster in order to save what's left of me?
I don't like these thoughts, I especially don't like the way I'm feeling. It's either a terrible stillness or overwhelming rage. I can't pin it down, fight it back or make peace with it. It simply, Is and there really isn't anything I can do to make it go away. Because you can't kill what keeps you alive. I'm barely functioning as it is and this seems to be the thing that's helping me continue forward. I suppose it's normal? Is it? I really don't anymore. Too many thoughts and not enough words to speak them. As gifted as I may seem with poetry and prose, I'm terrible at expressing what's really going on in my head and how I'm feeling. I'm wired differently. Sometimes, the only way I can truly get my feelings understood, is in person and not the way you'd think. More often than not, it's written all over me. My face, my body language. My voice. My eyes especially... They scream out when I have no voice left to call for help. Singing especially gets the emotions felt. And yea... I've got some talent for hitting all the right notes. It's sad really... I used to sing so much, it helped...god did it help. But over the years, being forced into silence due to not having any privacy or place I could sing without being heard... I stopped and began to hate my own ability. I miss singing. I miss being able to push the poison out through song. It was so freeing. As was being on stage. Being able to vent repressed emotions through a completely different person (the character I was portraying) it was incredibly therapeutic. But I've lost that too... Or misplaced it. Shit, I feel misplaced. Left to my own devices I've been on a downward spiral. I'm trying so hard to be positive and believe in a better day...it's just, so fucking hard. I'm being honest here, because I know it helps and I have incredibly wonderful souls that I am beyond blessed to call friend. I know you're all worried about me, or at least curious as to my highs and lows and dare I say, 'emo behavior' as of late. -chuckles at herself-...gods kill me I just referred to myself 'emo'... Sweet Thor please strike me down -shakes her head in utter shame- I'm a mess. Mentally, emotionally...physically. The hardest lesson in all of this...what makes it soo much harder, is that when things were rough, I could always talk to Dad. He knew me better than anyone. He knew when I didn't have a voice to speak what was going on inside of me, he knew how to speak for me, to give the right words to say, to give my thoughts a voice. He understood me to where I didn't have to talk in circles because of my horrific fucking anxiety. He knew me... And I didn't feel so alone. I didn't feel crazy because someone understood when I couldn't speak. Because he could feel it and I didn't have to say it...
-completely loses it- This hurts so much... I fucking hate these tears; spilling useless buckets of salt over that which I cannot change. I miss him so much... Dammit I hate this. It so much harder without him...without his guidance, without his warmth. It's so fucking cold now...it almost feels like life has no meaning anymore. This pain is worse than I can convey. It's every day. Every moment. I try...god dammit I try so hard to buck up and soldier through everything... But he was the one stable thing in my entire life... And I feel fucking shattered because he's gone and I'm left with these fucking internal wounds. I'm so deeply scarred now...
Wishing he was still here. Wishing I didn't feel uneven and hollow. Wishing I didn't feel at all. -stops to calm down and violently wipes at her face- It's worse because in times like these, when my thoughts were so scattered and skewed and I couldn't make heads or tails of a situation... He was the calm voice that brought me back from the brink. And that's gone now. So I'm not handling myself very well... And I am sorry to anyone and everyone who may be affected by it. It's not on purpose... I just don't know who I am anymore... ...I feel like I'm becoming a monster... -Onyx-
So much to be learned from experience. Great lessons taught, possibly in the harshest of ways so that the soul will open its eyes to the painful truth that nothing is ever what it seems. The innocence one tries so desperately to hold on to, to shelter from the terrible reality of this existence, to protect it from the agony of deceit. From everything that's out to destroy it. The innocence I've fought so hard to keep safe has been wounded and lies huddled in the corner, weeping. Helpless to watch as it mourns the loss of itself. Becoming numb at the sheer cruelty from heartless souls that only take until there's nothing left but a hollow shell. But something has been summoned by the warm tears pooling down the innocent's face. A terrible energy brought forth like a waiting leviathan awakened after a long hibernation. A silent rage courses through its veins at the sight of the inner child curled up in pain. An unacceptable vision that will not go unavenged. The terror from within curls its massive form around the innocent, allowing that broken purity to bury itself against its protective warmth. Guarding what's left of that precious light as predatory eyes peer into the distance...finding the very thing that's caused such a travesty. Glowing orbs narrow on the target, causing its lips to curl up and away from rows of dagger like teeth in a silent snarl. Such an act will not go unpunished. The beast will remain still, allowing the wounded innocent to heal and find some kind of peace again. As time passes, it will lie in wait...giving it time to bring a plan into focus; processing it within the catacombs of a methodical mind. It has been sleeping for too long. Remaining hidden in the hopes that it would never have to rise... That the innocent would remain unharmed. But the fates have their own agenda...harsh lessons beaten into the gentle soul of an innocent that has only had the purest of intentions. This will not be allowed to simply fade into the winds as though it never happened. There are consequences. A reaction to every action. Whatever one sends out into the universe, they will get back three fold. A shimmer of cold blue/fire glares defiantly within the darkness. A silent promise of what's to come...
...nothing will ever be the same. -Fades to Black-
With a heavy heart, I force myself to type these words. With everything in my life, a mundane and productive thing. The same day in and day out. Becoming apart of the collective of blue collared society. Making a means as I focus on the future... Alas, I am silvered tongue in that statement. For in truth, I don't see a future anymore. All I see is the thick fog swirling around me. Trapped in moments of yesterday, pockets of heart breaking memories that tear me apart piece, by dying piece. The case of my transition through this time of mourning has been silent. I haven't dealt with the emotions that have been forced through my veins. In all this time, the realization of my world and everything in it being flipped upside down, has crippled me substantially. I've put on the brave face, forced myself to believe in it as I told myself like a Mantra that I Had to Keep Going. I didn't have time to stop and let myself cry. I didn't have the luxury to bury myself in the waves of grief that threatened to wash over me. I have bills to pay, feline children to take care of and my ghostly steed to keep running. All the cards were set. Placed precariously close to the edge of an unknown abyss. A terrible gush of wind has risen and has thrown my fragile little world into darkness. Money is fleeting, no matter how hard I work, I barely make ends meet. But I saw it in a positive light. I don't live far from work, so it's not much strain on Ellie. It won't burn much gas. Unbenounced to me, Ellie was sick. August 25th after leaving work and pulling right into the walgreens parking lot, her front right wheel made a horrific THUNK and when I parked, I realized it had gone sideways. I managed to get her home, parked, snapped a picture and immediately informed my brother who is currently in florida. After Grandpa Mike (Glenn's father in law) looked her over, we've learned that the people Dad had paid to make sure this didn't happen, had in fact, done Nothing and ripped him off. It wasn't our normal mechanic either. It was a different shop that supposedly specialized in that kind of work. They lied. And all this time...especially driving on the freeway...I could've been killed. But Ellie somehow kept going and only did this when I was less than a 2 minute drive from the house. I wasn't too upset. Knowing that it's only a 1.3 mile trek to work, about 30 minutes on foot. She will be fixed, I just need to come up with the money to pay for parts and a tow to my brother's shop in desert hot springs. She will need a new alignment afterward, and two new tires. I know I won't have a car for awhile, possibly not until late October. I only get paid so much every two weeks and I spend most of it on car insurance and my phone bill. So I kept a level head and began walking to and from work. Thanks to working Faire, the walk is a breeze. Walking in high temperatures and direct sunlight has been slightly...uncomfortable, but I've managed to just get through it. On the bright side, I've shrank even more since I started walking and I'm stronger. I think I've lost nearly an inch all over. So there's the positive in that. You also may have noticed the change in hair color. I didn't want to originally, but when I started working for PetCo, I was informed that I was allowed only natural colors. I had been debating on a darker color...so I went ahead and changed it. Didn't mean for it to come out nearly black, but it seems to fit me very well, in many aspects. Also, I had a bit of a breakdown last night when I was lying in bed. So much nervous energy was tearing through me and the next thing I knew, I was growling and clawing my sheets as I struggled to catch my breath. It was maybe six minutes total...but when the sobs finally subsided, I found myself completely exhausted and could only curl up against my pillows as my eyes remained shut. I couldn't remain angry and depressed. I had literally exhausted myself into silence. I actually slept. Hard. I didn't want to get up...but once 10am rolled around I knew I had to get coffee in me. It is my day off after all. -sighs softly and takes a drink of her coffee- I can see how mechanical and detached I sound. Honestly, I haven't really been myself. And the moments, though brief, when I have been... I felt weakened from emotion and shut off again. The only way I'm going to get through all of this internal head trauma is to simply allow it to run its course. If I feel the need to share, as I'm doing now, so be it. At least there's that part of me that still remains. At this very moment, I'm listening to 'Say Something, I'm Giving Up On You'. When this song first came out, I couldn't bear it. It reminded me of how badly I kept fighting to get Dad to listen to me. How fucking hard I fought to save him... Only to learn that no amount of bravado was going to stop Death from taking him to the other plane.
Now as I hear the lyrics, the song playing on repeat through the speakers... It has a different meaning. I want so desperately to know he's still, somehow, in existence. ...Tears are flowing down my face as I type these words... I question the reason why I'm even here. I wonder why I have this horrible pain inside and when will it ever stop. I fight the desperate need to be held, the only true thing that's healed me so many times before when my words won't work I just need to Feel...safe.
I wonder what's becoming of me as I push my beautiful feline boys away when they try to comfort me...
-pauses as another wave of spine-curling grief rips through her and has to calm down enough to keep typing with trembling fingers- I struggle with being positive these days. It seems that the moments I find myself happy, I'm suddenly slammed backwards. Honestly, I used to think there was only so much I could take before I was sent over the edge. I think I've realized a terrible truth about me. I have no limit. I just keep taking it. I feel like an indestructible machine created to power through each level of hell without stopping. No matter how many horrors it encounters, it's designed to go the designated course and return more or less intact. Though there is no visible damage, something within its mechanics has been changed. It's been altered in some way. It's not obvious at first...not until it's running for a short while and you can almost Feel the difference in the way its engine growls. A little harsher, a little deeper. As though something came back with it...
I feel altered and deeply scarred. That's how this works. The whole loss and grieving thing. I may come off callous, but it's really not that. I've been overwhelmed with emotion and now I'm numb from it. Though I'm trying to suss this out, trying to keep a gentle spirit about things... There's something terribly awful living inside me. Hidden within the gaping void that was left by Dad's death. Even though I knew it was coming, I wasn't ready. I wasn't ready to not have him in my life. I'm so broken and lost without him. -growls and chokes back the sob as tears start blurring her vision as they dash down her heated flesh- It's hard to explain why this is so devastating to someone who doesn't know. We had a Twin connection. He wasn't just my hero, he was my best friend and I fucking hate myself for crying like this as I'm trying to type. Makes seeing the keyboard incredibly hard through a blur of unwanted emotion. -pauses to gather her bearings- And on that note, I need to use the bathroom and then wash my face. Know that I'm not purposefully being dark and broody. I'm trying to find my way back. I love you and thank you all for your patience and understanding. -Anon-
