That's me, the fixer. Sometimes at least.
Where do I begin so that I record this.
Before I do, I want to write about my dream. I think it was the last dream before I woke up this morning. And I woke around 4am.
The order of the dream is now somewhat muddled, well the early stages of the dream. There was point when I was with my mum who was very ill and dying. She looked much younger than her age at her death in reality. She knew she was very ill and so did we all, my dad and I. For some reason I went off with my dad. I can't describe easily where we were. In my dream it was unfamiliar too. It was a sort of marshy wood and there was a wooden cabin that we were going towards. I would describe it now as a sort of Tardis. As we approached it I felt anticipation and anxiety but it was inevitable I was going in. I felt terror throughout the dream. I was terrified of my dad. I was being nice because I was trying to outsmart him, which I knew in my heart of hearts was impossible. However, I was people-pleasing. He was smarmy. There was another man there too. I was also wary of him. I know this was a dangerous environment but my dad was stopping from getting to mum and I had to play along if I was ever going to see her again. And yet I knew I was never going to get to see her again because of my dad. And then he was getting closer and closer. Little tormenting gestures, innuendos were increasing and his look was repulsing me. Inappropriate touches here and there. I woke out of the dream when we were still in the cabin and I was trying to persuade him and then becoming more insistent on getting to see mum. I kept asking when will we leave. He kept finding little tasks to do in the cabin. and we were in a more confined space when I woke up and immediately had to get up. I went back to bed and fell asleep. On waking up the next time I had initially forgotten he dream and then it slowly started creeping back. More and more detail.
I wanted to vomit and wanted to tear my skin off. And then I just didn't want to leave my flat. I have of course. I knew I had. to.
I needed to record that for myself. Why? Because I do forget that things were real and not okay. I tend to think I've exaggerated things and even think I've made them up at times. The very physicality of the wakeful state is a reminder that things were never really okay.
Moving on and The Fixer.
How often I say that something isn't right for me and feel terrible that someone is affected. Of course people are affected people all the time but it's not my responsibility. Yet I take on a sense of deep guilt and shame. And then I need to fix them and/or fix me.
The feeling of guilt was so intense I just couldn't sit still. I wanted to distract myself because studying required focus and all I could do was continuously wander in my thoughts. Thank goodness I was aware of this and distracted for a while, nothing unhealthy, just tittle tattle nonsense her and there. Eventually I was able to bring my attention into my books and very interesting it was. Then a lovely walk in the afternoon sunshine BUT wit some background noise thoughts, constantly whirring over and over. I went to a meeting and that arrested the whirring for a while. And then sleep but the next morning was ablast with damnation and hell.
As Shakespeare said in his play Macbeth " a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing."t is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing."
I had left this post alone and so won't continue it now. I've lost my thread. But post it for record sake.
I need my HP to iiude me from this fixer role in all it's guises. Glad to be shown, as it gives me the opportunity to change.
I get irritated by fixers too
Bliss
XX
Where do I begin so that I record this.
Before I do, I want to write about my dream. I think it was the last dream before I woke up this morning. And I woke around 4am.
The order of the dream is now somewhat muddled, well the early stages of the dream. There was point when I was with my mum who was very ill and dying. She looked much younger than her age at her death in reality. She knew she was very ill and so did we all, my dad and I. For some reason I went off with my dad. I can't describe easily where we were. In my dream it was unfamiliar too. It was a sort of marshy wood and there was a wooden cabin that we were going towards. I would describe it now as a sort of Tardis. As we approached it I felt anticipation and anxiety but it was inevitable I was going in. I felt terror throughout the dream. I was terrified of my dad. I was being nice because I was trying to outsmart him, which I knew in my heart of hearts was impossible. However, I was people-pleasing. He was smarmy. There was another man there too. I was also wary of him. I know this was a dangerous environment but my dad was stopping from getting to mum and I had to play along if I was ever going to see her again. And yet I knew I was never going to get to see her again because of my dad. And then he was getting closer and closer. Little tormenting gestures, innuendos were increasing and his look was repulsing me. Inappropriate touches here and there. I woke out of the dream when we were still in the cabin and I was trying to persuade him and then becoming more insistent on getting to see mum. I kept asking when will we leave. He kept finding little tasks to do in the cabin. and we were in a more confined space when I woke up and immediately had to get up. I went back to bed and fell asleep. On waking up the next time I had initially forgotten he dream and then it slowly started creeping back. More and more detail.
I wanted to vomit and wanted to tear my skin off. And then I just didn't want to leave my flat. I have of course. I knew I had. to.
I needed to record that for myself. Why? Because I do forget that things were real and not okay. I tend to think I've exaggerated things and even think I've made them up at times. The very physicality of the wakeful state is a reminder that things were never really okay.
Moving on and The Fixer.
How often I say that something isn't right for me and feel terrible that someone is affected. Of course people are affected people all the time but it's not my responsibility. Yet I take on a sense of deep guilt and shame. And then I need to fix them and/or fix me.
The feeling of guilt was so intense I just couldn't sit still. I wanted to distract myself because studying required focus and all I could do was continuously wander in my thoughts. Thank goodness I was aware of this and distracted for a while, nothing unhealthy, just tittle tattle nonsense her and there. Eventually I was able to bring my attention into my books and very interesting it was. Then a lovely walk in the afternoon sunshine BUT wit some background noise thoughts, constantly whirring over and over. I went to a meeting and that arrested the whirring for a while. And then sleep but the next morning was ablast with damnation and hell.
As Shakespeare said in his play Macbeth " a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing."t is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing."
I had left this post alone and so won't continue it now. I've lost my thread. But post it for record sake.
I need my HP to iiude me from this fixer role in all it's guises. Glad to be shown, as it gives me the opportunity to change.
I get irritated by fixers too
Bliss
XX
No comments:
Post a Comment