Tag Archives: Anxiety

Dreams – Part Two (Adventures in Dreamland)

Posted on November 2, 2012 by funnygurl2

To read about the evolution of my dream journal, please read Dreams – Part One (Dream Journal) https://imnotstalkingyou.com/2012/11/01/dreams-part-one-dream-journal/

When I dream about home, I most often dream about the trailer I lived in between the ages of 8 and 23.  The other night I even dreamed that my son was there, which is really weird because that place is long gone.  My son has never been there.  He wasn’t even a glimmer in my eye last time I was there.

This where i am when I dream of home. The saddest picture ever. I came of age in that home, and then it was just pulled out to the curb to be sold for best offer.


I also dreamed I had to grab my son and hide with him under the bathroom sink in the half (more the size of a quarter) bath because mobsters were coming to shoot us.  (The whole time, I kept thinking in the dream, “Was there really enough room for me to hide under that sink?”)  When I woke up, I was scared of the mobsters with guns blazing, of course, but not surprised.  I have dreams of people with guns chasing me every so often.

Illustration from my dream journal about my recurring wrist dream.


The first dream I can ever remember having was also one of the few recurring dreams I have ever had.   That was when I was really young – 4 or 5.  In my dream I was wearing my blue hooded sweatshirt and running away from bad guy sin a big grey factory.  There were big tanks and all sorts of walkways from the ceiling.  The bad guys saw me and shot me. I help up my wrist and there was just a hole through it with black sides.  No blood, not a realistic wound.  I could look right through the hole in my wrist at the bad guys. 

What terrible person would chase this girl through a scary factory and shoot her through the wrist?


Here it is in poem form:

The recurring dream

On a night i no longer remember
i got tucked into bed
covered up my head
and my mind turned on me

they are after me again
gun in hand
faster still i run
till this hole in my wrist is done

my blue-hooded jacket
among all the metal
the metal that passed right through me
without me noticing

they are after me again
gun in hand
faster still i run
till this hole in my wrist is done

fast-moving among the rafters
their steps echoing on the catwalk
thump-thump-thump
like my little heart

they are after me again
gun in hand
faster still i run
till this hole in my wrist is done

ducking behind the giant tanks
doesn’t matter what is in them
maybe it is the blood
that doesn’t flow from me

they are after me again
gun in hand
faster still i run
till this hole in my wrist is done

i can’t see their identities
just dark forms ever-moving
why don’t i stop & face them
the faceless

they are after me again
gun in hand
faster still i run
till this hole in my wrist is done

i’m scared, it’s dark
i run
but it’s all familiar
deep down
it is all a part of me

they are after me again
gun in hand
faster still i run
till this hole in my wrist is done

i’ve got you now
but you can’t protect me
from what only the night can see

they are after me again
gun in hand
faster still i run
till this hole in my wrist is done

i still can’t see
who i was meant to
grow up & be
this life is just a blur to me
as i run

they are after me again
gun in hand
faster still i run
till this hole in my wrist is done

i have a good life
but it is hard to see
looking through this blackened
hole in me

they are after me again
gun in hand
faster still i run
till this hole in my wrist is done

with roots like these
i can’t leave
but still I try to shake free
imagine it all some other way

they are after me again
gun in hand
faster still i run
till this hole in my wrist is done

i want what i don’t have
i don’t have all that I want
i’ll never be satisfied
with this empty hole

they are after me again
gun in hand
faster still i run
till this hole in my wrist is done

it’s eating away at me
still i run further
i can see them chasing me
always chasing me
my most vivid unreal memory
–JLS 05/11/06

I guess maybe that symbolizes my anxieties that I can run, but not hide from.  They continue to pursue me.

I heard a kid in school onetime say that his mother had told him that if you dream the same dream three nights in a row, it will come true.

Shortly after I heard this, I had two dreams about my dad in about four night’s time.  I was so terrified I would have the third dream and it would come true that I couldn’t sleep for several nights.  The third dream never came.

The first dream, if I can remember, was my dad came back and we were talking in the kitchen.  (My dad died before I was born.) He thought I should be happy to see him, but I was really mad.  I was yelling at him that, “It was wrong you weren’t here all those years.  I had to grow up without a dad.  Do you know how terrible that is?  You want me to just forgive you?”

But in the second dream, he wanted to take me away with him and I was no longer angry.  I was asking him questions and was really curious.  I never did give him an answer in that dream.  After I woke up, I was afraid if I had another dream that I would say “yes” and I would die in my sleep in order to go with him.  It scared me very much.

I dream about tornadoes every so often.  The dreams reflect my real life feelings about them.  I am scared to death, but also very fascinated by them.  The thought of a tornado coming for me is terrifying (This time, its personal?).  Yet, the thrill of a tornado warning trip to the basement or watching a storm chaser show on TV is exciting.  (Once my husband and I drove through an area that had been hit by a tornado two weeks earlier.  Not a pretty site.  So devastating.  I couldn’t even bring myself to take pictures.)

I am out of the habit of writing down my dreams nowadays, but this dreams was very “powerful” and, once you read it you will see that it just begs to be included in a blog post. I have used it to show the format for which I record my dreams. (Click the picture to enlarge.)

As I come to the end of this post, I am torn.  Do I go back to a dream journal as a means of greater understanding of self?  Or do I face the fact that I am adult with too many other responsibilities in my life right now?

Hmmm…Maybe I will sleep on it.

I’m not stalking you. is NOW ON FACEBOOK! “Like” that I’m not stalking you and get an update when there is a new post to read. (It is sort of like YOU are stalking ME.)

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Issues with Tissues

Posted on October 23, 2012 by funnygurl2

In another one of my more confessional blogs, I have to admit something that my closest friends and family already know.

I have issues with tissues.

STOP LAUGHING!!! I know that it sounds cute and rhymey, but it is a serious issue. It causes awkward social situations. More so than I would normally encounter with having anxiety and being a picky eater.

I think my issue comes from when I was a small child. My mother LOVES tissues. (Facial tissue, such as Puffs or Kleenex.) She would have a box or two in every room of the house. She used to sit on the end of the couch and use like ten tissues in one sitting. She would ball up each one and lob it toward the wastebasket. Now, you need to realize that the wastebasket was at the OTHER end of the couch. All the tissues made a pink ring on the floor around the wastebasket. So, like, the next time she got up (possibly the next morning), she would pick them up and take care of them.

This thoroughly repulsed me!

So, from a young age, I refused to use tissues.

    Reason #1: Because my mom LOVES them.

    Reason #2: Because the texture is awful! Too soft!

    Reason #3: Because they can’t capture my snot.

When I blow my nose, I make a big blow. It cannot be contained by a tissue.

How does this lead to awkward social situations, you ask?

Think about when you are the most upset. When you are crying (for any reason: death, injury, etc.). What do people hand you?

A FRICKIN’ TISSUE!

I am perfectly happy using paper towels for any purpose someone might use tissues for.

So, if you see me in distress, NEVER, EVER hand me a tissue.

Thank you in advance.

* My green-haired friend coined the actual term “Issues with Tissues”.

** I don’t have a fear or phobia of tissues. I just find the texture highly displeasing. I do not have an issue with toilet paper for toilet needs. Unless the toilet paper gets water dripped on it from the sink and becomes damp. That totally grosses me out. That makes it seem like it has already been used or something. And, oh yeah, it is still too soft to blow my nose with.

I’m not stalking you. is NOW ON FACEBOOK! “Like” that I’m not stalking you and get an update when there is a new post to read. (It is sort of like YOU are stalking ME.)

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What I Learned This Week – 10/7/12

Posted on October 7, 2012 by funnygurl2

Introduction to my week

In my life, I have participated in some strange events because something told me that I should.  An example would be when I played a ghoul on the Ghost Train.  I ended up on the train with the adults, rather than with my high school classmates outside in a field freezing and playing with a chainsaw.  I have always felt weird about this my whole life.

I just realized: THAT WAS AWESOME!!!  I didn’t have to freeze or, more importantly, spend time with people who had no desire to spend time with me.

Other events have included going to presidential campaign events, genealogical meetings, weather-spotter meetings, and numerous others.

A sticker I got from WordCamp that is now affixed to my puter


One such event I participated in yesterday.   I signed up and attended WordCamp.  Now, the write up for this event describes it as such:

WordCamp Detroit 2012 is managed and organized by a group of people who share a few key interests: Passion for the web, the love of WordPress, the drive to teach and belief in the a**-kicking city of Detroit.

From: http://2012.detroit.wordcamp.org/about/

Having actually attended the event, I would say it was a mish-mash of speakers of various levels of professional speaking ability and various levels of experience in WordPress/website coding/google/none and/or all of the above.  And you really need more than a basic level of knowledge of WordPress.

What I learned this week was that there is some degree of knowledge between writing a goofy little blog in my living room and the info that was dispensed at WordCamp.  And I am not sure where I need to look to find that info.

The word I heard over and over again that seems to be my biggest deficiency right now seems to be something called a plugin.  Or rather, many, many of them.  If my blog suddenly STARTS stalking you, then you will know I did something wrong:)

I also learned this week that I can put on my big girl panties (I hate that term) and drive all by my little self to big, bad Detroit on the frightening freeways and find the scary parking garage, and make it home again.

I was literally terrified to go all by myself.

My husband even offered to drop me off and pick me up.  But it is one thing for me to disrupt my life to attend an event, it is another to expect my husband to disrupt his entire Saturday as well.

Driving before 8:00AM on a Saturday, the traffic was not bad at all, and the one detour I had didn’t take me beyond the road I needed to turn on to.  And no one mugged me and stole my laptop on the way to the workshop.  Which was my second biggest fear, next to driving.  I had even emptied out my extra credit cards from my wallet so I would have fewer companies to call when my wallet was stolen.  And then I put my drivers license and credit card in my pocket while I walked on the street, so that they hopefully wouldn’t be stolen at all.

Comerica Park from the window of the WordCamp venue


The drive home was another matter.  My return home Google Maps directions looked very clean-cut and easy.  WRONG!  It turns out the venue was right next to Comerica Park (Home of the Detroit Tigers).  Like, you could see it right out the fifth floor windows where we were all day.  WordCamp got over one hour before the first Tigers playoff game of the year.  And Google Maps wanted me to drive right in front of Comerica Park.  So did all the one way streets that made it impossible for me to go any other direction.

I either missed my turn or the road was blocked there or both.  I ended up on Woodward Avenue, which was kind of a lucky break.  It is a very major road, so there were signs directing me back to the freeway.  Where I ran into all the traffic still arriving to the Tigers game. 

And wouldn’t you know it, my Service Engine Soon light popped on as I am trying to not collide with anyone in game time traffic?  I seriously have nightmares like that.  (My husband tells me to ignore the SES light.  It seems to only be an issue in the winter.  He claims it has to do with level of ethanol in the gasoline, or something like that.)

I was driving 80mph in the slow lane.  I couldn’t wait to get home to my safe little house.

The most important thing that I learned might be that although I don’t want to do something (and every molecule in my body is screaming at me not to), I can do it if I make myself.

I’m not stalking you. is NOW ON FACEBOOK! “Like” that I’m not stalking you and get an update when there is a new post to read. (It is sort of like YOU are stalking ME.)

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Sleeps With Stuffed Animals

Posted on September 20, 2012 by funnygurl2

I sleep with a stuffed animal.

Every night.

There. I said it. And I am not ashamed. Although you probably think less of me now.

Old Barfey in the foreground


Growing up, I always slept with stuffed animals. As I grew up, I consistently slept with Old Barfey every night. (For more on Barfey, click here.) Old Barfey was the right size to wrap my arms around and his ground nutshells provided the perfect amount of weight to prevent him from bouncing out of bed in the night. I loved his aged nappy fur. Touching it gave me a sense of security.

As I got older, I feared I would lose Barfey’s nose one night in a freak boating accident. (I kill me.) So, I admit, I took other stuffed animals into my bed. (Is that considered sleeping around? Does that make me a plush slut?) It was hard to find one that was the right size and softness. A stuffy whose quality was good enough that fur wouldn’t fall out instantly. I found that generic animals usually won out over licensed characters. And cuteness in the daytime did not always equal comfort in the night.

I moved out and got my own apartment. Did I still need a stuffed animal to sleep with? Hells ya! It was lonely and creepy in my apartment all alone at night.

Then my boyfriend (now-husband) moved in. It wasn’t so lonely then. But he didn’t find the both of us sleeping in my twin bed comfortable, so for several years we would take turns, one sleeping on the couch and one sleeping in the twin bed. No boyfriend to cuddle = I still needed a stuffed animal.

We bought a Queen size bed. (My boyfriend said we should have gotten a King. There is no way that would have fit in my apartment. We could barely walk around the Queen size.) Guess what? It turns out my boyfriend was not a cuddler. And I usually went to bed before him anyway. So, I still had a stuffed animal.

I tried on and off for a period of time to go to sleep without a stuffed animal. I could. But it took a lot longer to fall asleep and I didn’t sleep as well. I tend to have panic attacks as I am trying to fall asleep. A lack of stuffed animal seemed to make them markedly worse.

Dave sleeping with a borrowed friend


We moved into our house in 2004 and got a dog. Finally, I thought, I can snuggle with my canine. Dave is furry and orange and beautiful. But my husband instituted a “no dog on the bed” rule. Which stayed in place about 15 months, until my husband got a dog of his own. Two dogs, guess which one sleeps on the bed most nights–my husband’s dog, Parker. He is all legs and he snores. Although I must say, he comes in handy come wintertime. Parker is a short-hair Pointer, so he shares his heat better than Dave, who is a fluffy Lab-Chow mix. She keeps her heat to herself.

Parker Pointer


But even with a snoring Pointer next to me, I find that I still sleep better with a stuffed animal in my arms. My current favorites are larger than I would have chosen as a kid. There are two Build-A-Bears, a Stitch, A Ty Panda Bear (Beckett, created exclusively for Borders), and Max, from the Grinch Who Stole Christmas. My asbestos friend bought me Max while I was in the hospital having my son. I had told her I needed a stuffy to sleep with while I was there. He didn’t help that much. I really didn’t get much sleep while in the hospital anyway.

Current Selection: Adult-Sized


So, there. I have admitted that I am a grown woman who sleeps with stuffed animals. What is there to be ashamed of? So I find comfort in a pile of fur and plastic pellets? A bundle of plush and polyester fiberfill? Isn’t that better than resorting to sleeping pills or alcohol? Isn’t it better than being the crazy cat lady and having a house that smells like ammonia?

Everyone, find a stuffed animal that meets your particular needs and snuggle up with it tonight and see if you don’t sleep better. Plus, you could have fun going to Build-A-Bear! But make sure you take a small child with you, for cover:)

I’m not stalking you. is NOW ON FACEBOOK! “Like” that I’m not stalking you and get an update when there is a new post to read. (It is sort of like YOU are stalking ME.)

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What I Learned This Week – 9/16/12

Posted on September 16, 2012 by funnygurl2


This week I learned that Ugly Betty is a really good show. I know it hasn’t aired since 2010, but I have been watching reruns every weekday. The writing is so good, the characters so catty, and the actors all just eat their rolls up. I am especially liking Becki Newton (the blond receptionist) lately, although she didn’t impress me much when I watched Ugly Betty during its prime time run.

Amanda (played by Becki Newton)


I must admit though, I am now in trouble.

I have discovered Ugly Betty is on streaming Netflix.

This is both good and bad. The good is that I can watch it at my convenience and not have to starve my son from 1-3PM M-F. But it allows for things like me watching four episodes yesterday. I am naughty.

Betty: Mark, I started a blog!
Mark: Oh, a blog…That is so six years ago.


I have also learned that Once Upon a Child is a great place to shop, but not so great to turn in items to. I left with the same high chair/swing and giant plastic toy I showed up with. My items were rejected, which left me feeling rejected as well.

I guess part of the problem is my delusion that I should be able to get back some of the value out of the expensive items I had to buy to set up house for my shorty. Technically, I used the high chair and/or swing every day for two years. I guess that MIGHT mean I got my value out of it.

Now the high chair/swing is out of my kitchen. But, it is still filling up my car. Doh.

I’m not stalking you. is NOW ON FACEBOOK! “Like” that I’m not stalking you and get an update when there is a new post to read. (It is sort of like YOU are stalking ME.)

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