Of course now that I’m ready to take a picture of Mousiour F&*^tard’s angry, screaming face, he’s chilling politely in the window, watching all of the critter’s he’d like to try to murder.
Backyard wildlife makes me hopeful. Has since I was little. Means things are still growing, able to grow. Life is still around.
I was a bit of a morbid child with a sci-fi obsession.
It’s like I was tuned into Monsantos war on Life And the Food Cycle as We Know It.
The rest of this blog is NOT HAPPY. Graphically not happy.
Well. I slept shi&&y.
Horrible, awful nightmare’s. You know what’s worse than dreaming, in graphic emotional detail* about being kidnapped with your beloved** by BANE?***
Having the dream REPEAT ITSELF in SLOW MOTION WITH EVEN MORE DETAIL.
And then, do you know what is worse?
Having the second round of the most fucked up nightmare imaginable morph into a pseudo ending from my favorite novel, Sunshine**** (which of course had nothing to do with the novel…. sigh.), where:
a) I’m PREGNANT and,
b) the army helicoptors that are supposed to be rescuing me, instead shoot me up with thousands of these shiny silver balls and,
c) the next scene is an ariel of a dispassionate army doc sliding my dead, bloody, bullet ridden baby out from my between my legs, and dropping the corpse into a bucket while I’m screaming “YOU DIDN’T EVEN TRY TO SAVE HER.”
I wish I was joking.
Of course there wasn’t enough of this f$#@ed up sleep. I should have at least had a solid 8 hours but nooooooooo.
Then the waking nightmare began when I looked at my phone upon waking-JUST to text neighbor J that I couldn’t coffee this morning because I was crawling back in bed for therapeutic snuggles as soon as Amazing Child was off to school-and saw a response from my BIL about my SIL….
*Literally was so stressed out by this dream that I freaking disassociated and numbed out.
**At least no David. I would be rocking back and forth sobbing right now if my kid had been there too.
***I don’t even know what to say to you if you don’t know who Bane is.
****I do know what to say to you if you’ve, horror, never read Sunshine. Buy it and read it now.
“A gripping, funny, page-turning, pretty much perfect work of magical literature.”–Neil Gaiman.
*****This would, of course, be really painful under normal circumstances, but well, I am extra triggered because I’ve been somewhere similar.
I had an unplanned pregnancy (with the man of my dreams, PRAISE JESUS) and had a devastating ultrasound at five months that revealed my chid’s partial face.^
Talk about growing up fast.
^Bilateral Cleft lip and palate. I won’t do the whole “oh, as far as birth defects go, at least it’s one of the good ones, he’s healthy otherwise, blah, blah, blah, BLAH” thing here. It sucked. It was THE WORST.
It is THE WORST. Mother fucking fucking FUCK insurance.
I’ve literally been recovering^ for the last 8 years. Trauma, trauma, TRAUMA.
^Between my childhood in general (sorry mom and dad… I know you guys loved/love me and that you did your best), the way things went surrounding my marriage, the unplanned and unwanted^ pregancy
^I can genuinely say that I’m glad he happened. Now. But I won’t lie. It sucked for a very long time. When my doctor told me that having children would be difficult^, I was RELIEVED. And then God played a double joke on me: Haha, your PREGNANT. Haha, A SPECIAL NEEDS BABY.
If I were Job, God would have lost his bet.
^Acute endometriosis at age 14. Bedridden and in pain for all of highschool. Another long, sad, awful story. I mean, I do believe in….everything for a reason, there’s a point to the shit that happens because you’re learning lessons….but that just might be my brain’s build in coping mechs, you know? And I don’t see a point to all of the senseless horror that has happened and is happening around the world. I think it’s us functionals FUCKING THE FUCK UP.
No editing when it’s serious, guys.