I don’t know what I was thinking

I don’t know what I was thinking.

I thought that I missed my home.  But home has changed, nothing is how it was.  This is not what I wanted nor expected.

I was so excited to come stay here again.  I thought I missed some slice of comfort that I can now see is long gone.

I hate living without my love.  Life just is not the same without him in it.  I can’t wait to see him in a few days.  Quite honestly, it’s the only thing holding me together right now.

I cried all day and all night the first few days I was here.  I think I may have missed the “idea” of “home” and some MAJOR alone time but the reality does not feel as good as the idea initially did.

Part of me wants to be here, I miss my mom and I wanted to take advantage of spending some time with her.  But she too, is different.  Which is fine, that’s life, people change, I am just not used to this new mom I am experiencing.  But then again, maybe it’s me.  I have been actively doing this EMDR Therapy for over a year now and I am just now realizing as I am typing this; it’s not home or mom that has changed, it’s me.  I have changed and I now know that I cannot flourish in this environment.  Too bad it took me bringing back 2 and a half van loads of stuff and partially setting myself up a room to realize that.

I am so grateful that I can see this change and make the decisions I need to make for me. Which is what I thought I was doing, but I was wrong. Oh so very wrong.

I feel like my younger-selves had too much control of the the bus for a few weeks there.  They steered me in a direction that, sure, 10 years ago may have been a solid option, but here, today, in 2017 I am not so sure that this is the right way for my life-bus to be driving.  Now that I am back [home] I see how much better I was getting away.  I mistook (my own personal) anger and confusion as a sign that I need to go and completely dismissed that I am in therapy and that my disassociate tendencies have been playing tricks on me.

I am not the same person I was 3 years ago and I may never be the same.  The need to accept that.  I can’t go back.  I can’t get the years and all the mistakes back.  I can’t right all my wrongs and I need to stop trying to fit myself into who I think I am or who I was.  I am who I am and that is okay.  My heart wants something different now.  I know that there may be a lot of mom lectures in my near future but I need to remember what I want and that I need to stay true to myself now.  I am a full fledged adult.  I hope she realizes I am trying to do what is best for me and it’s okay if she disagrees.  It’s not her call to make anymore.

I feel like a lunatic.  I thought this is what I wanted and as soon as I got here my heart sank.  I tried desperately to not led the dread set in but it indeed bombarded me like a punch to the face.  I love him and I don’t want to live over a half hour away.  I don’t sleep the same without him next to me, I don’t feel like myself, and I have next to no appetite.  I thought living separately was just what I needed.  I don’t really know what I was thinking.  I isolate myself more here.  I get agitated faster here.  I am more prone to anxiety here.  There’s too many damn cats here.  I can’t go anywhere because there is no where to walk to, I am too low on gas to get to town [unnecessarily] and I don’t know what I would go to town for right now anyways.

A few more days.  I have already promised myself  to take myself and my cat back for at least the weekend this coming Friday.  I am so excited for Friday I don’t even know if I will sleep the night before.  I have already started pre-packing.

I just want to go back.  I can’t wait to go back.  I need to go back.

Grandma’s House

When I was a child I used to have this reoccurring nightmare.  I would wake terrified and disoriented, feeling a stress I could not understand and would not understand until 20 years later.

The nightmare was always the same.  I can still remember it.  I can see it.  I almost feel it.  I am at my Grandparents house, as a child I frequently stayed at their house as my father lived with them at the time and I visited my father on weekends and vacations.  I loved staying there.  I was treated nicely and made to feel wanted; my father and grandparents often called me “Princess” – not because I was a little Princess but because I was THEIR Princess.  I was allowed to be myself.  Nobody yelled at me unless there was a good reason. It felt good.  It felt safe.

In my nightmare I walk into the house as I always have, excited to see and hug my Grandparents – I was especially close to my Grandma.  As I walk in it appears no one is there.  I look around and I feel alone.  I realize my father is not behind me as he usually is.  “What is going on here?” I ask myself.  It’s quiet.  It’s so quiet that it is deafening.

I’m standing in the kitchen, it’s small but cozy, still has that 1970’s vibe to it.  I can still see the ever popular “Harvest Gold” refrigerator, brown accents, and dark wood cupboards  when I close my eyes.  So warm and inviting.  Always a buzzing place… but not this time.  This time it is not buzzing.  Grandma is not fluttering around cooking or baking something for Grandpa.  Grandpa is not in his chair with his tea and cigarette.  Something does not feel right.

I try to walk but its as if I have no feet.  Instead of taking steps I feel as though I am gliding.  I glide to the hall, everything looks dark.  I start checking rooms.  Every one – including mine – is empty.

I find myself unexplainably in the basement.  My Dads room.  The whole basement was almost all my dads room aside from a small laundry room to the right of the stairs when you reached bottom.  It was a neat laundry room, had its own chute from the bathroom and everything.  Oh how we loved to throw clothes and toys down it, rushing down the basement stairs and into the laundry room to see that our items had indeed made it into the basket. It was almost magical.

Nothing is as it should be.  There is no laundry.  My dads room looks bare.  Where are all of his things? Where’s the t.v.? The Bed? My Family??

I feel as though perhaps they forgot me.  But how?  They would never forget me.

This is when the Orbs show up – I get goosebumps just thinking about the orbs.  Three of them.  Three bright, white, circular orbs.  They came together floating down the basement stairs.  They approach me, they get so close I can almost touch them.  I feel like I know them.  Their presence is all too familiar.  Is this my dad and grandparents? Why are they like this?

We are not together long, myself and the Orbs.  They begin to bounce all around me as if in celebration.  I am still confused.  I don’t have time to make sense of it because the Orbs decide to hover by the stairs.  I move towards them.  I hope that maybe they will lead me to where everyone is.  I get near to them only to have them bounce back up the stairs.  I run after them as fast I can.  I’m back in the kitchen.  I look around and there is no sign of anything or anyone.  I suddenly feel very alone and very sad.  I feel abandoned and lost.  Sometimes I start to cry, sometimes I call out for them hoping they will come running from somewhere to hold and comfort me.

This is always when I wake up.  I would wake up in my room, at my grandparents house.  I remember thinking of how horrible it would be if that really happened.  I would always feel a sense of sadness after these Nightmares even though I was relieved to know I hadn’t been abandoned and I was not alone… Yet.

Over the years my Grandparents retired, they decided to sell their house and move a few Provinces over.  My Dad got his own place and I started just visiting him on weekends and vacations, sans g-ma and g-pa.  I got to go visit my Grandparents during summer vacations which I always looked forward to.

I did not know at the time but this was the beginning of my Nightmare.  My Grandma was my best friend and she moved away.  Without the glue of my grandparents holding the family together, we fell apart.  By my early 20’s I had stopped going to see my Dad because he was drinking too much.  I found out I missed my Grandparents 50th Wedding Anniversary because NOBODY REMEMBERED TO INVITE ME.  As time goes by I find out my Grandfather is not well and neither is my father.  I have called all over Canada more then once to track down my Dad so I can find out if he is okay.

My Grandfather died before I could say goodbye.  It breaks my heart that I could not even afford to fly out for the funeral.  My father predicted his own death and I did not listen.  I spoke with him only 6 months before his death and had no idea it would be our last conversation.  He told me he was going to die.  I told him that was crazy talk.  I had not seen him in years.  He told me he’d be in my Province for summer and would love to see me, all he wants is to see me.  He never gets to.  By summer he is gone.

I watched my father die.  He spend a month in ICU, lost both of his legs, and due to complications did not survive.  I went to visit as often as I could, I talked to him, I held his hand and begged him not to go.  On July 3, 2013 he left me.  It was not long after this that I realized my Nightmare is now my reality.

My Grandparents old house still stands but no one I know lives there.  No one will be coming to take me there.  No one is waiting to shower me with hugs and love there.

My Grandma is still with us, but lives out East. I talk to her on the phone from time to time.  I don’t call as often as I should because as happy as I am to talk to her I get very sad.  I am sad for all the time lost.  I am sad I need to jump on a plane to go see her.  I am sad that she left.  I miss her.  I miss Grandpa.  I miss Dad.  I want them back, I want it all back.  I want to wake up in my room at Grandma’s house and have it all just be a Nightmare.

DAILY PROMPT : Nightmare