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The Waters Deep

Life's about swimming to the top and dancing on the waves!

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diet

Taking my feet to better places

GoldBug Feet Pic

Leaving the couch and TV behind and taking my feet to better places.

Getting out of my head and into Nature.

Letting go of Fear!

Big Clumps of hair

Trentens pic

Last night I dreamt that my hair was falling out in big nasty clumps the size of a silver dollar or bigger.  I was at a Halloween dance and I pretended it was part of my costume, even to myself.  I left the party in a pickup truck and was driving home in the dark.  I was thinking and thinking about the awfulness of my problem and the corners on the road kept getting tighter and tighter and I was having a hard time keeping myself on the road.  Then I didn’t.  I came around a corner and just had a calmness about me as I missed the turn.  I knew I couldn’t stop it or control it.  In slow motion I tumbled off the road and through the air.  I thought to myself, “of course there’s no ditch”.  Down and down I went and crashed at the bottom.  I wasn’t thinking about my hair anymore.  I was thinking about the physical pain and wondering if my soul could live through it.  I went to school the next day but everything was so loud and I couldn’t understand the words anymore.  And I hurt everywhere.  My hair was completely gone and I’d let one of the ‘druggy’ Emo art students paint a kaleidoscope of 3 dimensional scenes where my hair used to be.  But I couldn’t stand all the noise and the chatter. I couldn’t stand all the people.  It was just to much work to be there.  I had to go where it was quiet.  I sat on the top of a hill and watched them playing down below, I looked up and saw the brightness that the world can be.  I wasn’t happy and I wasn’t sad.  I just was. And it was ok for now.

I think I may be tired of dealing with people this week.  And my youngest daughter’s hair has started falling out.  She called me last night to tell me she had three more bald spots.  It made my stomach hurt.   I think it scares me more than it does her.  She simply sweeps the rest of her thick dark hair over the big bald spots and bobby pins it.  Moves on with her day.  She has the ability to compartmentalize in a manner that probably saves her from going completely crazy from the stress she has in her life.  I do not have the same gift.  So I’m closer to crazy than I normally like to be.

 

Broccoli is for Trees Grammy

My 3 year old Granddaughter and I playing alphabet flash cards:

HER: “You be the baby and I’ll be the mommy”.  She holds a card up and says, “A is forrrrrrrr?” Looking at me sternly… Eyebrows raised almost to hairline level, lips pursed,  hand high on her waist, elbow jutting out.
ME: Trying to not laugh, pretending to think hard, “Apple”
HER: “Good job! I knew you could do it. Your so smart!! Hi five baby!  Apples are good because they aren’t green. But Green is for Grass and broccoli is for trees and why do you eat grass and trees all the time grammy and Is ‘B’ for Broccoli or Trees because broccoli is gross?”

HaHa… she’s been watching what I eat but isn’t so impressed.

Zoe

 

 

 

We aren’t really here

 

I dreamt last night that I went to live in a big giant house with lots of rooms.  Husband was with me.  I had my arms looped through his.  We were walking down a long hallway, trying to find the kitchen, when a man walked right through us.  I thought, “that was weird”.  Then a little girl did the same thing.  They didn’t even see us.  Then there was a woman and I noticed that I could see right through her.  She looked at me and I screamed, “I’m not afraid of you”.  There were ghosts everywhere and they were talking to me.  They all wanted jobs.  The house was big and they thought we should turn it into a hotel retreat with an organic garden and fly fishing.  I couldn’t figure out how I was going to teach the ghost’s to communicate with the guests.  It was going to be a problem.  My daughters showed up to see the new house and the only one who would talk to me was my three year old granddaughter.  She was full of questions and told me she loved me and I was her best friend.  Her mother kept telling her to stop it.  I was getting mad and frustrated because they wouldn’t let her talk to me.  They look at Husband and tell him to come with them, they want to see the gardens.  They start to leave and I’m screaming and screaming for them to stop.  The woman ghost looks at me and I hear her thinking, “They can’t see us”.  And I know.  I’m so sad. 

The food in the cupboard has changed

foodpainsGoodbye Wine.  Goodbye Processed Food.  Goodbye Gluten.  Goodbye Sugar.  Goodbye Caffeine.  Hellooooo Whole Foods.  Helloooooo REAL Foods.  By the way:  It’s ridiculously difficult to eat ‘whole’ and to be conscious about what I put into my body.  I feel like I’m in Kindergarten for Real Fooders.

Time Log July 4 2015:   I’m 20 days sober.   Not just from alcohol. I’ve been juicing and eating fresh oranges and salad greens and garbonzo beans. No coffee, soda, wine or fast food.  First Fourth of July I’ve celebrated in years without a bottle of something and a hotdog.  I had grapes (my salute to wine) veggies, cheese and brown rice crackers, hummus and veggies.  We swam at the nasty muddy reservoir and I was thankful for our country and not getting a leech on my leg…. or anywhere else for that matter.

 

 

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