Drunken Blogging

Well of course there have been worse weeks, but this one was quite bad. If there's one thing that gets the better of me it's someone telling me i am wrong when i am right. I'm a child that way. So my chest pains are back, and i had to sit through two doctors telling me that i am imagining the pain and there is nothing wrong with me. It's partly my fault.. I wake up, go to work, hold my meetings, go about my day, walk in to the doctors cabinet, wait, get admitted, tell him my symptoms with a clear straight face, i am factual, i don't whine or scream or hold my chest in agony. So when the x-rays and such come out normal how is he to know that every time i breathe i feel like a piece of glass is cutting through my chest? How is he to know that i need to pause and break between sentences to get my bearings and stop panting? How is he to know that i need to sit down after the effort exerted brushing my hair? If i just say i am in pain and act and talk completely fine, really, how is he to believe me when i say the echo's are wrong?
Then i went to the best doctor in Cairo, and he sat me down, and listened to me, actually listened to me, and after an hour told me that even though everything looks fine, my pains were back because i was sick again. And that was all i needed, someone to tell me i had a right to feel sick, and to give me something for the pain to go away, and things were beginning to look up.
Then a man waved a gun in my face. My first encounter with a gun in real life, in my office. And i saw just how crazy people can get, how logic is not mandatory, how some people really have no sense of right or wrong, how corroded and vain some minds are, how power drunk they get. A gun in my office, the second he took it out of the grip i lost all sense of anything else, i didn't hear the swear words being shouted over my head, i don't know who came out of the office or went in, all i saw was the gun, my eyes completely fixated on it's every movement willing it back into it's grip. Then i spent four hours in the police station, three of which i spent giggling with my friend in a completely out of context way, maybe that was the shock of it.
And then that blew over, and the panic subsided, and i went back to work where everyone had started joking about the gun in the factory incident, and then a girl i had coached and helped get promoted came in and gave me a present, a little silver pendant with my name written in arabic and a flower on top. She hugged me for my belated birthday and made my day sweet again. She had made it herself, she made my heart melt.
It's a good job where you can contain a gun situation and get such a nice present all in one day...
But then the shock wouldn't wear off, so i had to get a drink, and the drink turned into a few too many, and before we knew it the bottle of wine was gone and here we are...
Blogging in drunkenness about the off throwing week.

Note to Friend

Sand-e wrote this as a comment on my last post:

Once upon a time there was a little girl called N who dreamed of that just right fit for her bum on the couch. Warm, comfortable, well fed and content she fell asleep and woke up only to come to the realization that it was just a dream... and in her distress with figuring out the facts she woke up only to find that she'd done so before entirely experiencing her dream for what it was.

Sand-e is a blogger close to my heart, she usually leaves comments on my most heart felt posts, she leaves comments on ambiguous posts i'm sure no one gets, she knows when to say what, and to be honest her vocabulary and sentence construction are sometimes too advanced for me that i have to read the sentences several times to get it.
I read this comment over and over, what does she mean? That i've been delusional? That i burst my own bubble? That i get caught up in analysis too much to enjoy the experience?

Is she wicked enough to mean nothing in particular other than to let me come up with my own afraid to face truths?

So Sand-e, this is for you;

Once upon a time there was a little girl called N who dreamed of that just right fit for her bum on the couch. Warm, comfortable, well fed and content she fell asleep and woke up only to come to the realization that it was just a dream... and in her distress with figuring out the facts she woke up only to find that she'd done so before entirely experiencing her dream for what it was. But then she remembered that dreams are realities, and realities are dreams, because she was once told that our perceptions weave our lives. Now it's a tough paradigm shift back from distress to contentment, especially illusory contentment, after all warmth and comfort are not emotions to be saved in a bottle for emergency need...
So she did what she does best, she inhaled - though that hurts these days- and she fixed her eyesight on her feet, the feet that took her every place she's been, and out of every mess she's made and she smiled at the power of her feet. Those feet combined with lucid reality meant that the shit could just go ahead and hit the fan, and her bum would remain nicely fitting to that couch.

Don't mind me, i'm in the weirdest mood today, please feel free to tell me what it is you actually meant :)

Security

My boyfriend has gotten used to having me around.
He knows that if he sends me a message, i will sooner or later reply.
He knows that if he wants to make plans i will accommodate them.
He knows that if i don't pick up i will be calling him back the next chance i get.
He knows that if i sit next to him i will reach out for him if he doesn't reach out first.
And he knows that if we fight i will want to work things out in the end.

My boyfriend is now secure and knows that i am there....

I have been twitching and twirling in my place for ages avoiding arriving at this place at any cost where he can slack off and get cosy... Where he can sit back and know that i wont just up and go for no reason...

Is there any way to put this off any longer? Or do i just grab a book and make myself comfortable too?

Choice

If you woke up today and had to choose all the people in your life again, would you choose the same people you have now?

Would you chose your partner again?

The friends you've had all your life?

If you never knew the brand of coffee you drink today, would you blindly choose it again?

Would you? Really?

Seeing Through

She sat me next to her on the beach, and started asking me questions. She's a friend of a friend, even though she was sharing a room with me and this was our first one on one encounter since i had arrived the night before. She was older and from another part of the arab world, and really a testament to educated, broad minded and yet traditional arab women.
She told me to sit close while she asked me all the questions, i was the last one there to be tested as i had displayed no interest really in what was supposed to be a fascinating personality test. The day was beautiful, i had spent most of it swimming and playing in the sand with a friend's one year old, and it was close to sunset and i was beat from walking hunchbacked for hours holding the baby's hands while he attempted his newly found talent to walk/stumble on his own feet.
I sat down next to her, completely slumped in my chair, and lightly answered questions about old keys and apples, dark caves and bears, horses and the sea and finally the perfect house i suddenly saw and the mug sitting on the table.
My answers were short, one sentence if not a few words, and her interest in my answers though i considered them to be very fickle, was truly deep.

"Do you want to hear the analysis?"

"yes, of course" faking an interest to be somewhat polite.

"You carry your memories everywhere you go, you treasure all that has happened to you and your past is very much with you all the time, with all it's very good and very bad.
You are unable to walk away from your fears and threats, when faced with a threatening situation you seek control, you must assess, analyze and contain, and then you walk away when peace is restored, even if within you the situation had not passed at all, if you walk away from a situation that went beyond your control, you never go back to it.
Death is something you do not think about, it is not even an after thought, you have no interest whatsoever in the subject, and you would avoid handling related topics at absolutely any cost.
You like your life to be somewhat difficult, challenging, and you take the challenge every time, you are fearless in the face of life, very little danger would put you off from going after what you want.
You indulge in what people classify as sins or the forbidden, you indulge in peace and truly believe that it is your born right to satisfy your desires should they yield no harm to others, you also understand that others may not understand this, it is very rare that you will offend someone for believing different than you.
People who know you see right through you, and you are only close to those who are the same, you seek clarity and understanding always, and in it's absence you lose interest. You are unable to be close to people who are not as transparent and clear as you are. For the people who are not close to you, you are almost impossible to understand, especially since you cannot be bothered to offer any explanation of who you are, you simply do not care."

She had my full attention as she paused.

"You have been through a traumatic relationship, and ever since you have not wanted anything to do with men. You may have had relationships since, but deep inside it is very hard for you to be with a man. You have very deep wounds that have only healed at the surface making everything look fine, but when anyone applies even little pressure on the skin covering the wound you want to scream.
After this relationship you became much more private and detached, and i would assume that at heart you have no faith in men and have no interest in having real faith again.
Don't worry, this is not a permanent state, it will pass, but not yet, it will still be a while"

I must have been very wide eyed while i looked at her, cause she smiled and said:
"Is any of this true?"

I nodded and said yes, the woman had won me over, i couldn't help it.
I told her that i had nightmares about that part of my life almost every week even though it was a long time ago and i never thought about those times when i was awake. I told her that i was now happy with someone else. I told her i have willed myself to not be that way. I told her i saw no reason why i should be that affected by something that has long since gone.
She nodded and gave no further explanation.

"You try very hard, but it takes time, this is not who you are, it will pass"

I thought about how much little words affected me now, being called over sensitive or insecure feels like digging into a raw wound and pouring salt in the hollow space, and i went back to that feeling of wanting to be alone forever in a very far away place.
She must have read the distraught look on my face, because she suddenly said "i have some good news though.."

I smiled, and looked at her eagerly "tell me.."

"You will have or are having one hell of a sex life!"

During the Night

I don't know why i get such bad nightmares. They are so disturbed as well, mutations of people into other bodily beings, with blood exploding and splashing all over, sometimes even with a perverted sexual twist that is anything but pleasurable, they are so graphic and grotesque, i often wake up wondering what i have done in my life to deserve those kinds of dreams..
After my best friend died in a car crash ten years ago, i spent two years suffering from recurring nightmares of graveyards and death, ranging anywhere from being lost in a cemetery with no way out at twilight battling against time to get out before it gets dark, to watching people i know lying bleeding from open wounds next to a dug out hole in a cemetery waiting for their death so they can be pushed into the slot.
For two years almost i dodged sleep, i slept sporadic hours during day time, and agonized over battling sleep during the night. After that the nightmares calmed down in nature, they went completely psychological rotating around an abusive relationship that was to form much of my character later on. The nightmares were justified even then, i was not leading a good life, i was unhappy with all that i was, i was going through the horrible early twenties where it seems one is known to be quite lost. It was justified to have nightmares, i could live with it because in a fucked up way i thought i deserved it.
I moved to France and life got better, my life style got healthier, my choices were mine and i grew up a bit. My nightmares recurred less frequently, due to the positive life change and regular exercise, but still, every few weeks i'd get a nerve wrecking dream, out of nowhere, flames, attacks, mutations, distortions, and death, always lots of death.
I thought that i must be detoxing from all the suppression i did as a child onwards till i became an independent entity, i decided to give it time and ignore it, and i've lived like that ever since. The thought that my subconscious holds material for these nightmares never stops scaring me though, it really terrifies me that i have thoughts buried somewhere that can be a constant feed to these never ending nightmares
This morning i woke up from yet another nightmare, blood, amputated distorted body parts, combined with disappointments in a parallel scenario. My dreams are always about people i know, and most disturbingly, people who are important to me.
In my frenzy of waking up i sent a message asking if he was ok, he was part of the dream, of course i shouldn't have cause it was 7am or something, and that is whacko mental behavior, but i was still in my frenzy, in the dark world where bad things happen for no reason.
When this happens and i wake up and he's next to me, i crawl up near, listen for a breath, put my ear against the rhythm and take comfort that everything is still the same and all that harm was just a dream, and the rhythm of the breathing eventually puts me back to sleep..

Can someone please, please tell me if this is still borderline mad or if i have always been insane?

I dream....

I dream of a little house on the beach that my mother loves, a little house to make her happy, i dream her simple dream comes true
I dream of another few years off, a little flat with my own kitchen, with my own sofa, with my own glass window with a view
I dream of a white sandy island, with crystal waters and little waterfalls flowing into fresh water pools
I dream that every night i go to bed everyone i love is warm
I dream of a little girl with curly hair, in a family with lots of love to give
I dream of years of freedom yet, with light weights on my shoulders, and open clear skies
I dream of making someones life, a little better than what it would've been, if i were not there
I dream that my losses come with acceptance, and that my paths part gently and only sweet memories stay behind
I dream that if i went away, i would be loved not missed, wanted not needed, wished for not longed for
I dream for those that came and went, that what i believe is true, that love still lives and breathes through both of you
I dream that all my dreams comes true...