Dear Diary,

My sleep mojo is officially gone. It IS the thing I miss the most! More than Smitten, more than money, possibly even more than M.

Crap. Crap!

2:30 am seems to be The Crying Time. Okay, do what you have to do, I say to myself. But I want to sleep. I finished my book, I tried to watch a movie online (of a book I just finished- but hell if I can actually find a movie that loads well etc....) and by the time I fell asleep I knew it was dawn because I could hear birds chirping.

Oh the dreams! But before I can tell them I have to explain who I was dreaming about.

When I first moved out of my parents' house, I moved in with my friends Shana and Bruce, who I had gone to school with. What I didn't realize, was that Shana and Bruce were like younger replicas of my parents. There was a lot of anger in that house. They had two kids, which Shana was wonderful with, but her husband didn't really give her what she wanted emotionally, so she tried to get that from me. It seemed like she was always pissed at me, but I never KNEW what she really wanted, because she never ASKED. There were a lot of assumptions, it seemed, about how I was supposed to be, what I was supposed to say and how I was supposed to show up for her, as well as what I was supposed to do around the house- but none of it was clear to me, so I was always "making mistakes" and Shana would punish me by not talking to me at all! So I never knew what I did! I got along with Bruce somewhat better, but both of them had a tendency to be sarcastic, to make fun of me, and my friends, so it ended up being very hurtful.

Shana stopped talking to me, and I know Bruce would have stayed in touch but Shana was so against it. For a long time I continued to send gifts for the children, on their birthdays and holidays, because I had been so close to them. But that became too painful. I had to use delivery confirmation to make sure my packages got there, because there would be no acknowledgement from their parents that they received their gifts. And eventually I just didn't know the children anymore- they were getting older, and I didn't know what they liked- was the little boy still into Star Wars, or had he moved on to being into skateboarding now? Did the little girl like Barbies or mermaids or fairies or what? I just didn't know, and I felt terrible everytime I sent a package anyway, because it was a reminder of how brutally rejected I'd been by the family.

I was dreaming I was in their house, somehow, and Shana wouldn't talk to me, somehow I climbed through a window or a hole of some sort and down a ladder... or was it up a ladder? I'm not sure. But ended up in a room with a woman with long white hair... and she was friendly to me. She had me stand in the middle of an empty bed frame, wrapped a cloth around my shoulders, my waist, and pulled me back and forth, and blew ashes on me. I realized, somewhat lucidly, that she was a medicine woman, and she was healing me! So I willingly went back into the dream. For awhile...

Shana still wouldn't talk to me- much like real life, she was giving me the silent treatment. I was moving around the house, and looking at pictures of her daughter, which were true to life...

Then things were shifted little bit, and it seemed they had two older sons and a little one. I can't remember perfectly, but the middle son's name was Emil (the name actually stood for something else, like "Every Man In Love"). And they had a very young child named Artie (pronounced R-T). Shana was saying how Bruce and the older boys were going to China, but she would be taking Artie only for 5 days or so.

I don't know how long I was dreaming this dream, but it seemed like a long time, because it went on still... there was some kind of celebration (actually a function that Irinia in real life is organizing, but it showed up in the dream). They set up musical instruments in front of the house- which now that I saw it, was more like a brick building in New York City than anything else... and Bruce had painted some things on the front. The instruments were for a modern band, and some people began to play music really loud, and suddenly there was this guy Darren, who was friends with Bruce forever and they used to be in a band together, and in really life Darren became a hopeless heroin addict, but anyway here he was in my dream. And I was dancing around, and pretty much realized everyone in the dream was naked, including myself, but it felt kind of good, because I think I was thinner, and possibly wearing a really pretty chain around my waist.

So I was dancing and Darren came right up against me, and told me I was hot, and tried to touch my breasts- saying something to the effect that I hadn't really aged at all. I slapped him away, and stalked away from him, him complaining that he was all turned on and I responded over my shoulder, "Your boner is not my problem!"

I went into another room, where a bunch of equally sparingly dressed people were gathered around a picnic table. They were getting ready to do some kind of ceremony, maybe some kind of hands-on healing. Shana was there, in the midst of it... someone handed me a postcard, which was also like a ticket, but showed a blue pool, almost like an outdoor spa, and all the stations of the ceremony. So I thought I might stay, even though there was this feeling like I was supposed to be somewhere. I noticed my fingernails, which were long and painted blue, except for the thumb on the left hand and the middle finger on the right- they were left natural. There were some other things that I can't remember, and then I woke up.

Huh. Pretty intense. And weird. Ramel is a mutual friend of all of us, and last time I talked to him (which was last fall) he was encouraging me to make up with Shana and Bruce. But I don't know. They haven't done anything to reach out to me, and I am doubtful. I have found them on FB, but not requested to be a friend or anything. They can't find me.

Still. Gives me something interesting to think about today.

I wanted to write it all down before I ate something! Protein! Yum!

By the way, Smitten sent me an email yesterday, with no text but just photographs. It is now approaching the end of the month, and it doesn't seem like he's coming here at all. I am disappointed, but also letting go, because I know he could call me more than he does, if he really cared. I do hope he comes, so he can help me health-wise, and, I don't know, if he shows up in a GOOD way, not a lame one, maybe something will happen.

Who knows.

Love,
Duck

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