Nope. No Desire to Build My Dream House

I have reoccurring dreams of this house, and by reoccurring I mean I have been dreaming of this place since I was maybe in my late teens?  I am pretty sure the house doesn’t exist, and thank fuck for that!

My ‘dream house’ and I use the term ironically, is a place filled with a sense of latent menace, potential danger and lurking evil… think the basement from Silence of the Lambs or the training camp/armoury in the more contemporary TV show, The Following.  The walls are solid brick or cement, once white but now filthy with age and neglect.  The rooms range from huge with makeshift fires in the corner that people can huddle around to tiny narrow hallways with lowered ceilings that make me duck as I walk along.  The whole place is rather dark and somewhat dank, but I can see clearly thanks to old bunker lights high on the walls in a variety of amber and deep red colours colours… which reminds me of untold hours spent in the B&W darkrooms at Uni many years ago.  The most disquieting aspect of the house is its inhabitants.  There are a multitude of hairy unwashed miscreants, who appear to be hiding around corners and loitering around leeringly down the long and dreary, windowless hallways.

dream analysis therapy

The people are often congregating furtively in corners, engaged in unknown but definitely nefarious deeds… I can feel their ill intentions washing over me when I come across them and it takes considerable willpower not to scream and run.  They seem to be constantly scheming, but will stop and stare at me when I come into a room.  They watch me as I inch past them warily with my back against a wall, until I leave ‘their’ space, and then they resume their evil confabulations once I have departed.  Moving through the house is always quite disconcerting, because even though I know the place is populated with plenty of these undesirable individuals, they inevitably and invariably scare the crap out of me when I walk around the corner and discover a group of them congregating somewhere.

Occasionally, I can hear cries of anguish or distress in the echoing hallways… no, it’s definitely not a ‘dream house’ in the traditional sense of the term.

I could try to map the place out, I’ve been there so often in my dreams that I can visualise the rooms and hallways and how they interconnect, but I doubt the effort would result in anything remotely practical, as I know the house doubles back on itself and rooms connect to other rooms in such a way that defies architecture and physics – the place is a veritable maze and I can never find my way out, I’m stuck there until I wake up feeling slightly alarmed and insecure.  I’m not sure what causes these dreams… but when I find myself wandering these hallways I always feel alone, unprotected and extremely nervous that something bad is going to happen.  I’ve had these dreams many times and again last night… but have never bothered to try and find out what they might mean.

So I decided to look up a bit of dream interpretation on the Internet – reliable sources that they are.  And this is what the Internets in its infinite wisdom spat out:

A house represents your life. The rooms are aspects of your life. Being or living in a foreign or unfamiliar house means you’re in an unfamiliar part of your life. It’s not dangerous but it can be scary, as new things often are. Something wrong about the house means something in your life isn’t working.

Small rooms may mean you’re feeling confined or limited. Having a lot of rooms could be a lot of choices or just confusion in your life. Hallways are transitions, such as when you’re deciding something or in between parts of your life. The more winding they are, the more trouble you are having transitioning or accepting changes in your life.

Not having windows also would be very confining, very stifling. Getting lost means being confused, unsure where to go with your life.

Going into the basement represents your subconscious, your deeper thoughts and feelings. Finding a new door would be you’ve expanded your life somehow and a wall with a secret room would be thoughts, ideas, memories that you’ve hidden even from yourself. These dreams really are a collection of very easy to understand symbols!

It’s good that you go in the secret room, you’re exploring those hidden thoughts, and that does lead to other levels, but each level is harder to understand, maybe you’re reaching a more basic you without the superficial, which is a good thing but can be scary.

Things being under construction and dirt floors simply represent that you’re still under construction, you’re still figuring out who you are and so on.  Having an old feeling probably comes from these feelings being rooted in the past. Lack of lighting would mean you’re having trouble understanding, things are not “illuminated” for you.

Feeling you’re being watched or followed could deal with others you feel are observing you, or a sense of your own behaviours as others see them.

You’re figuring out what’s wrong with the house, so that’s introspection, looking at your life and how you can improve it. Being stuck and can’t get out would simply mean you feel stuck, unable to progress, unable to break beyond limits, unable to change your life.

Well that all sounds like pretty typical psychobabbly really.  Most of it readily applies back to dealing with chronic pain and/or the complete inertia my life seems to have taken on since the last car accident.  Damn, thought maybe there’d be something new or useful there.

Oh, well… maybe one of these days there will be unicorns and rainbows in my dreams, but to be honest, if there ever was, I’d probably be checking the labels on my drugs quick smart!

Just one pain free day.

Ok, I try really fucking hard not to complain about back pain in this stupid blog, else I would be boring even me to death every single day.  But today I am OVER it.  It’s barely 10am and I am utterly and completely OVER IT!  If I didn’t have to go out to get the Small Child later today, I’d be drugged up to the eyeballs right now and just write the entire day off.

I went to sleep with my usual amount of Valium, at a usual hour and have woken up feeling so much worse than when I turned in.  My back is not just causing me pain, it is making breathing difficult as the pain is radiating around to my chest and rib cage.  The same pain feels like it is radiating up my spine and has taken residence in the top of my head, which feels very much like I have been repeatedly smacked on the back of the head with a basketball since I woke up.  My eyes are hurting for crying out loud!  Literally aching in their sockets with acute spikes in eye pain when looking in any direction other than straight ahead.  It hurts to blink and I’m not even hung over!

I’ve obviously been clenching my jaw overnight because my teeth are aching and the muscles around my jaw and face are painful and tense… which has the disconcerting side effect of making my ears feel like they are bleeding .  This in itself, is a sensation which is not at all pleasant after a few hours of it.  I’ve got pain in my lower back and in my hips, in my forearms and my wrists!  There’s a weird wtf-something-or-other going on in my right foot that is making me hobble!  My shoulder blades and collar bones are complaining if I have the audacity to move my arms!  And my neck. Holy snappin’ duck shit!  My neck seems to have forgotten that it’s primary function is to hold my head up and move it from left to right, as it is currently only doing so under extreme duress and with incredibly painful complaint!  I fucking hate my body with it’s ‘snap, crackle and pop’ every time I try to move.  It’s sending me round the bend.  Who can fucking live like this?  Constant pain and, for reasons beyond my understanding, today (just a random ‘any’ day, when I’ve not done anything to cause it) it has decided to ramp up and really test me.

And none of this is conducive to finishing my Latin assignment!

pain free day. chronic pain enough

 

Lesson learned: Do not compare yourself to others!

Bathers – check.
Towel – check.
Kickboard – check.
Fins – check.
Goggles – check.
Swim pass – check.
Car keys – check.
Small child + accoutrements – check!

Right – all ready to go.   Jump in the car.  Drive to the pool.  Find a park.  Swipe in at the counter.  Go find an empty lane.  Dump my gear.  Disrobe outer garments.  Jump in pool.

Sigh… feel exhausted already!  Strike out at a slow and stead pace bobbing along up and down, up and down.  Fight the obsessive personality traits thing and try hard not to count the strokes because that’s just damn depressing.  Do first two laps and feeling okay.  Do another two laps and still feeling pretty good.  Maybe this getting stronger plan is going to pay off dividends eventually.

Then, look over at the sleek, lithe, aquatic-looking creature in the lane beside me and come to a sad realisation… We look about the same age but I have to acknowledge that he is doing about four or five graceful and effortless laps to every one of my slow and laborious bobbing up and down laps!  And I think to myself, ‘Mutter, mutter… got a fricken long way to go…  and doesn’t even look like he’s out of breath!’

Then I see something out of the corner of my eye that goes a hell of a looong way to making me feel less inadequate and so entirely hopeless.  Is that?  Are those?  Is that what I think it is?  Why, yes… that tattoo on his chest is a depiction of the internationally recognisable Olympic rings logo.  And then I notice the green and gold Aussie swimming cap and the speedos with “AUS” stamped firmly across the butt.  And then I notice he’s not alone and is swimming with several other equally superb aquadynamic specimens, some of whom are also likewise bedecked in Aussie swimming caps and “AUS” speedos… oh, and is that another Olympic rings logo tattoo?  Yep.

olympic tattoo chest

Well, suddenly I’m feeling a lot better about my lack of grace and prowess as I bob up and down up and down the lane barely managing to keep my head above water.  I shouldn’t compare myself to these small god-like creatures who’ve been training in the pool for years… ‘Come and talk to me guys when you’ve been in pain for the last 20 years and can’t walk properly!’

By the time I finish my allotted laps for the afternoon, I am in a lot of pain and absolutely stuffed… and I’m well aware that I’ve done but a fraction of the distance, with a fraction of the technical proficiency of my fellow swimmers – by now they have all gotten out of the pool, changed poolside and are standing around in a huddle listening intently to a weatherworn looking gent who, given he was earlier barking incomprehensible numbers at them as they turned at the end of their laps, I assume must be their coach.

It is then that I notice that they’re all huddled around exactly where I left my towel and my clothes.  🙁  Now, I’m not one usually one for false modesty, and I’m not usually one known for being hideously self conscious nor do I usually get all wrapped up in negative thoughts about my body image.  Thanks to four nasty car accidents and PCOS (which resulted in infertility, insulin resistance and multiple miscarriages)… My body and I have had, what I would characterise as an uneasy relationship, for many years.  The body I have is nothing like that which I should prefer it to be.  And I have often felt it has stymied me at ever turn, forever rising in revolt against me time and time again… In fact I consider my body to be somewhat of a traitor!  It never lets me do what I want, it never turns the pain down to a dull roar, it never works properly at all!  But all the same, you only get one, and this one is the one that I am stuck with, and my physical limitations have forced me to accept and recognise years ago that it’s physical appearance just is what it is.  I’ve always been far more concerned with it’s complete lack of willingness to co-operate with me on the pain and the fertility thing that how it looks!  So for the most part, meh, I accept the neat figure of my youth is long gone and take solace in being told I have ‘an awesome rack’.  What are you going to do? *shrug*

BUT that said, there was no way in hell I was going to get out of that damn pool in my granny togs with their bust support and walk into the middle of that teeming pile of tanned, sleek, capable, healthy, muscular bodies!  Nope.  No way, no how.  Just not gonna happen!  So I did a couple more very slow laps and thought, they must be leaving soon.  A couple more laps… argh starting to really feel serious acute pain in my shoulder girldle and am clenching my teeth here.   And just as I reluctantly decide with a decidedly sinking feeling, that I’m going to have to walk in among that collection of super fit, fine athletic Olympic specimens to fetch my towel and get ready to go home… suddenly they disperse and leave.

Phew.  Disaster averted.  I wouldn’t have to display my blindingly white thighs and quasi-tuckshop arms to the Beautiful People after all.  🙂   And almost immediately, I felt rather sheepish and more than little bit silly at being relieved!

Happiness is nothing more than good health and bad memory.

Time to try and change tack here.  I’ve been down, extremely down.  It happens to the best of us, and it happens to chronic pain sufferers and people diagnosed with chronic major depressive disorders, all the fucking time.  With the big ticket items (like good health, a pain free and drug free life, and more children) being well and truly out of reach on the ‘too high shelf’ I think it’s time to start trying to focus on the little things.

So I’m going to try and make a list of things that make me happy and then I’m going to try and start spending more time focusing of The Good Stuff(tm) no matter trivial, how silly, how meaningless or how unimportant they might seem… just feeling the need to hang on to, and acknowledge the little things.

THINGS THAT MAKE ME HAPPY

cuddles with my son
walking in heavy rain getting drenched
loud music that makes you want to dance
rolling around on soft carpet
cheese and wine shared with friends
big hugs at the end of a long day
finding a truly eloquent turn of phrase
listening to Straddie birds outside my house
laughing so hard you end up crying
having a clean kitchen with clear empty surfaces
being the little spoon
having someone brush my hair
a mug of port on a cold night
sliding into clean sheets on my bed
having my feet tickled
canoodling on the couch to watch a movie
sharing Fruit Tingles with the Not So Small Child
bubble wrap, ’nuff said
passionate debates about world issues over dinner
getting my nails done so I feel like a girly-girl
finishing a job, any job, and doing it well
crunching sweet corn off the cob
watching otters mingle and play
staring into campfires
ticking things off my many ‘to do’ lists
warm sun on my back in cold weather
non-window enveloped snail mail
feeling safe and comfortable in my home
watching the sunrise somewhere new
guacamole any time, anywhere
tickets for anything – looking forward to stuff
wrapping my hands around a hot drink
green tree frogs
reading books I loved as a child
the smell of the mock oranges at night
looking through A’s baby photos (sad but wonderful)

be as happy as you want. things that make you happy

Happiness is when what you think, what you say, and what you do are in harmony.
Mahatma Gandhi