Wednesday
Late this morning, nine o'clock and later because of going back to sleep after being up from about two till about three. Today gets the coveted A Best Morning award.
Up for black and dark earlier in predawn dark, must have been cloudy along with chilly: from the porch could not see Moon and Venus. Breakfast, the rest of that lox with crackers, and one slice of "maple bread" that really tastes like maple, one of my favorite flavors. Now well after nine, contemplating whether to write this.
The hurrication that outwardly seems calm and peaceful is bringing on anxiety dreams. Different formats, situations, scenarios. In one, I find myself squeezed down in a tiny space between bed and wall, peeling thin layers of metal off the storm-damaged wall, then needing to get up, trapped, unable to move, legs under the bed that is too heavy to move, struggling to get up and out but the bed holding me against the wall. It makes no sense except spilling out the anxiety of this post hurricane world that, awake, my mind holds in check. There are others, about one a night, situation varies, but nonetheless.
I am wondering if my conscious effort to withdraw from my attachments to all the things in 7H that loved ones have given me over the years, if that conscious effort is backfiring at night when the conscious relaxes and the gates swing open.
Others are deterring me, but this ongoing shock of loss, both of things and of control, is such that I think I really do not want to go back. Much as I've always loved the sea, trees, forests and the woods, beginning from playing in the thick forest of huge old trees that was behind our house when I was a child, what I really want now is a trailer, a small mobile home, in a pasture covered with wildflowers, and no trees for miles around!!
Up for black and dark earlier in predawn dark, must have been cloudy along with chilly: from the porch could not see Moon and Venus. Breakfast, the rest of that lox with crackers, and one slice of "maple bread" that really tastes like maple, one of my favorite flavors. Now well after nine, contemplating whether to write this.
The hurrication that outwardly seems calm and peaceful is bringing on anxiety dreams. Different formats, situations, scenarios. In one, I find myself squeezed down in a tiny space between bed and wall, peeling thin layers of metal off the storm-damaged wall, then needing to get up, trapped, unable to move, legs under the bed that is too heavy to move, struggling to get up and out but the bed holding me against the wall. It makes no sense except spilling out the anxiety of this post hurricane world that, awake, my mind holds in check. There are others, about one a night, situation varies, but nonetheless.
I am wondering if my conscious effort to withdraw from my attachments to all the things in 7H that loved ones have given me over the years, if that conscious effort is backfiring at night when the conscious relaxes and the gates swing open.
Others are deterring me, but this ongoing shock of loss, both of things and of control, is such that I think I really do not want to go back. Much as I've always loved the sea, trees, forests and the woods, beginning from playing in the thick forest of huge old trees that was behind our house when I was a child, what I really want now is a trailer, a small mobile home, in a pasture covered with wildflowers, and no trees for miles around!!