Have you ever had one of those dreams that are so real you can feel them the next day? Like when someone does something to you in a dream and you feel mad at them even after you're awake? The other night, I dreamt that Jedd was having an affair with an older woman from his job. He was such an ass about it too. When I said she was old, he sneered, "She doesn't look old." Bleh, vomit. The worst part was that I was staying with him. It's really strange when you feel something very real in a dream that you've never felt in real life. In the dream I was afraid he would go be with her if I left him, he didn't really love me but I was staying with him anyway. I know there are those women but I'd really like to believe I'm not one of them. I woke from the dream feeling so defeated. It's strange, I would expect to carry the feelings of pain and anger and betrayal but what I felt was trampled over and weak. Which is why if he ever really cheated I would have to leave. We'd been joking about the dream all day yesterday. Then his best friend called and told him he had a dream in which Jedd told him he was having an affair with someone at work. Now, maybe I've been watching too much Medium, but that's just weird. I already have gigantic trust issues anyway. It's always in the back of my mind that one day I'll find out that Jedd isn't even remotely similar to the person I think he is. He is really some mysoginist, a womanizer whose life revolves around the lie he's created with me and our entire life together has been a game for him. Which really is crazy if you know Jedd! Except that he really does like to lie...and he has said that if I ever leave I have to take the kids...hmm...
No doubt she belongs to Jedd. This morning she sat down for breakfast... Her Mama: Here's your banana AND I got these yummy cinnamon rolls last night! (She eats the icing off the top, hands it back to me) Her: I want bologna. Not a bologna samwich, just bologna, just two bolognies.
This is it...the house. You know what I mean, you have yours...somewhere out there, that house that is supposed to be yours in that neighborhood you're supposed to live in. And now mine is for sale *sigh*
...and it's you, Lamictal, makin' me spin Okay, I know that was totally lame. I was on Lamictal (a mood stabilizer) for ten days. By the eighth day the side effects were unbearable. I thought that if I knew they would go away I could power through it but the psych said that he was concerned about the mood related side effects. So now I'm day 3 off of it and still dizzy, nauseous, irritable and weepy. At least I'm not seeing things anymore... One of the hardest things about being any kind of sick is when you have to rely on the people around you. You start to wonder where the breaking point will be for them...you wonder what they might be saying when you're not around. What if Jt gets tired of me...what if my friends are only being nice because they feel obligated. The hardest thing I've done in all of this was to tell the girls I'm really close to. I knew some of them would be amazing and supportive but in a group of ninish people, there are going to be those who don't really believe there's illness involved and you just need more faith. There has been a little of that but I was prepared for it. Mostly I was just tired of feeling like I was hiding something really big from the people I am closest with. You tell yourself over and over, "It's not me it's the illness" or in the case of this past weekend, "This is not me, this is the medicine" But what if it never gets better. What if they don't find the right medications. I thought that since I had a good diagnosis, it meant things would get better. I guess I was dreaming, thinking that I could just take a mood stabilizer instead of my usual SSRIs and yummy Klonipins and... problem solved. I failed to realize how very different these kinds of medications are. Sometimes it creeps me out and I want it out of my brain and of course I start to think that the illness itself isn't all that bad. It's rapid cycling and my depressions haven't lasted more than two days. Hypo-mania can be nice, I get to be super-mom for a week or so. The house is spotless, I don't need much sleep and I have the energy to spend lots of quality time with the offspring. Okay, so it seems nice but remember the first season of Desperate Housewives when Lynette was taking ADD meds? Yeah, that's why it's not so good.
We had the funeral for my uncle on Saturday. It was sad, it was really hard to see his kids and brothers and sisters...my dad, all grieving. I felt an overwhelming desire to talk to my uncle and did. I needed to tell him that everything is okay now...I've forgiven him and I love him. Until he died, he had to hold on to his excuses because he couldn't live with himself if he didn't. He can't hold on to those anymore and I know that he stood (or will stand) before God and saw his sins for what they were and that responsibility for his actions was laid on him. But I also know that those sins were then removed. It's such an amazing concept, those things are no longer a part of him, he is no longer a culmination of his actions, his goods and bads. Now he just gets to be Bob, the one God sees and loves. Which means that now he is just Uncle Bob. I feel closer to him now than I ever have in my life. Weird, huh? At the service I was grieving for my family but I had so much peace and joy about him and where he is and who he is now. I cannot describe to you the healing this has brought me. What's amazing is realizing that when Christ died it wasn't just a means for us to be saved...it was to bring us healing, it's encompassing. Bob being redeemed through Jesus Christ has brought me healing and I know that's what God intended. I have never in my life felt the way I have in the past couple months, maybe even just weeks. I feel like, for the first time, I actually know God. And I trust Him...that's the real kicker. It was only last fall that I thought I would NEVER really trust Him.
So, how was the funeral? I usually just tell people, "Well, I was hungover when I did nursery the next day..." which is true. The service itself was a real disappointment. My dad was supposed to sing the Keith Green version of The 23rd Psalm (download it, it's beautiful) which he also sang at his mother's funeral more than 20 years ago. He couldn't find the music for it so I was disappointed. He is a rich tenor, perfect for the song, and I don't hear him sing that often anymore. The other problem was the guy that officiated. He was one of Bob's ministers from Franklin Vineyard. He delivered the most canned funeral message, full of stories from his own life and very little about Bob. At one point, he even told a joke about his age and then looked around the room, "No one's laughing." That was part of the joke but I'm thinking, "IT'S A FUNERAL YOU DUMB FUCK!!" And that's it, in a nutshell, a lame service, but my uncle (mom's brother) did a great graveside talk when my dad couldn't do it at the last minute. And I got really drunk in my parents' backyard with my aunt's family and laughed so hard my face hurt.