Miss M woke me up at 5:30 with a tummy ache (she’s fine now). We sat in the bathroom for about 40 minutes til she felt better. A Popsicle seemed to do the trick and I’m blessedly grateful there was no throw up. She may also miss her dad–she asked to see him today.
Then I went back to sleep and had a dream that I met one of my favorite actors. We joked about how stupid social media is and I apologized for harassing him on it and then he gave me a really, really long hug. Like he just knew I needed someone to hold me. And I tried to pull away from the hug because I didn’t want it to be weird but he wouldn’t let me pull away. He was wearing a blue and black striped V-neck shirt. I could hear his heart and feel his arms around me. At some point it wasn’t about who he was or who I was, it was just somebody hugging me and it felt really good. In my dream it made me cry, I woke up crying, and I’m crying right now thinking of it.
My brain is weird. But mostly I’m going to focus on staying off the Internet the rest of today and get Miss M ready for 2nd grade tomorrow while I just try to pull my life together for 24 hours and attempt to figure out what to do next, or if there’s anything I even need to do next. Maybe I’m already doing what I’m supposed to do. Which feels bizarre–I feel angry and judge-y and broken. And indignant, like there ought to be karmic justice for people who do bad things, who hurt other people, who are self-centered pricks. Yet there isn’t. They just keep on keeping on. Therein lies the problem with social media–I write about what hurts. Others choose to slap a happy, I’m doing GREAT face on it. This is the part I wish I had the superpower to fully see everything about someone’s past, present, future. Scientists could study it and call it the Dickens gene.
Yet I think if I had that power, I’d just feel compassion and understanding. And today I don’t WANT to feel compassion or understanding. Today I’m still trying to figure out a way to mentally or at least emotionally erase or at least compartmentalize into a locked, fire-proof, steel box all of 2015 and just go back to where I was and try again, but subconsciously knowing all I’ve learned from 2015 but without the feels.
I have no idea what I’d call that superpower.