Nightmares and Dreamscapes: The Mind Is a Scary Place, My Mind Anyway

I’ve had many recurring dreams over the years but one element that never fails to shake me up.

Tornadoes.

I love storms, well, unless driving in them. But that’s mostly because of other drivers. But storms are a beauty to watch. They are forces of nature that just make you feel alive. I love to watch lightning strike down and the bass of thunder come afterwards. The wind whip trees into a dancing frenzy. I feel a little “sing with all the colors of the wind, Disney Pocahontas-ish” when watching storms.

Even tornadoes. So why do they haunt my sleep?

It never fails. Sometimes it’s one on the horizon, huge and full of destruction. Black and threatening. Maybe it’s so many that I can’t count coming slowly towards me. Sometimes I’m in the middle, surrounded by the winds around me. And the inside of the storm is calm. Just a large eyeball floating over the land. Staring at me unblinking.

It didn’t have a mouth thank heavens. Oh god, please don’t let it have a mouth next time!!!!

Yes. Remember, this is MY mind so you know it’s going to be extra fracked up.

The tornado or nadoes never reach me. There is just an unbelievably large crushing feeling of doom. Of hopelessness. Of fear.

It’s funny. I have family members and friends that seem to believe that I fear nothing. Like I had a child at 16, joined the military and deployed twice all while saying “whoo-hoo this is fun!!!!”

I fear. A lot.

Answering phones, crowds, people’s ability to possibly be telepathic and read my mind, clowns, birds, little people, people in mascot costumes, bees, roaches, looking in the mirror when the light is off, a sound in a quiet house, my computer camera secretly taping me, public speaking, my face melting off, saying something extremely odd that makes them realize just how coo-koo for cocoa puffs I am, getting blown up in a porta potty while deployed, being alone. Oh yes. I fear the world around me.

But I looked at myself in a mirror long ago (with the light on of course) and decided to face all fears. That I wasn’t going to let fear rule my life. I wasn’t going to go out of my way to do crazy nonsense things, but I was not going to let fear stop me. So I’d sweat and shake and hyperventilate my way through the world. Getting that deep satisfaction afterwards that I survived. Never wanting to do it again. Knowing I would have to in order to stand by my promise to myself.

So, I believe the tornado dreams are two things. One is that they seem to come when a huge change is about to happen in my life. And two, they are the manifestation of my fear I refuse to show to the world.

A couple of bad dreams in order for the world to see that I’m a bad*** chickidee?

I can live with it. As long as the eyeball doesn’t come back. *shudder*

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First Semi-Argument, Hunger Games, and the Damsel in Distress Syndrome

Mmmm, bread. Save him for the bread!

 

Soooo, in the honeymoon phase of a new relationship, as you’re still getting to know a person you try not to make any missteps. You don’t want to argue or anything, even about something trivial. But it happens. Hey, it’s how you grow right?

So the Dude and I went to see Hunger Games: Catching Fire the weekend it came out. Both of us were pumped to see it, maybe me even more so since I not only watched the first filmed but all 3 books. And plus I love anything about dystopian futures. The movie was great, and stayed more true to the books than I thought it would. I was bursting full of ideas after we left out, but one stuck more than any other, and I offhandedly mentioned it.

ME: Hmmph, so Peeta is the Damsel in Distress.
DUDE: What? No he’s not.
ME: Well, yes, he is. Katniss is the hero.
DUDE: No, that doesn’t make sense. He’s just as strong, not weaker than her. He can survive on his own. He’s not in distress.
ME: Fine. Nevermind.
DUDE: No, explain why you think that.

See, I hate arguing, well… I hate arguing with my significant other. And it wasn’t arguing, just the Dude trying to understand my theory. But sometimes, without being able to write something down it’s really hard for me to get my ideas out. And I get frustrated. And I had one of those instances of “Oh no, don’t treat me like I’m stupid like those guys in the past!”

But after realising that the Dude wasn’t like guys in the past that just thought I was stupid, and was really trying to understand me, I was able to calm and get my words out.

So, why did I decide that Peeta in the Hunger Games series was a damsel in distress? Well, look at older action/adventure movies. Superman, Indiana Jones, Popeye. Who knows why those are the first ones that pop in my head. Just keep with me here. What they have in common is a hero. even if that hero is flawed in some way, they are the hero. You know they will somehow come out on top. Katniss is that hero. We are looking through the world in her eyes. And she is not weak. She comes into the story with strength. That’s how she is able to survive the Hunger Games. Basically consider her a born hero. As the story goes along she is not trapped in the silly girly thoughts of a love triangle, at least not in the books. The movies seem to play this up a bit. But instead, she is thinking of saving those she loves, not having time for romance. That is not her main concern. She is no Bella.

On the other hand, we have Peeta taking the role usually reserved for the female lead. He ends up having to be rescued many times by Katniss, all in all is NOT as strong as her, and is ruled more by his emotions. He loves her and moons over her, and compared to her is less violent. To look at it another way, he is the submissive to her dominant. He tries to find the peaceful route, the softer way of doing things. Not to say he isn’t masculine, but if we are looking at stereotypical ways a woman and man are supposed to act, well, he’s the woman, or damsel.

Especially throughout the second movie, you could really see that the roles are reversed from the normal hollywood movie when it comes to Hero and Damsel in Distress norms. Peeta has to be saved twice, from what I remember (can’t wait to re watch). Heck, in the first movie/book he was injured for most of it. And at the end of the second movie, what happens? He is trapped with the “villains”.

I think it’s why I enjoy the series so much. Katniss isn’t a fake action girl, waiting to be saved by a man so she can go all soft and gooey. No, she IS the person who will change everything, even at the expense of losing that chance at love. She is not ruled by her emotions, or some fairytale of how things are supposed to be. This is one of the very few lead female characters that is strong all the way through without falling into the romance angle and losing all edge. Even though I am not exactly like her (I’m a romantic in my own way), I seriously appreciate her character. And I do want more of them. Not knocking the Bella’s of the world (ugh, even though I barf at that series), but I want to see more women that aren’t being strong while waiting for the right man to come along and put them in the kitchen.

Anyway, after explaining the way I thought (while we sat in the parking lot waiting for the car to warm up), the Dude understood and agreed. Then security came over and told us to stop loitering, because apparently at one in the morning you can’t be up to any good just sitting in a car having a conversation. Pffft!
BTW, Peeta is on the TV Tropes page as a Distressed Dude: http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/DistressedDude

Somebody agrees with me.

Who Needs a Heart When a Heart Can Be… Ripped Out and Driven Over With Spikes While Singing the Macarena

So while visiting the family a month or so ago, everyone wanted to hear about the new guy. Of course I’m not really the type to go gushing about a guy except to close friends.  And some of my closest, well, I still haven’t discussed with them my Luke Wilson look-alike.  Not because I’m ashamed in any way. Dude is smart and hot and makes me giggle. But, I am a somewhat cautious person.

 

Especially when falling deeply and giving up those 3 special words. Ya know: I wuuuuubs you.

 

To me it’s funny that people were asking already. I mean, I know there’s love at first sight. I know some people have married after a couple of months whirlwind romance. Heck, I could have convinced myself when I was younger to just fall and let me land wherever.

 

But I’ve grown a little. And I don’t need any fresh scars. I try to learn from my mistakes.  So instead of just running with open arms into love, I’m trying to take it one day at a time. I’m not saying that I won’t let myself fall. It’s just that I won’t speed things up. I want to get to know this person I’m with inside and out. Build on that connection I felt when first meeting him. Not let our relationship be built on sex, but a combination of physical, mental, and emotional respect and honesty.

 

Those same people who seem perplexed that I’m not gushing in love are the same with many failed relationships and marriages. No offense to them, but I’m trying some different. I don’t want a whirlwind romance.  That’s the stuff of plays and novels. Romeo and Juliet frackin DIED for a so-called love at first sight.  No thank you, check please. I’ve had my meal at the restaurant of crazy.  How about I fall in lust first with his brain and personality. And then find comfort in the way he treats himself and me. The passion that’s brought up naturally between us.  Not hidden behind games or false faces. Not on anyone’s deadline.

 

I wrote all of that about a month ago. And then the other day I told him those words. And I got them said back to me.

 

I laugh at myself, but it came out naturally.

 

 

 

Random “Blackness” Testing… I Tend To Fail… May Need a Tutor

Older black male nurse: Have you seen the new Best Man Holiday this weekend?
Me: Uh, no. I went and saw the new Thor
Older black male nurse: Oh, you gotta see it! It’s so worth it.
Me: Um, I’ll probably watch it when it comes out on DVD or something. I like to see action movies when I go to the theater.
Old Black Male Nurse: You’ve GOT to see it. It’s so worth seeing in the movies.
Me: …

Exactly.

One thing that never fails to irk me is being told that I should like something because I’m black. When Obama first ran against Hillary Clinton, I should have been supportive of Obama because he was black. I should watch The Game, and Real Housewives of the Ghetto (I can’t remember the name) because I’m black. I should like Koolaid, and go to Red Lobster, own a pair of Apple Bottom jeans because I’m black. I should be able to swivel my neck and snap my fingers, just because I’m black.

I am black. Surpise!!! But I refuse to change what I like and enjoy. Although I’ll watch on TV and giggle along with a Madea movie, it is not something that I’d wait with baited breath for. In fact, there has to be NOTHING else to watch. Or I’m stuck at a family member’s house. I mean, hey, I grew up and watched all my “Black Card” movies: The Color Purple, Lean on Me, Roots, Coming to America, etc. But, that doesn’t mean I’m going to go and look for the latest black movie that EVERYONE must see and support. And seriously, it’s fine if you do. But don’t expect that just because we share a skin tone, I’m going to give a good gosh darn about the latest chocolate written and directed movie. Don’t look at me like I’m crazy when I say I don’t care for those. And before you say it, I’m just as frackin black as you. I’m just not a stereotype.

Broaden your frackin horizons.

Hopefully one day there will be more black written sci-fi and fantasy movies that make it to the big screen. And you know what, when I’m randomly tested on my “blackness” in a doctor’s office I can gush and exclaim:

Oh yeah, I saw that! It was awesome!

Or maybe I’ll have to say “That ish was hot! The bomb diggity.”

(Hmmm, that may be too old and lame.)

Randomly shouts YOLO and runs away.

You have My Unconditional Love… No Matter What Letter of the LGBT You Become

There’s a post I keep trying to write that I’ve flipped so many different ways and perspectives. But maybe it’s because it’s not my story. Maybe it’s because this story is still so fresh, so ongoing.

And maybe because I could never understand.

A person close to me came out to me as a pre-op transgender person.

It was something I had already assumed. Something that I just figured they would live in silence with. That maybe THEY hadn’t dealt with it yet. But no, I was definitely a couple of exits passed the finish ramp.

SHE had long ago felt that SHE was a HE. That ZE was trapped in a woman’s body. I can only imagine. I’ve had my own issues over the years with fighting to become MYSELF. But this, this is another level. Ze was afraid of telling me, for my bluntness confused them with thinking that it would turn into prejudice. But never, NEVER. I love this person, this family, blood of my blood whether they were gay, straight, yellow, purple, man or woman.

And so… that’s all I can say. I support. I’m proud that they are so strong in wanting to be who they are. I can’t understand at their level. But I can give my unconditional love.

Of course…. that is not me wearing that shirt. I’m chocolate. And I have boobs.

 

Okay, Were the Cats in My Dream Trying to Steal My Soul… or Give Me Sweet, Sweet Bestiality Loving? – Nightmares

I tend to have some fracked up dreams, but one last night woke me up and made it hard to go back to sleep… And it was my favorite animal, being all creepy.

 

Cats.

So I dream that I’m sitting on the floor, going through bags of beef jerky to find the perfect piece. But suddenly, there’s a cat in front of me gobbling (and then regurgitating) the jerky right in front of me. “Hey Hershey (my cat’s name), stop that!” I yell and try to waves my hands at the cat. Until it turns around and looks at me and I know it’s not my cat. No. This cat of HELL has complete inky black fur (Hershey is tortoise-shell) and has black demon eyes with no pupil. Then I realize that I’m now lying flat of my stomach with my arms spread out and two more of these demon cats are holding down each arm with one paw. They also have the depths of hell eyes and fur. And they just stare at me.

This is the light skinned version. Creepy muthatrucka.

 

I realize this is a dream, and that I need to fight to wake up or these demon cats are going to kill me in my sleep. Finally I do, short of breath like I’ve been underwater. I reach for my handy-dandy smart phone and start googling the SH*T out of some dream sites.

 

So http://www.dreammoods.com says this: To see a black cat in your dream indicates that you are experiencing some fear in using your psychic abilities and believing in your intuition. You may erroneously associate the black cat with evil, destruction, and bad luck. In particular, if the black cat is biting, clawing or attacking you, then the dream means that you must acknowledge what your intuition is trying to tell you. You can no longer ignore it. Do not be afraid to face the situation.

Uhhhh, okay, so I believe in my intuition and NEVER try to ignore it anymore. About what? What is my intuition telling me?! I’m not trying to ignore it, it’s just not clear. Grrr… Arggggggh

The next site was http://www.experienceproject.com/dream-dictionary/Cats-dreams which told me: To dream of a cat, denotes ill luck, if you do not succeed in killing it or driving it from your sight. If the cat attacks you, you will have enemies who will go to any extreme to blacken your reputation and to cause you loss of property. But if you succeed in banishing it, you will overcome great obstacles and rise in fortune and fame.

Well, frack me, I fought to wake up! You’re saying I should have stayed in the creepy cat dream being held down by three cats with torture and murder in their evil eyes, just so I could fight them? With what? The fracking beef jerky? Bark like a dog?!

 

And then this last one I read before I said frack it I’m going to read for a bit, and then try to get my last 2 hours of sleep (http://dreamhawk.com/dream-dictionary/cat/ ): Because a cat is often an easy source of physical contact and affection it can depict the need to be cared for and warm affection, even sexual love accompanied with intense warm feelings.

You may have felt a lot of affection from a cat, and so associate it with sensual, or even sexual pleasure. It can also represent your need to care for someone or be cared for, to have close physical contact.

Example: ‘I went to the fridge to get out some mincemeat to feed the cat. It came in. As it fed I had a strong urge to touch it, such strong feelings of love were pouring out of me. The animal looked up at my face as I wanted to kiss it. The lips had pink lipstick on. I kissed it, it’s paw came up around my arm, I could see the black claws. We were rolling around on the floor, it felt very sexual.’ Monica.

 

Um…WTFBBQ?

That’s it. I stopped a kitty gang bang in my dream. All is right with the world.

I am under this pile. Completely violated. *Sniffle*

My Phobia Of Dentists Could Rip Your Jaw off and Beat It With a Stick

They finally got me. I’d been avoiding going to the dentist. The military has it set up that avoiders like me can only avoid for so long. And so something pinged on the higher-ups radar and I had to make an appointment. Dental Exam and Cleaning. *Shudder*

THIS. IS. WORSE. THAN. CLOWNS!

Last night, before the appointment, I had trouble sleeping. My stomach was in knots and I kept having the poop butterflies like I do when I have to speak in front of people. I kept waking up every 15 minutes or so, trying to figure out how much time I had before the dreaded appointment. By the time I got up and left the house, I had to turn around because I’d forgotten my military ID. And my sanity. My hands were shaking. I could barely talk when I finally got to the front and checked in. My jaw (and already irritated gums) was aching from clenching my jaw all night and morning. And then… I finally sit down with the nurse.

“I got to tell you something before you start.”

“Oh? What’s that?”

“If you plan to even touch my mouth without knocking me out, you are going to have to tie me down.”

 

You see, I never liked the dentist before – who does? They are torture experts. Everything in their office is straight out of a horror movie, or a POW camp. But I used to be able to deal with it, until my last deployment.

 

See, I’d held onto my wisdom teeth for a while. The military usually likes to yank those bad boys out as soon as you join. But mine weren’t above the gums, or bothered me at all. Until a couple of years ago. And so, before deployment, I was in the doctor’s office. With an abscess in my gums but 2 wisdom teeth (and a tooth beside them) needed to be pulled right away. The doctor there said he didn’t have time to put me under because some blah-blah-bullspit about needing some months after surgery to check up on me. So he was going to just shoot me full of novacane… or lidocaine (one of those cane numbing medicines) and take out the teeth.

 

Have I mentioned that I have a super high tolerance for pain meds… and with already having a medical condition that creates abscesses throughout my body – I know that with an abscess you CANNOT numb the whole area. On top of that, my gums are usually so sensitive that they numb me up for regular cleanings.

 

He numbed me, and started. I stopped him. “Ah cun stew fweel evweyding.!” So he numbs some more. “Ah CUN STEWL FWEEL!!!” And he numbs some more. “OWWWWWWWW.” And he says

 

“You’ll just have to deal with it.”

 

MUTHATRUCKIN WHA—–

 

There is nothing in the pain I’ve felt in the past that could compare to that time in the dentist chair. Feeling EVERYTHING as he used his saw, drill, and whatever else he had to remove those teeth. The feeling of the tooth being cracked and scraped and ripped from my jaw, the sounds, the pressure, the pain as I fought to stay still as my whole body was lifted over and over as he struggled to pull out those teeth.

 

Tears ran freely down my face. I felt HELL, and hell was a dentist’s chair.

 

Imagine being able to feel that crap. All of it.

 

I tried to find a happy place. I tried to tell myself that anything hurt more: childbirth or something. That the pain was all in my head. All the while this bastard has not tried to have any finesse and treats me like a dead animal that can’t feel.

 

Can you understand why I would avoid the dental demon doctor? It took me about 2 weeks to recover from that. And now they have the other 2 wisdom teeth that need to be pulled. Today, just during my exam my pulse was over 120 (which apparently is not good. They took it a second time and it was 117. Better? Who the frack knows, I’m not a doctor).

Luckily, this is not the same military base of pain that was the one that tried to torture me. These people today LISTENED. They gave me MEDICINE. They gave me PAIN stuffs so that hopefully I can get this infection down before they start the cutting, and sawing, and demolishment on my mouth.

 

I swear though… if they don’t stop when I have pain and try something else, I will fully give over to a psychotic break.