I’ve had some strange dreams lately. The scariest started with me out shopping. I went from a grocery store where I had some cherry tomatoes from the previous store. I was in a quandary: I wanted the tomatoes to be cold but I didn’t want to put them down. No. I don’t know about the significance of that one. Perhaps I just feel a bit here and there at the moment.
A bit more shopping later I found myself in front of a place selling TVs. There was a little boy sacrificing himself by walking into a room that’s about to be set on fire. I stood there, unable to move while watching him burn to death while he said “Beware of fire. Fire is dangerous.” It was very disturbing! Needless to say I broke down and had a good boo the next day in the office. There’s only so much a girl can take, you know.
More recently, accompanying the usual search for a toilet in my dreams, I was at work but my office was in an airplane and I was working for superheroes. Again, I don’t know where that came from but it was very intense as I ran/floated around the office!
Last weekend was a bank holiday weekend in England and I took the opportunity of an extra weekend day to have my period. I spent most of the weekend rocking to and fro on the sofa and creaking to and from the toilet. I took my usual tablets and they worked reasonably well! I’m in shock about that, I can tell you!! I am surmising that the period wasn’t too bad because I’m still in shock over Dad’s death – heartache overtaking physical pain.
This week at work wasn’t so traumatic. Of course I cried in the office but that’s to be expected. I’m trying not to put too much pressure on myself right now. I’m getting by. I think it’s what Dad would want.
I promise I’ll stop going on about Dad and moaning. As you know, moaning really isn’t in my nature but I doubt I’ll ever feel the same after this. It’s as if there was a safety net beneath me that I completely took for granted. I knew it wouldn’t be there forever but didn’t appreciate it enough. Now it’s gone. Now he’s gone. I’ll never be able to ask those questions that kids only think of after a parent dies. I’ll never be able to ask him to forgive me never having children. I’ll never be able to tell him I appreciated him taking me fishing when I was a kid.
On a more positive note, Helios and I had an argument. I think it was our first. As always, arguments start with miscommunications. When Dad first died, I told Helios that I didn’t want to be treated any differently. So a few days later when Helios was still cracking jokes, I was feeling more delicate and didn’t appreciate it. I marched out of the flat in a fit of two-year-old tantrum. I went somewhere quiet and wondered why he was treating me like nothing had happened and I realised: he needed an update on how I was feeling and what I need.
I walked back to the flat and cried as I told him that I thought I was in shock when I told him that I wanted to be treated the same as always. Now I’m happy to put on a façade that I’m coping at work, but at home I needed to be able to be vulnerable so that I am better able to be strong in public. We had a fantastic long hug and I cried on his shoulder. Since then he’s been as supportive as I could ever want. Yes Helios, I’m still feeling delicate but, thanks to your help I’m stronger today than I was yesterday.