Easter and a bad dream

Saturday night I dreamed I woke up Sunday morning at 10:30!!!!!  It felt so real!!!  That meant I missed playing handbells in the 8:30 service and the 9:45 service!!  And in my dream I was just frantic and I figured I better show up for the 11:00 or I'm in trouble, so I decided I could make it to the 11:00 if I went to church in my pajamas (a big t-shirt and my husband's pajama pants!) and not even brush my teeth, comb my hair, or eat anything!  And in my dream my heart was pounding and I was so scared I wouldn't make it!  So I put my shoes on and went outside, and someone had stolen my car!!!  In my dream I was so inwardly angry at my kids because they're always leaving the doors unlocked and my husband's always yelling at me that someone's going to steal my car.  My son had left for work already (in my dream) and I can't drive the van and or my husband's stick-shift car, and I was so frustrated and panicked because if I woke my husband up to drive me to church, I knew he wouldn't do it in his underwear and he'd have to get dressed and probably go to the bathroom and brush his teeth, and I wouldn't make it in time.  

When I went to put my head in my hands to cry, my hands had turned into knives like Edward Scissorhands and it was too late for me to stop moving my head towards them, and I had a huge scream in my throat because I knew I was going to get all cut up, and just then I woke up!!  I was so confused too, because I was sitting in bed in the dark, whereas one second ago I was outside in the sunshine wondering where the heck my car went to.  I don't know if I made any noise when I was dreaming but my husband asked me if I was okay, and I yelled "NO!  I had a bad dream!!"  And then I said forget this, I'm getting up.  It was 4 a.m. but I didn't care.

Anyway, here is the video for How Great Thou Art and I'm the second one from the end (in pink).  We did a pretty decent job.  I knew God would like it regardless.  What's funny is, when I don't have the sheet music in front of me watching the video, I can't tell too much where we messed up.

It's Friday but Sunday is coming

Some other blogger used that for a headline and it turned out not to be what I was expecting.  Here's what I was expecting (Sunday from Tree63):

This Easter should be pretty good.  I'm back in the handbell choir since the songs aren't too hard.  I'm playing different bells this time and they aren't as heavy.  And the bell player I get to stand next to is super nice.  I'm excited.  We're going to do some fanfare song and then play "How Great Thou Art."  We're playing at all three services, so my husband said he'd sneak into the 3rd one and videotape it.  Then after we're done playing at the beginning of that service, we can leave.  So I might post up the video later.

The online structured recovery group is going a little better.  I finished my anger letters (dropped more F-bombs than Ozzy Osbourne, I might add) and then I've been working on the forgiveness step (just as pertains to what happened, NOT anything else that people have done that I'm hurt over).  Someone had said that the opposite of forgiveness isn't anger, it's resentment.  For some reason, for me, that distinction really helps me be able to stomach forgiving someone.  I can let go of resentment.

Happy Heavenly Birthday, Carleigh

Thinking about you today.

It shouldn't matter

This morning when I was volunteering, the director asked me if he could ask a personal question.  He said a lot of the other volunteers have been asking him what's wrong with me physically.  He said he felt like they thought he didn't care because he would just say he didn't know.  So I tried explaining that I was born like this and tried to detail what exactly was "wrong" on my body, and then I stopped and kind of laughed, saying, "Just tell them I got hit by a train."  Then on the way home I got really upset and crying in my car about this.

For starters, they are gossiping about me behind my back!  "A lot" of the other volunteers have been asking?!?  Another thing, they're not in elementary school where you whisper and stare at someone who looks different than you -- these people are adults and should know better!  Another thing, the biggest thing, these people are supposedly Christians working for a Christian nonprofit company.  It shouldn't matter WHAT I look like or HOW I walk!  It shouldn't matter!  Asking what's "wrong" with me makes about as much sense as asking Oprah why she's black.  God made me like this.

I've been reading this book by Brennan Manning called Abba's Child.  There was a real eye-opening line in there about prejudice.  "Prejudice is a defense mechanism against loving."  Wow, think about that.  When you shrink back from someone because they're tall, loud, Chinese, heavy, smart, deformed, blonde, etc., you're giving yourself an excuse not to love them.

Six Word Saturday (3/6/10)

I feel so much rage inside

Sorry.

I'm still reflecting on my life (my whole life, not just the part where Claudia comes in) and I'm just so angry.  I can see how people over and over wanted me to do things and I did them.  Was I NOT born with a mouth?  Right now my counselor is having me read a book called "Abba's Child" by Brennan Manning and he talks about this imposter inside yourself, where you basically deny your true self in order to keep the peace (being a COWARD, his word) and/or to maintain acceptance by others.  

What has it gotten me?  NADA.  What has it gotten others?  EVERYTHING.

My sister hated me from the time I was 12 till I was 20.  My parents let MY SISTER have a say about Claudia.  What does she say?  "Debbie can't take care of herself, let alone a baby."  When I was 20, miraculously after my sister graduated from travel agent school and needed a place to stay, all of a sudden I wasn't so disgusting to her and she lived with me.  Oh, and she needed a car.  Our parents didn't want her to ruin their credit if they co-signed, so guess who they got to co-sign my sister's brand new 1987 Renault Alliance?  I never even got to drive it because everyone thought I was too mentally and physically challenged to drive.

My first husband - same theme, different story.

My second husband - same theme, different story.

My third husband - yep, same theme, different story, and continuing.

I don't want them all to hate me or be mad at me so I'm chicken and give in.

Two things make me write about this today.  First, my kids threw a holy fit Thursday night to get me to take them to Literacy Night.  I've been telling them all week that I didn't want to go.  My husband couldn't take them because he was teaching.  I don't like being out in public because I look like a monster and people stare.  We had to park quite a ways away from the school since the parking lot was full, and my son was screaming about not making it in time to get a hot dog the whole time I'm parking.  I could see there was a line of people waiting for hot dogs so I don't know why he was so upset.

Secondly, my sister sent me a little Easter package yesterday of marshmallow peeps, bunnies, malted milk eggs and two fanny packs she got from a convention.  I was surprised, happy, shared the candy with my kids and little boy I babysit for, liked the lavender pack, but inside I want to just rip something to shreds.  Why does she get to treat me so badly and I hate her and then she is nice to me and I don't know how to feel.  Well, of course she likes me .. I've done everything she's ever wanted.

I feel like I'm just alive for other people - my husband, my kids, my parents.  My self, my true self, doesn't really exist.  I would leave but I never make more than $100 a week and that's not enough to live on.  Ironically, I made a ton of money when I was married the first two times and it was pretty easy to finally say "enough" but now I'm stuck here. 

Six Word Saturday (2/27/10)

 

If I could turn back time ...

I've been in kind of a reflective mood lately.  I joined a structured recovery group on the internet at the beginning of this month, and I'm learning a lot from it but not necessarily healing.  It's not a Christian program so I have to drag Jesus with me myself for the hard parts.

I wish I had a 24-year-old.  

Six Word Saturday (2/13/10)

 

Anyone want a beagle puppy - cheap?

 

I'm just kidding but, man, this dog is getting more annoying by the day.  We don't want her getting into stuff so we keep her locked in the kitchen with a baby gate.  It was cute that she figured out how to open the baby gate.  So we started locking it.  Then she figured out how to lunge at the gate and knock it over.  So Chris drilled wood on both sides of the door frame and duct taped the gate to the wood.  She chewed through all the duct tape.  So now he has baling twine (a strong type of wire) holding the gate to the wood and now that's at least holding her in.  One of these days she will grow big enough to jump over the gate, I'm sure.

My husband is funny sometimes because Savannah will do something wrong and he'll scold her and say, "How would you like me to take your collar off and let you run away?"  And I chime in, "She's microchipped."  "Dang!"

She's doing fairly good about housebreaking (going outside to potty), but for a while we'd wake up every morning to a puddle in the kitchen.  Then the other two dogs decided they shouldn't have to go outside anymore either so I started finding wet spots on the carpet.  Come ON!

We do let Savannah sleep with us all night.  I sleep on my left side, and she curls up all the way under the blankets in the curve of my knees so she keeps me warm.  My other little dog Hershey sleeps with me in my arms and his little body generates some serious heat!  So by the time I wake up in the morning I'm actually pretty hot.

So far I have taught Savannah how to sit and how to shake hands.  I need to teach her how to "come here" and "stay" and to not jump on people.

Happy 6 Word Saturday.  If you want to join in the fun, link to Show My Face.