15.3.06

Ribbons Undone

I feel:: sick
What song is on a loop in my head right now:: Tori Amos~Witness

So, I went to bed at around 12:30 with a headache bordering on migraine. I took one of dad's wonderful headache pills ( I freakin' love those things.) and went straight to bed. I had no trouble falling asleep. I must have been completely asleep a few minutes after my head hit the pillow. I woke up at 4:30am with the same headache I went to bed with only now it's worse and I can't get to those heavenly pills because dad is asleep and he keeps them in his bathroom and his bathroom is connected to his bedroom. 800mg of Ibuprofen, some Cheddar Chex Mix and one glass of Vanilla Soy Milk later I'm sitting here writing this all out waiting for the Ibuprofen to kick in so my head will quit feeling like it's being squeezed in a vice by a very large and very muscular someone. And I was sleeping so well.

Tori is singing to me in her sweet and painful way. The power of orange knickers under my petticoat.

For 3 days last week, I had very vivid dreams of an old friend of mine. We met in elementary school and hated each other. He was always bugging me and I was always telling on him. So, consequently, he got to miss a lot of recesses. In my early twenties, we dated for awhile-my first serious emotional attatchment. So, back to the dreams...I kept dreaming that he was sick, or in trouble or that something was terribly wrong. I worried and wrung hands for three days wondering whether or not I should attempt to contact him. Monday, I did, but I had to call his parent's house. I can only imagine what his parents thought when they heard some strange woman's voice on their answering maching saying that she was looking for their son because she wanted to make sure he was ok. I left my phone number, though, so they wouldn't think I was some kind of random freak. (Well, I am kind of freaky, but not like that. You know what I mean.) I honestly didn't know whether or not I would hear back from him, but on that same afternoon he called and instead of "Hey it's....." or "Hi, it's.....", he said, "Guess who?" I was all, "Oh my God! Can I call you back in like 5 minutes?" (Keep in mind we haven't talked to or seen each other in like 10 years.) He sounded dubious, but said that would be ok. It so happened that at that moment, I was talking to a realtor. On the spur of the moment, (Cuz you guys know I'm a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants-girl. Right? I know what you're thinking. Shut up.) I saw the most interesting house and I just had to call the realtor to have a look at it. I had a therapy appt. 45 mins. from then, but I really, really wanted a gander at this house. At the moment he called, I was standing on the front lawn of said house, having already looked it over thoroughly, and was just saying my good-byes to the nice realtor lady.

So, when I got in my car and called him back, I was a bundle of nerves. I mean, how do say to someone, "So, unrelated to anything else in my life, I've been having these terrible dreams about you. Ummm....are you ok?" Especially to someone that you haven't seen for a decade. He took it pretty well, though. I guess he remembered that I'm just odd. (He told me later on that night when we were talking on the phone that I was the most sane and grounded person he'd ever met and that if I really was crazy, then the rest of humanity was "fucking insane". That got a good snort of laughter from me.) The funny thing is that my dreams were right. There is something terribly wrong in his life. I won't go into it here, because it's his story to tell, but suffice it to say the emotional pain fairy has been working overtime.

It's weird to be talking to him again, but not in a bad way. It just feels to me like there has been no time elapsed. It's like we just picked up where we left off. (When we last spoke, I was living in Maumelle with Tanya as my roomate and Erik as my on-and-off-again bed partner/roomate, which made me feel really crazy. Won't do to go into that now, though) Crazy, isn't it? I guess that's just the way it is with someone you've known the majority of your life?

My head fucking hurts.

The good news is that my Psychiatrist upped my Prozac dosage to 80mgs per day. When she asked me if I was anxious about it, I said enthusiastically, "No! Maybe now I can get some laundry done." She laughed. Hopefully, I can get my sleep schedule back to it's somewhat normative state. I hate being an insomniac. At the same time, though, I hate it when I sleep too much because I feel like I'm missing out on my life.

I'm going to try to go back to sleep now, even though I have to get up in a few hours so I can drive an hour and half to bum-fuck Fordyce just to get my car serviced. I hate that drive. Come to think of it, right now, I hate most everything don't I?

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