Today is one of those days you know you’ll regret as a mother. A day when you need a nap but instead stay up searching the Internet for “fire-breathing dragon dream symbology.” Isn’t that a word?
Anyway, I did dream about such a beast. He was flying over my house and actually caught the house on fire.
After reading certain interpretations, all of which could be completely false, I think I am in need of either getting my anger in check or am out of balance in my role as mother. Hhhmmm..these sounds vaguely true of me. Boy, does Jung understand me, or what?
The first week of the year ends with great angst and an overly stressed mind and body. Not to mention, five days in a row of migraine headaches. Gee, what a way to begin anew, by being reminded that your old shit is still there and doesn’t just fly in and out on command, like some imaginary mythical creature. By the way, I have solid proof the headaches are in no way myth.
I take a deep breath as I write this, and I look at myself from a bird’s eye view. In need of repair…..the private part of myself. The bookworm. The one who loves nature walks by herself. The one who does dreamy things like paint bottles or refinish a cabinet. The one who writes poetry. The one who wears lipstick for her husband.
She is alive and kicking but working part-time again and spending almost no time alone, have left her on life support. The emergency trucks are coming up around the bend.