Dreaming

I dream of the day of no longer having dreams. Every night I have bad dreams–nightmares even at times–of my children and family. The dreams can be very sad or anxious,  or any number and combination of feelings. The last I saw my doctor he prescribed 3mg of Prazosin every night thinking it would be good for my dreams. It was–until that point. The new dose made the dreams so much worse!! It was like regressing in treatment. PTSD in my case is already complex and can be difficult. I wish my children and family would be able to understand what I truly go through, the torture my mind instills in me. I would give anything to hold my children again! It kills me that I haven’t seen them in years and they don’t even know I exist. I won’t babysit the children of friends for fear of the emotions and memories of my own. I wish they knew. I wish my children would know that their mom still loves them and imagines life with them again. I don’t know if it will ever happen. I can hope. I pray. I love you Kerry and Patrick. <3

God is with us

You wouldn’t believe the night we women at the homeless shelter had last night, and how it went from almost like a fun slumber party to ending with 911 being called when a severely emotional young woman in the group suffered a seizure after sharing very personal, painful memories about her life. Everyone gathered round to pray and I have honestly never felt more spiritual energy from praying as I did last night! It was powerful! Then this morning I received the following in my email. Its just amazing…

One day, when I was a freshman in high school,
I saw a kid from my class was walking home from school.

His name was Kyle.

It looked like he was carrying all of his books.

I thought to myself, ‘Why would anyone bring home all his books on a Friday?’

‘He must really be a nerd.’

I had quite a weekend planned (parties and a football game with my friends tomorrow afternoon), so I shrugged my shoulders and went on.

As I was walking, I saw a bunch of kids running toward him.

They ran at him, knocking all his books out of his arms and tripping him so he landed in the dirt.

His glasses went flying, and I saw them land in the grass about ten feet from him…

He looked up and I saw this terrible sadness in his eyes.

My heart went out to him. So, I jogged over to him as he crawled around looking for his glasses, and I saw a tear in his eye.

As I handed him his glasses, I said, ‘Those guys are jerks.’

They really should get lives…

‘He looked at me and said, ‘Hey thanks!’

There was a big smile on his face.

It was one of those smiles that showed real gratitude.

I helped him pick up his books, and asked him where he lived.

As it turned out, he lived near me, so I asked him why I had never seen him before…

He said he had gone to private school before now.

I would have never hung out with a private school kid before.

We talked all the way home, and I carried some of his books.

He turned out to be a pretty cool kid.

I asked him if he wanted to play a little football
with my friends.

He said yes.

We hung out all weekend and the more I got to know Kyle, the more I liked him, and my  friends thought the same of him.

Monday morning came, and there was Kyle with the huge stack of books again.

I stopped him and said, ‘Boy, you are gonna really build some serious muscles with this pile of books everyday!’

He just laughed and handed me half the books.

Over the next four years, Kyle and I became best friends…

When we were seniors we began to think about college.

Kyle decided on  Georgetown  and I was going to Duke.

I knew that we would always be friends, that the miles would never   be a problem.

He was going to be a doctor and I was going for business on a football scholarship.

Kyle was valedictorian of our class.

I teased him all the time about being a nerd.

He had to prepare a speech for graduation.

I was so glad it wasn’t me having to get up there and speak .

Graduation day, I saw Kyle.

He looked great.

He was one of those guys that really found himself during high school.

He filled out and actually looked good in glasses.

He had more dates than I had and all the girls loved him.

Boy, sometimes I was jealous!

Today was one of those days.

I could see that he was nervous about his speech.

So, I smacked him on the back and said, ‘Hey, big guy, you’ll be great!’

He looked at me with one of those looks (the really grateful one) and smiled.

‘Thanks,’ he said.

As he started his speech, he cleared his throat, and began…

‘Graduation is a time to thank those who helped you make it through those tough years…

Your parents, your teachers, your siblings, maybe a coach…but mostly your friends…..

I am here to tell all of you that being a friend to someone is the best gift you can give them.

‘I am going to tell you a story.’

I just looked at my friend with disbelief as he told of the  first day we met.

He had planned to kill himself over the weekend.

He talked of how he had cleaned out his locker so his Mom wouldn’t have to do it later and he was carrying his stuff home.

He looked hard at me and gave me a little smile.

‘Thankfully, I was saved.’

‘My friend saved me from doing the unspeakable…’

I heard the gasp go through the crowd as this handsome, popular boy told us all about his weakest moment.

I saw his Mom and Dad looking at me and smiling that same grateful smile.

Not until that moment did I realize it’s depth.

Never underestimate the power of your actions..

With one small gesture you can change a person’s life.

For better or for worse….

God puts us all in each others lives to impact one another in some way.

Look for God in others.

No pain, no gain.

Trying to find motivation for writing this. Right now, oddly enough, it is pain distraction. I’m having some bad renal-related pain on the right side. (It was on the left side in back this morning, but not nearly as bad.) Finally just popped a good, strong pain pill and logged on to WordPress.

I think that pain is what motivates me to writing in my blog the most–whether it be physical pain or emotional pain. There are a lot of times when I would do it more often, in immediate reaction to something, but I don’t have a laptop or netbook computer to capture those moments. So then I text a tweet to my Twitter account from my cell phone instead. Sometimes if I am in a place where I can write privately and have abundant paper with me I will write my thoughts to transcribe later.

Life is like what seems to attract me to blogging: no pain, no gain. It takes some level of effort to succeed and reach goals. When I blog, I gain from readers, and from within my self. In life, I gain by doing things that will lead to taking me out of homelessness. I am trying. And I am doing. I am taking steps to helping myself accomplish that goal. I am trying to make more notes to help me remember things. I am getting mental health care, including counseling and psych medication. I am working with my caseworker regarding psych issues and future housing possibilities. I know that everything is working out. Finally. I am on the right track.

My secret

There is a secret side to me. I don’t know how to explain it. But being homeless probably only makes the problem worse and easier. It’s nothing shameful. It’s just, I am afraid to admit it, I guess. Sometimes I am ok with talking about it. But right now, when this issue is going on, it becomes hard. I become afraid of myself and what I may do. For insane reasons I start thinking that doing something good and healthy should be avoided. Its like an old best friend, there when I need her. Right now I feel like I need “her”. I want or wish it would be ok. But I know the truth. It’s not. I have medical training. I know. Which makes it even harder on me. I want so bad to go back like I used to be.

God will provide :)

First, I had to go to the pharmacy to pick up prescriptions. The bus driver recognized that I am homeless and let me ride for free!! I only paid 25-cents for the transfer so I could get back.

Then I get back.

I hadn’t eaten yet today. Someone had bought me a Mountain Dew last night which I saved for this morning and drank. That’s all I’ve had so far. I decided to use money I was saving for the train to the food pantry to buy food instead and thought I could try and get a ride from someone to there next week. I decided on a small microwave pizza–only $1 of the $2 I went in with. (I’ll let it thaw and eat it, LOL.) Well, walking through the parking lot someone I saw in the store walked up to me and gave me a Jewel gift card! With that and going to the church tomorrow for breakfast and lunch, I’ll make it through the weekend just fine for food!

Funny how stuff like this always happens when I decide to “splurge” and eat. I eat, and more food comes my way so I don’t have to go without after.

I admit, a small part of me thought about not eating anything at all today and just going without for the whole day. I have history of an eating disorder, and now that the shelters are closed food is a bit more scarce. Because of my health issues, its not as easy for me to get around all the time to get food, nor do I often have money. Well, I ignored that old part of me and decided to get food like I had planned. A person with history of bad habits like mine and its like I’m being rewarded for eating. Somebody is watching over me.

A scary, concrete bed

The shelters are closed for the “season” and won’t reopen until October. They think it is motivating for us. Who are they kidding?! This only causes more stress which in turn creates and accentuates problems making it even harder to overcome homelessness.

Last year I had so many problems with men following me and also watching me in my sleep. I heard a sound in my sleep a time or two and woke to discover someone I knew–another homeless person–going off to hide.

I have PTSD–Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.

I got so PARANOID!!! Every day someone was following me, trying to ask me out, refusing to take “NO!” and “Go away!” or “Leave me alone!” for an answer. I started to get violent thoughts when men approached me. I began to find it hard to interpret the shadows at night from the stress. I constantly turned to look behind me when I walked. I would get up from where I lay at night to look and see if anyone was watching. Then I’d see another shadow and try to figure out what–or who–it was. I was afraid to fall asleep because someone might come. And he might try to….

I finally had to take a “vacation” in another town where there are no homeless. I stayed there for a month and, basically, vacationed. I had no resistance to doing nothing, sitting outside in the sunshine, trying to the best of my ability, to relax. Trying to make sense of the shadows at night. Even during the day.

Eventually things lessened. It was just over a month later and I felt ready, yet scared, to come back. It was freaky. And exciting, like a homecoming. I was very unsure. I didn’t know if it would all happen again. What would happen?

I won’t be able to sleep tonight or for a while. This will be a big adjustment. I am afraid that other homeless (or perhaps even others) may follow me, or look for me, like they did before. I don’t want to be seen. I don’t know where to hide. I wish I had some place to go.