… What I see is someone that is terrified. And generally successful. In my own way. I wrote a friend from childhood a letter. She appreciated it, from what she told me. And I’m grateful. While I’m a person with the use of words, to an exhausting extent… It’s not because I just woke up and had an itch. Everything in my mental programming has had a dark layer coating reality. Everything feels, confusing.

I thought about it at great lengths last night. Specifically because I remembered some good things. Some things that I miss.

The original strawberry shortcake doll. With the scented hat, clothing. The freedom that I had, to some extent. I could choose where I could go, within certain parameters. I was given the opportunity to visit places I likely wouldn’t have otherwise. I was given my social world. You were born in. And if you leave that social world? You’re largely cut off. Some people still engage with those that left. Even still accept you and love you.  There are many many sad stories of people, like me, that left. How it created that emotional vacuum. It’s like the death of the social fabric.  Turning away from the church/faith is at the least, disparaging many generation of Laestadianism. Everything you want is there, just don’t leave and you’ll be fine. Except if “we” disapprove. You can be “with us”, it’ll just be a “lonely” with us. Just be grateful and don’t question. Otherwise, you’ll be ..

An unbeliever….

:;Gasp::

Not….that!

I’ll be cursed to the fire and brimstone of hell. I will know nothing of my eternal heavenly home. I will not have morally deserved it. I was and am….

AN UNBELIEVER!!!

…oh goodness no.

You would never think to look at me. I wake up, annoyed. Just like most people who have to work for a living and pray for death not to come before or shortly after retirement. I hope that I will measure myself more for my current state of being than my past. That I can give myself a break. Finally. After all these years.

Before bed last night, I told Eric about something I would have loved to have done. I would love to visit Lakeview Elementary School in Negaunee, Michigan again. (My hometown). I had so many happy memories there. My mom worked there. I got to help and spend time with kids that were handicapped. I got to see my mom’s coworker, Sandy, as a really nice lady. I loved most of my teachers. Kindergarten, 2nd, 4-5th were the best. I remember getting a calendar of the meals we’d be served for each day of that month.  I remember looking out the windows at school and seeing Teal Lake. I remember my fifth grade teacher died shortly after I got to middle school, for the year. I felt horrible that he died. I missed him and his spirit.

Well, I did go on a bit of a rant there. Anyway, I wanted to walk through the halls. See the lunchroom, bathrooms, the gym, the parks where we had recess. As I could almost smell the associated good smells and past visual memories… How you come into the building in the morning. My favorite treats my mom put in my lunch bag. How much I still hate Bologna. Yuck! (Oscar Meyer should be ashamed)

I did it again

Shit ..

Do better. I told Eric, at the end of that concept, not to. First of all, why would a grown up want to wander through a school potentially full of school aged children? Yikes! Secondly, nothing would be as good as my memory. The building will have had improvements over the years. Technology has changed so much! The teachers will have changed, as have the students, and everything else that once reflected a “simpler” time.

I went to sleep last, begrudgingly, because I didn’t want to go to sleep too early on my first night off for the weekend. When I slept, I walked through the halls, just as I remember them. The art room, the little garden area, the playgrounds, the hallways, the toys, the people.

There was a full on rem sleep hard on happening. It was the kindest dream I’ve ever had. It was as if, my wish was granted.