Torture

I had another dream about Andy last night. It’s like, when I think I’m okay with things, I think I’m managing to move on in stride, then comes another dream, out of the blue and shaking me to my core. I woke up around 3:30 this morning and prayed to God to stop these dreams (apparently this is supposed to work) but when I woke up again at 6:30, I was still having the same dream. It was like my mind wouldn’t focus anywhere else. I want so desperately for this torture to stop, so as I still laid in bed this morning I googled “I can’t stop dreaming about my ex”. According to some lady named Wendy, my dreams are all relative to what is going on in my life currently. So, I mulled that over, and I came up with a few reasons that I might be having these dreams.

1) When Andy and I stopped talking late last year, I did my best to put him behind me, but deep down I always thought that he’d come back once things had aired out, like he always did. Our pattern dictated that he would wait a couple of months, and then text me out of the blue pretending nothing had happened and no time had passed. Except, this time he didn’t. It’s hard to realize that I was wrong, that I’m not going to spend my life with the person I thought I would. Maybe I never really moved on because I was waiting for him to come back.

2) My self-confidence is pretty low these days. Finding out that Andy had actually moved on was like a knife in the chest, but it’s not the first time someone has left me in the dust. It’s not even the second time. I’ve been cheated on or quickly replaced more times than I can count. I’ve been lied to, I don’t even know how many times. I don’t trust my own judgment anymore, and I feel like I’m unlovable.

3) There’s nobody left. For a long while after our breakup, The Italian and I continued to talk and be friends, but that has stopped in recent months. With all potential mates now officially removed from the equation, there’s no one to give me that little bit of romantic attention that gets me through each day without feeling lonely.

4) I am afraid that by becoming a mother, I am condemning myself to a life of singledom. I’ve never wavered on my decision to adopt, but I also haven’t prepared myself emotionally for the possibility that I will not have a long-term romantic partner to someday share my life with. That would mean losing hope, and I’m not sure I’m ready to go there, yet.

I’m not entirely sure what I’m supposed to do with this information, except perhaps be conscious of it. I just hope the dreams stop soon, because I have the potential to be in a really good place right now.

FACES

If you’ve been following along on my adoption journey, please take the time to click to the new FACES blog and check out my first contributing post.

FACES for Alberta is a new organization just getting off the ground. Created by some new friends of mine, they’re in the process of developing a website and reaching out to adoptive parents and those who support them.

My Rock, My Safe Haven, My Soul Mate

It’s been five years today since I lost the most influential person in my life. The best parts of who I am have come from her, and she is everything I strive to become. Not a single day passes when I don’t see her face, hear her laugh, feel the warmth of her hugs or think how unfair it is that she was taken so early from my life. Even though it hurts to long for her, I can only be grateful because for 23 years she was my rock and my safe haven.

My grandmother meant the world to me. She had always wanted a daughter of her own, but when her third child was still-born, she lost that dream and I think she re-found it in me. I wasn’t the first female grandchild to be born, but I was geographically the closest and I think that allowed us to become the closest emotionally, as well. Growing up, I think I spent more time with my grandparents than I did with my own parents. I used to love hanging out with them. We would go for drives, get ice cream, go shopping, or just sit around at home cooking or watching scary movies. I still to this day don’t like scary movies but grandma did, and she made me feel safe. She would sit there knitting away and giggling and gaping at the television while I huddled in a blanket on the couch, simply happy to be in her presence.

I didn’t see Gram as often after my parents divorced and we moved away. I remember though, every time I came home I would ring the doorbell and walk in to greet grandma, she would turn the corner from the kitchen, see that it was me, and *sqeal*. I’m not exaggerating and anyone who knew her could attest to this. She would actually let out this high pitched throaty squeal and as it turned into a giggle she would grab me up and squeeze me until I couldn’t breathe any longer. I lived for those moments. I would give anything to have them back, I think they’re what I miss the most. I’ve never felt as important or special to anyone in my life as I did to her. She truly loved me more than words.

People talk a lot about “soul mates” in the context of romantic love, but I don’t think it has to be that way. I think grandma was my soul mate; in fact, I firmly believe it. Even though Gram hasn’t been physically in my life for five years now, my faith allows me to believe that she is no further away than she ever was. Sometimes I forget and get angry that she’s gone, but then I remember that she never truly feels far away if I would only pay attention.

I won’t be sad tomorrow, when the anniversary hits. Those dates never make me sad, it’s the unexpected things that do. Instead, tomorrow will  be a nervous and exciting day, because I will participate in the first of five adoption training seminars that I will complete this month. I’m sure grandma will be there next to me, cheering me on as I go! I can always count on her for that.

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I made this video a couple of years ago; It’s of Grandma with me as a baby. You probably don’t care to see it, but it makes me smile to hear her laugh. 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0zStrT62P8c