It’s a Fire…These Dreams Have Passed Me By

It’s been a little over three weeks now. The night of celebrating the greatest accomplishment my employers probably ever hoped to achieve also marked one of the greatest tragedies the company will ever face, if not the greatest tragedy. Nearly three million boxes of cookies delivered this year – more than any other company in the entire country. And Laura was there to join in the festivities. She was up on stage, with her photo taken and all, which was unusual for her. A few hours later, she was dead.

Laura was known by many people in our industry to be a well-liked and familiar, reliable person. They knew when they called our company that she either knew the answer to a question, or would figure it out. She was the person many people turned to when in doubt. She deserved that credit, because she was a dedicated and important person in the moving industry.

The most striking thing that sticks with me about her death, however, is the dream I had the night she passed away. After describing the dream to my mother, she told me not to read so much into it – I think my dreams disturb my mom because they hit too close to home. My mom does not like to face reality.

Let me first preface the following by saying that my coworker regularly took her lunch break, almost like clockwork, at 2 PM, every single day. She would stay later if possible, and had to be reminded if at 2:15 she remained, to be getting on with her lunch. She liked taking the break as late as possible so when she returned, the day was almost over. That was her thing.

The dream I had the night she passed away was a direct frustration caused by her leaving us too early. I was out in the warehouse, sweeping at my office manager’s direction, which is not the norm in real life, when Laura went to go out the side door to take her lunch. In my dream, I felt angry because she was leaving to go to lunch at 1:20 and we were closing early for some reason, at 3:00. I thought, why does she need to leave when we are about to close?

The next morning, I went to work, thinking nothing of the dream, and discovered at work that she had died in the night, approximately at the same time I had been dreaming about her “leaving early.” Her father left a message on my voicemail, not knowing it was my mailbox, around 2:40 AM, to report that the police had come to their house to confirm her passing.

It seriously disturbed me that I psychically linked into her passing in my dreamscape. The only people I have told, a spare few, have disregarded me – as usual. No acknowledgement that I recognized her demise in my dream. Of course, I didn’t dream of flames, and she died in a fire in her apartment.

But there was something else. We had a previous fire in our warehouse back in December, with severe damage. Less than a month earlier, I dreamt of coming into work and there being carpet cleaners and the office being closed because of damage to the floors. Only a few weeks later in real life, I walked in and there was damage to the floors – not due to flooding, but the sprinkler systems from the fire.

I don’t see these two dreams and incidents coordinating as a coincidence. These are not the first dreams I have experienced that have been linked to future events. But few believe me. Maybe they don’t want to because it is too disturbing. My mom told me not to pay attention because it might make me read into my dreams too much. However, I don’t read into them unless something else flags my attention that correlates with reality.

Don’t tell me not to believe in my own dreams. I know what they mean more than anyone. It’s just that sometimes, or most times, I don’t see the truth and the accompaniment of events until it has already occurred. Also, don’t tell me to play the lottery. It doesn’t work that way.


Another MC loses life tonight.

I keep telling the people in my life off, everyone except Steve. That hasn’t happened…recently, or yet again. I dreamt last night that I told him to shut the front door, figuratively. That would be the second time I would have said that to him, had it really happened this time. In reality, it only happened once, two years ago, while Nick was still alive.  I think that was what led to my most recent homeless scenario.

The most difficult part of my life, I think, is trying to find a balance between being real with people and trying to accommodate their needs as well. Is that just a woman’s burden? I don’t know the answer to that; yet, it does seem to be the norm, at least in my experience. This is passed along by my mother, and perhaps, hers as well.

I never knew my grandmother that well. She seemed like kind of a jerk because she was much harsher than my grandpa (this is on my mother’s side). However, as I’ve progressed in life, I’ve noticed many resemblances between Jane and myself. We are both politically inclined, and interested in the library. We are strict and perhaps unfashionable, but we stick to our core values. We love fiercely and maybe act a bit too harshly when overwhelmed. Yet, the most important quality we share is that we care for the people in our lives very deeply. That’s what matters most.

Grandpa Jack, when you go, I will miss you so much. I know it’s not much longer, now. I’m okay with that because I feel lucky that you have lived as long as you have. We are all so fortunate to have had Tracy in our lives to help you after Grandma Jane left; having her there kept you with us for much longer than I ever thought you would be around after she died. I am so glad for that. I love you, and I will cry when you go. I hope I can see you once more, but if not, I’m okay with that, because I know I’ll always be your Heddo. Love you always,


Group learning is not for everyone

As a person who has taken multiple classes involving group projects, as well as a person who struggles with social anxiety issues, I know my limits. Returning to school to finish my legal assistant degree this semester was a bigger challenge than I had anticipated. Perhaps if it hadn’t been coupled with a new job, which has presented its own difficulties, it would have been a little easier to manage.

My daily triumphs are small, yet tremendous. I have a child I am trying to raise with no support (aside from my parents, right now), and another whom I have little contact with (mostly my own fault on that one). I am working as an intern, writing as a contributor for a blog. I had another writing internship back in December, but I decided two internships, plus a job and 10 credit hours of school seemed a little overwhelming so I gave one up. The reason I take all of these things on is because of my ambition. The reason I cannot handle them all is my mental instability.

Right now, I am in the depths of the first episode I have had since I began my final semester. My bipolar mood cycles always begin to build when I am working really hard toward something. I can feel myself getting more stressed as time goes on; but instead of dealing with it, I ignore it and hope it goes away like shadows when the sun sets. What happens though – almost inevitably – is the shadows resurface, and usually with a vengeance.

It began about four weeks past the start of the semester, which coincided with the start of my job. Obviously, I was aware the new transition of the two positions would be a trigger. Yet somehow, no matter how much I mentally prepare myself for something, it never compensates for the actual events that are to come, no matter how mundane. Traffic, for example, or waiting in line at the coffee shop. Things I am typically grateful for the right to access, such as a job, a car, or even something as innocuous as coffee, can cause irritation if I fail to see past my mood swing at the moment.

This week, we returned to class from spring break. I, however, did not make it into class yesterday because I injured my back while coughing and sitting in a chair doing homework. Prior to that, I hurt my back while sitting at a computer at work. Ironically, part of why I wanted a desk job was so I wouldn’t injure myself! This comes after years of waitressing, which is physically exhausting over time.

Tonight, I made it to class, but it seemed just as much of a failure because I didn’t stay to complete the assignment. I want to say I couldn’t have stayed, but I could have. I chose not to stay because I felt overwhelmed. Sometimes, one needs to choose one’s health over one’s (educational) wealth.

Before class began, a peer in my group said, “I’m not interested in politics…because I am moving to France”; that put a bad taste in my mouth. How can I be learning about the legal system, about law, with a person who thinks moving to another country means the next American presidential elect is not important? The truth is, sweetie, France is part of the world, and anything the United States does affects the world. It’s called global warming, not American warming. It is this type of ignorance which I simply cannot disregard. It is sad and selfish. This is a person who I am supposed to be working with, in a group, calling my teammate? As for the other group in our class, that’s a horse of a different color.


Let me backtrack. This class is very small; I believe there are eleven of us altogether. I came back to school after almost two years to finish this degree, so things are slightly different now. All of the students know each other from before, which was not that big of a deal until the week before spring break.

One of the younger students and I had a disagreement about whether she was too young to know who Siegfried and Roy are. My argument was that it wasn’t that long ago; she said it was before her time. I said I guess it wasn’t relevant to her at the time, whatever age she was. Fine, moving on…until I am standing right behind her and her group – there are only two groups – when I hear her make a remark to her group about how she wouldn’t want to ask “that new girl” for anything, i.e., a book they needed.

Okay, take a breath. First, of all, I am not new. I went to school here before you even graduated high school, girly. Second…I called her out for talking about me to everyone and it became very uncomfortable. Ever since then, including tonight, the group has edged me out of the way anytime I am working in a place they want to go to find their own work, even if I was there first. Only one person in the opposite group has remained cordial with me, K. Taylor. Despite the French defector’s attitude, my group is quite amicable. However, that does not change my position on group learning.

I understand the premise behind teamwork, and I especially understand why it is necessary for this particular class. Our professor needs to ensure we are capable of research with access only to law books, I get that. My issue is with the structure of the group projects. Because there is such a small class size, we are divided into only two groups. In my previous class (the prerequisite) we had the same structure, but it was not as competitive. For some godforsaken reason, this class feels like a race every time we work in groups, which, for me, is not conducive to learning. I struggle with racing thoughts enough without encouragement. Competition is distracting and delays my concentration on the assignment at hand.

I recognize that the nature of law is generally adversarial, but in practice, the idea is that one (hopefully) doesn’t get bullied out of the way when trying to do research in the library for the case she is working on. I admit, some of it is my own difficulty with groups in general, but it is more than this. Some people thrive in a group setting because they are social. Others like groups because they get to lead and prove themselves to their peers and superiors.  Then there are those who just go along with what everyone else is doing because they are lazy, don’t care, or don’t know very much. Finally, there are those who would rather work alone.

I fit into the latter category because the frustration of trying to get through each day is enough to make one want to snap without the aggravation of feeling bullied by one’s classmates. I will make it through this semester, and I will graduate. If I must endure the difficulties posed by participating in these assignments, then it will still be worth it because I will have earned my degree. However, I can only hope that in the future, alternate assignments will be available for students who are not as capable of participating in group projects, so that people like myself will not have to struggle as I have.

Here it comes . . .

well, it’s just my nineteenth nervous breakdown.

Work. Yes, it stinks for everyone. There is always one person who seems to make life unbearable. Here it is, my fourth week and the dream job I was doting on in my last post turns out to be less dreamlike than I had initially hoped for. It’s also the third week of classes and I already have an exam in Women in European History. I have legal classes four nights a week. I also write for Author’s Nest as a contributor and have been trying to squeeze in time with my daughter. So, of course, I’m beginning to feel slightly overwhelmed.

I was keen on the fact that this semester would be hard. It’s the last one, and I graduate. Awesome, great, excellent, but I still have to do the work. It’s good, but there are moments when it is not so good. I think a big portion of this has to do with the difficult personalities I am encountering in the workplace. Being blamed for doing something wrong when I haven’t even been trained how to do it once is a large part of the problem I am seeing here. There is also a large imbalance of power in the workplace which creates tension. I personally have no power, so it’s not an issue with me or what I am doing.


The real obstacle for me is how I react to it. If I know this person is antagonistic, then I will essentially win if I do not react, and only act obedient and helpful. Any attempt to reason with this person will not be successful because the behavior is a deep-rooted issue that comes from within, not so much from outside stimuli. Although I know all of this in my head, it still makes it difficult to focus on doing my job when I feel like I am always on the defense around this person, which causes me to react to certain behaviors negatively.

My mother is concerned I am going to blow up on this person at some point if I bottle up all of my emotions, because, after all, I do still have mood swings. I can feel my anxiety coming on when I think about work now because I don’t want to deal with the negativity in the workplace. Fortunately, I have an outlet now (this blog) to express these difficulties, which gives me a healthy way to cope. Writing has really helped me explore different ideas, so I have more insight into different situations. Of course, the great benefit to that is learning how to deal with difficult people in a better way.

A New Beginning


How happy it makes me to relish the fact that 2015 is over, finally. In 2014, I faced homelessness, so I believed that 2015 could only be for the better. In some cases, it was better. After all, I was able to graduate from college and get out of a shelter situation (with my wily womanish ways). My daughter got to attend a great program through her school. Best of all, Bernie Sanders burst into the limelight and gave many people a glimmer of hope, especially me.

My mind is whirling with the many challenges ahead of me in 2016. I just started a new job, one that I could have only dreamed of obtaining in Indiana. Next week, I will begin attending classes again so as to finish my legal assistant degree in May. I am so close, but now my dreams have gotten even bigger. I want to do more than I ever have before.

It is almost as though my great losses have inspired much more in me than I could ever have expected. My brother’s death made me want to reach out to people in a new way; it also forced me to find a healthy way to grieve, which turned into the Borderline Bipolar Project. Losing a person in such a manner truly changes a person, no matter who you are.

I believe that experiencing homelessness again, and having to find a way out, also changed who I am. My mother has made a good point about my failed relationship with “the wrong Nick”. She recognizes that without him, I probably would not have graduated from college (even though I was only 3 credits shy of earning my general studies degree).

So for better or worse, 2015 was a learning experience, a very important one. I know now to avoid relationships that have no real meaning behind them. A loveless partnership agreement between two people living as a couple is a terrible idea; at least, I learned a valuable lesson.

And I’m still learning, every day. That’s what matters most. That is how we break free from the chains of cognitive slavery, through mindful habits and self-awareness.

The Mourning Moon

Mourning moon
Yorktown, Indiana

It is time to let go now

Time to move on

Let this old life burn down

And get the heck out of this town


That golden doubloon

Cheering me on

I will be gone very soon

This will be our last full moon


I have a great sadness

That still holds on

But there is also a gladness

There will be no more madness


How does one say good-bye?

And just walk on

Without batting an eye

Or taking a moment to cry


After the tears will come relief

Keep truckin’ on

And hold onto that belief

That I’m turning over a new leaf

Domestic Violins

IMG_20120814_102136I play my fiddle away

Knowing that I have today

To fight against you in dismay

That looming, giant upright bass

You tried to smash it in my face

That’s when I pulled out the mace

It really is such a shame

When we first met you were so tame

I wish I’d known it was all a game

Life is sometimes really strange

Now it’s time to rearrange

Maybe I’ll go beg for spange

I will play my harp today

In hopes that I can get away

Not right now, but someday