I don’t remember if I noted this here or not and I didn’t go look but about 2 months, or maybe a bit more, I stopped eating sugar and quit drinking pop. No real reason, in fact, I didn’t even think about it, just I stopped craving sugar and I’d gone years without pop before and just sort of slipped back into not drinking it. The other day I was craving a diet rootbeer and I figured that it wouldn’t kill me… Wrong. I started to feel shaky and my head started pounding and my chest felt heavy. Oh, one more thing, rootbeer doesn’t have caffeine but I have cut down my caffeine to almost none. I drink an iced tea once per day. Stopped with hot coffee and do drink decaf iced coffee, anyway, I don’t know if it was the sodium or sweetener or what but it made me realize that I had been feeling like shit when I drank soda and I am feeling better not having those things in my life. I cut the caffeine on purpose. My anxiety was too overwhelming and I thought… You know! Caffeine can not be good for that!! I was right. Really proud of myself actually. Oh, and if I do have something with sugar I literally eat about a square inch of it. I’ve found that if I eat any sugar or white carbs ( my frigging fave!) that I CRAVE more sugar.
My over medicated self ( for a couple of days until I pinpointed where my coherent thought had run of to and called the pharmacy ) had a silver lining…. Restful sleep. Thank God for drugs, I always say. But it introduced a new reoccurring dream… wanna hear about it? No? Ok, I’ll go ahead and tell ya! Any Two Semester Psychiatrist can probably dig into this one…..
There’s a flood, there’s always a flood, that part is normal…. But we have to be evacuated by plane and for some reason my grandparents are throwing this huge party. I spend the entire time looking for my oldest son, in this dream he fluctuates between 2-4 years old and I’m about 20 years old, and trying to make sure that he holds my hand while I have a backpack that I’m filling with food for him because the flight is going to be 10 hours long. That’s what I do all night. Find him, pack food for him.
Anyone want to take a stab at this one? It’s pretty easy.
The sleeping meds I take are infamous for people sleepwalking. Not me. I’m a talker and during the dream I once woke up holding my Juliette’s paw, I guess that was my sub for son’s had. She hates to have her paws held so she was giving me a look when I saw what I was doing. She looked like… Woman, unhand me or I’m gonna throw these paws! Then she snuggled with me.
I had no idea that I was the type of person who shops to fill that empty hole in my soul, turns out, I’m kick ass at this superpower and I’ve been getting pieces for our vacation. I’m in yet another midlife crisis and I’m changing up my “aesthetic” knee length or above, dresses, puffy sleeves or floaty sleeves, square neck, poofy skirt, ruching across the chest. Pretty much any shoe to dress it up or down from Ked’s to platforms to doc’s to flats. Yup. That it… and joggers, tight ankles, pulled up a bit, tank top and swim suit covers that look like men’s linen laidback shirts. I’m freeing myself. From what? Well, I guess constraints. Time for a new and, if I might add, fucking sexy, me.
I’m sure there’s more but I’m falling asleep. My schedule is jacked up.
Good morning Luvs,
Where have you been?
Me
No comments:
Post a Comment