What dreams inspire...

He came to me in my dreams, a man as dark as the midnight sky and a disposition to match. He never said a word or even made a sound he was just there. It was as if I woke within my dream to find this featureless man using my body for his enjoyment. I tried to push him off but it was as if I was pushing against a wall of stone, he did not budge from my effort so I simply stopped trying. He merely continues to have his way with me as I lay beneath him prey to his wrath. I was not able to scream, not because he held me but because I had no voice. I had no strength for anything. My arms now lay limp next me to no strength to move, I just lie there and do nothing.


The haze returns.

I don’t know how long I lay beneath him only that it was like a dream within a dream and cloudy and confusing. I wanted to recognize this man, I tried to figure out who he may be or was. Did I know him? Was I really awake and being raped by this man concealed in darkness?

He looked directly into my eyes and he had eyes like mine but they were black. The whites of my eyes were black on him. I could make out long curled clack eyelashes that would have been beautiful on any other man but on this man that was raping me and stealing my essence they just added to his unpleasantness. Had I convinced myself that I had seen a flicker sadness cross his eyes?

He continued sliding in and out of me now slower as if he knew I was more aware now and wanted to take advantage of the lucidity and offer me a little pleasure before the cloudiness and confusion returned.

His skin was very much like mine, ridges, soft and smooth but black like the color of coal. He had eyes, a nose, lips a chin but yet no real features to be told of. He simply was a shadow of a man. I heard myself moan and this made him wrap his arms under me and grasp my shoulders so he could penetrate deeper. I felt his lips brush mine and his searing hot tongue make a trail to my neck and down to my shoulder where his hot breath burnt my neck.

The fog returns…

It’s Saturday morning, I hear my son running around the house with the dog…I can’t move. I feel exhausted, I could sleep the entire day but I won’t because of that strange dream. What the hell was that about? Who was that man? Why would I dream such a thing? I better not tell Ian, he with give me some sick Freudian explanation for it or he may say that he is the shadow man since I was upset with him.

Yeah better keep this to myself.

Been a shitty day for the diet

I killed it.

Death  by:
A cheese burger
French Fries
and a chocolate cupcake

On the bright side I did have a diet Dr. Pepper

BROKEN HEART

I have been feeling like my heart is shattered. You know that feeling you get when the love of your life has walked away from you?

Yeah that feeling. :-(

Alone.

Anxious.

Sad.

I am sure this will pass I just have to work through it and figure out what the loss is that I am mourning.

What do I think I am mourning? Who knows.

My freedom?

My youth?

My smile?

My sense of hope?

I’m having the quicksand dream again. Feelings of being pushed down by a force I can’t see.

I know I have an enormous amount of things that bog me down and I am sure they all play a part in these feelings.

My stresses in no particular order:

1) Work

2) Weight

3) Family

4) Finances

5) Life

What can I do to remove some of those stresses and feel less anxious and overwhelmed?

1) Workout – this would help my weight and stress

2) Budget better – and stick to it

3) Eat better

4) Find some time for myself

5) Move far, far, away from all of the bull shit.

Someone else’s mess…

I am posting this even after I told someone that I was not posting it. I have my reasons for not wanting to post it but hey what is a point of a blog then to convey your thoughts right? So here goes my little piece of the net…


Someone else’s mess…

How often do you clean up someone else’ mess? I know, I know we all do it. We all try to fix someone else mess and sometimes we step in the gap and become their solution. This is bad news for us. After we figure out that we have become the solution to another person’s problem it makes it hard for us to do anything for ourselves because we then disturb this other person. Any movement we make now causes a major disruption in the person that considers you their solution. Once the DISRUPTION has come about, the anxiety, stress, fear, anger and a slew of other emotions for BOTH of you will follow because you are now TRAPPED.

Or so you think.

All you have to do to get out of this predicament is let go. I know that is pretty difficult in its self. We are afraid if we let go that person that uses us as their support will fall and bust their asses beyond repair. We are afraid they will not survive if we let them fall. Well guess what? It’s not your problem. If they fall and bust their asses well that is their problem not yours. You are not them and you are not responsible for their actions. They are just like you and can learn to function on their own. We cannot take on this persons mess along with our own. I know that sometimes they try to force it on you and MAKE you take it and then when they fall they want to blame you for the pain of their thorny landing.

DON’T TAKE IT, IT’S NOT YOURS!!!

What happens when you take it is that we then allow another’s person chaos to cloud our judgment, we develop this tough connection to said friend (leach/parasite) and we allow them to feed off of us. They don’t have to do any work because we do it for them. We then are angry and feel used and fenced in because we took their load. We start to let their problems and issues steal our joy and our sparkle.

Let it go….

You may have to try a few times before it takes and you may feel quite guilty for letting them fall but it’s not yours and every moment you give them is a moment stolen from you, your children, love…life.

Let it go…

WOW, I LOST TEN POUNDS!!!

Well I am not sure how accurate my scale is since my son has been known to jump on it and it may be off a little bit (buying a new one this weekend). I can’t say I feel ten pounds thinner or even see it but I will take what I can get at this point. Ok so I am not setting up my bikini photo shoot just yet but I am going to cheer for myself instead of beat myself up like I normally do. Ten pounds is ten pounds and I will go at this slow and steady and pray its 109 friends will soon follow and get lot too.


I have been trying to envision myself 109 lbs. lighter and I have to admit I am getting pretty excited. I hope I don’t look like a prune and end up with layer upon layer of loose flesh. I am hoping that my 34 year old skin still has enough elasticity to snap back into place. *fingers crossed*

I am envisioning a healthier, active, fun mom for my son.

I am envisioning being more confident with who I am.

I am envisioning shopping and loving it.

I am envisioning my poor body not aching anymore from carrying around my 2** Lbs. every day.

I am envisioning…..

I guess the list can go on and on but I won’t do that to you…today.

I can say whole heartedly that staying away from my old habits is a lot harder then I first thought it would be. I know that sounds weird of course it’s hard stupid!! What I am trying to say is that I thought that once I made up my mind to do this and told myself this is what we are going do and we are not giving up this time that I would just bulldozer over my attraction for chili cheese fries and greasy burgers but no IT LIVES. The mere mention of them as I write this got my heart racing and my taste buds on over drive. *wiping drool*

I have only been at this a couple of weeks and I am determined to stick this one out.

I have lost 10 lbs and I have 109 more to go but I am not looking at it like it is a huge number, I am looking at it as small steps to my goal one pound at a time.

Have a great one!

Deb

A journey of a thousand miles...

A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step. -Lao-tzu,

How many of us have begun that journey just to bow out shortly after because we were not sure of ourselves? How many of us have gotten halfway there and then turned back because it seemed too far?

Many of us have given up the battle before we even begin to fight. I am one of those people. The trail looks too traitorous and exhausting so I give up without ever starting my journey. I am not like this about everything in my life but there is one thing in my life that has just beaten me to a pulp.

MY WEIGHT.

Don’t get me wrong, I have started this voyage many, many, many, MANY times in the past and sometime I am temporarily successful and others I never even get a few ounces off. I know what I weight and it has begun to eat at me every day. I look at myself and I am not happy with what I see, I try on clothes that use to be flattering and now wont button or zip and I am crest fallen. I know what you’re going to say. “Well Deborah, watch your diet and add some exercise to your day.” Yes that is very easy to say but not so easy to follow. When I get home from work it is after 6pm and I have to rush to get dinner made which gets on the table after 7 if I prepare some of the stuff the night before. I have to sit with my son for a bit and catch up with him and before I know it 9 pm is knocking on the door. My sons bed time, I tell myself, “Put him to bed then jump on the treadmill for at least 30 minutes Deborah.” NEVER HAPPENS!!! So instead I have been watching my weight creep up the scale like a crack on the wall, ever so slowly until you one day notice this HUGE thing on the wall. Well that’s pretty much how it happened. A year ago I was about 40 lbs less then I am now and I can’t say I saw it coming. I was busy with life and I let it bite me in the ass…or maybe I bit it and ate it and that’s where the 40lbs came from.

Now for most people that know me when I tell them how much I weight I can see the shock register on their face. Why? Well maybe I just don’t look that heavy or maybe they never realized I was that fat. Who knows but I am not offended by it because I get the very same look every time I look at the scale too. I get the urge to throw it against the wall and tear it into little bits because it is so blatantly lying to me about my weight. I tell myself that I am not fat it’s the 100lb ass that I carry around that’s fat. Guess what? I’m fat. I can accept that and now I have to do something to fix it. I need to be healthy for my son and for myself.

In my head I weigh at the most 200lbs. ha, ha, ha been a while since I have seen that number. In reality I weigh 2?? lbs. ok so I am not ready to tell you how much I weigh but then again does it matter? Telling you the number is not going to change the fact that it is way too much for me…well actually it’s way too much for the weight of two average sized people…ok well maybe not quite that much but close enough.

So here goes nothing….*taking a step* starting my journey again for the 500,000th time. I won’t say that I failed every single one of those attempts because to me failure is giving up and accepting defeat. I know my weight issue and a lot more to do then just the fact that I am friendly with food. It will take work on me and a great deal of effort to break my old habits and create new healthier ones.

Here’s to the journey…I will keep you updated.

When you fall don't forget to get back up....

These past two years have been pretty difficult for me but yet awakening. I have gone through some pretty significant changes in the past few months that were and have been taking shape over the past two years.
We don’t always want these changes or look for them but yet they are there sitting in your lap and you have no choice but to deal with them.

How you handle change is what makes the difference. Will you be resistant to change or will you flow with it calmly? Will you allow this change to take shape in you or will you unaffected?

I felt the winds of change coming and I prepared myself for the storm, knowing that everything I knew in my life was in danger and that a great deal of it would be destroyed before the calm was felt.

A great deal of pain was handed to me and I had no choice but to accept it because I felt responsible for holding up this intricate house of cards that we had built. If I had refused to take the pain the house would tumble and all would have been lost that I had fought so hard to build.

It’s strange how we convince ourselves of the great evils in store for us if we do not follow the path set before us by everyone prior to us. I had convinced myself that I would have to live with my burden and pain because it was the road I had chosen and there was no way of changing that. My burden got heavier and my pain dug its way deeper inside of me and began to consume everything about me that I once found valuable.

Falling was not an option and letting go was death in my eyes, so I held tighter to everything that was slowly killing me. “I will make this work” a mantra repeated daily to myself. I allowed this pain to overwhelm me, emotional boils rupturing. I was no longer Deborah, I was a shell of the woman I was once, layered with coats of pain and disappointment. I was dead.

My eyes opened the instant I realized that there was nothing left in me of the woman I remembered. I looked at myself in the mirror and did not recognize the person staring back at me. Who was I?

I stood still for a moment, just a moment and then I let go….

I let go of the pain. I let go of the fear. I let go of the disappointment. I let go of everything that took part in killing me and slowly like snow fluttering on a cold winter day the house of cards came tumbling down around me taking me with it.

I rested there for a moment, just a moment and then I smiled and stood up.

Diary of a Stalker

I am invisible to her, she never sees me, even when I stood next to her and her son at the bookstore. He looks like her, nothing like his father. He has her eyes, her complexion and most of all her smile. The first time I saw her smile, I was infected, the image consumed everything in me like cancer and then I could think of nothing else but her. She smells like lavender and vanilla, so delicious and enticing.

I know she has never thought twice about me since our first encounter; two feet from her desk. I can't stop thinking of her. I close my eyes and I imagine her walking towards me. I study her from head to toe, her carefully shaped eyebrows, her sharp Italian nose that adds to her exotic looks, her succulent lips plump and red. My eyes dance over her voluptuous body, full like her lips. Her fingers and toes always so manicured. I wonder if her husband still looks at her the way I do. Does he touch her toes? I would. She is smiling and her confidence radiates off of her. The more I think of her the more aroused I become, I call her. (I only have her work number, I got it off her business card. I looked her up once but the number I found was no longer valid.) She answers the phone and I say nothing, I just listen. She hangs up, I call back, and she hangs up, calling back for a third time my favorite. I can almost see the fire in her eyes now. I wish I were standing next to her at that moment.

I love her eyes, brown like autumn; they truly are the windows to her soul. One day she was having lunch on a bench and I saw her writing in a book, her eye's kept changing. They were on fire, they looked deep through the paper she was writing on, then they became dark and vacant as if recalling something that strangled her essence. I sat there staring at her wanting to lick the tears off her cheek. I wanted to taste her, she looked up and smiled at me, I got up. She had sent me an invitation, but then some guy walked past me and sat next to her. A friend? He must have known her because the tears stop flowing and soon after her laughter rang in the air. Her eyes are alive again; they get up and walk off in the direction of her office. I love to watch her walk. The swaying of her hips, the tightening of her calves. Poetry in motion. I waited a while then I called her from the phone next to her office.

It's five-o clock now, I hate five-o clock because that means she is going home and I can't hear her voice again until morning, but I get to watch her as she waits for her husband. She gets to work at six thirty every morning; I sit there in my car and wonder why, because her office does not open till eight thirty. What does she do in those two hours?

After her husband picks her up I think about her and what she may be doing tonight. I get aroused… I imagine her next to me, I smell lavender and vanilla, my manhood erupts.

Morning comes and I can't wait to hear her voice, I call her on my way home from work. I can hear her smile on the phone. I don't say a word but she knows it's me, we have been sharing these calls for weeks. One day I'll say something to her, one day I'll tell her how much she means to me but for now I just want to hear her voice.

I met someone today that looks so much like her. She does not smell like lavender and vanilla but more like a rainy day. She does not float gracefully when she walks, she stumbles and is inelegant but she will do.


She loves my car, fast and sleek. She says she has never met anyone like me… she lies. I bought her some pretty dresses just like my sweeties. I asked her to wear my favorite one to church on Sunday. I always go to church on Sundays; my true love sits four rows ahead of me with the mistake and our child.

I tell sweet look a like that I have a surprise for her; I take her to the same stylist that my love trusts with her beautiful locks. I tell her that sweet look alike would like a make over, she longs for a new image. Her brows are almost perfect, her hair short and the color almost a match. She has her hands and toes done, she is almost as breathtaking as the original but she is missing the sparkle and fire in her eyes.


I tell look a like that we are going to my families beach house the following weekend. I laid with look alike but made love to my soul mate. I had six cameras hidden through out the house catching every act from every angle. I made sure she never looked in the direction of the camera because then she would ruin all of my work. We have a great time those few days, but her job is done.


I watched the videos of my love and me on our special weekend. I wondered if she was thinking of it too. I called her and played it loud so she could hear herself at how much pleasure I gave her. She got upset and pretended it never happened. I called her back and began to moan the way I did when I was with her. I guess I embarrassed her because she hung up. I called again but a man answered so I hung up, she must have stepped out to the ladies room. I love her and our son.


I have to talk to her, she seems to be upset. She has not answered the phone all week. What is happening? I thought our weekend went so well.


I see her, she is with him, and I don't know what she sees in him. He is not suitable for her, he does not have anything to offer her, I had him checked out by his plates. He is using her.

Wow she answers the phone and before I know what I am saying I tell her in an almost inaudible whisper "I missed you!" She is still angry. I called her all week with our videos playing, knowing she would remember how great we are together. Some one must have been around, she hung up every time.


She looks gorgeous today. She and I are at the same meeting, we are on the same community board. I never heard a word the speaker said because I could not take my eyes off of her. The woman sitting next to me from the TV station noticed I was preoccupied and asked me "Who is she?" I replied "How do you know?" She said "I remember that look!" I pointed my sweetie out and told her how madly in love I was and that she was upset with me but I was not sure why. I confessed that I may have been moving too fast and that she was not ready for such a commitment. The lady from the TV station told me to be diligent that my sweetie would come back.


I called her when she got back to her office and I told her I had been thinking about her, she hung up. Still angry.


I know if I keep playing her the tapes that she will remember how much she loves me. I know if I keep showing her how much pleasure we brought each other that she will return.


I saw her today in that flowing black skirt that I so love on her. It accents her assets if you know what I mean. I can't help but call her over and over today. My God she needs to understand that I need her. The end of the day is coming and I am at work with her on my mind, I see her in my head with that skirt I love so much. I call her, she answered the phone, I say "I love your sweet big ass" in the most lovable way. She asked me to repeat myself; she wants to hear me compliment her ass again. She remembers! I say "I love that black skirt on you, but I would rather see it off." She hangs up. I am so confused I wait a bit then I call her back, I say " So baby are you gonna give me some of that sweet ass?" Something happens she says the police are tracing the call, I don't understand I hang up. What just happened? I hear dispatch on the radio they need an officer at her office. Is she ok? I am about to say I will respond to the call when someone else says he is already there, he was on site. What's happening? Why does she need the police?


I ran into the guy that answered the call a few hours later and he said she had a harassing caller. Some crazy guy that has sex on the phone when he calls her, he said this freak calls her everyday and moans and watches porn while on the phone with her. She said she has been getting these calls for months but that today he described her clothing and she feels he threatened to sexually assault her. She knows that he is just not some perv calling a random number he is a stalker.


No wonder she has been upset, it's not me she is upset with it's this perv that's been calling her. I can't let anything happen to the love of my life the mother of my child. I will make it a point to stay closer to her from now on. What kind of police officer would I be if I couldn't even protect the woman I love?

SLEEPING WITH A STRANGER

I wrote this a few years ago when my relationship with my (ex) husband began to sour. I use to look at him and wonder when the man I loved disappeared. Things change...

The thing about change is that sometimes we change so much that we forget to tell the person that is supposed to be closest to us that we changed.


I don't remember when he left; I only know that the man in my bed is not the man I married. He transformed into a person I don't know; he does not resemble him in the least bit.

His face is hard and rough.

His eyes dark and deceiving.

Who is this man that stole my husband’s face?

Every night when we lay together I pray that when I wake up my sweet love will have returned.

My husband, my love, use to hold my hand and kiss my nose.

The man that shares my bed does not stop to look at me.

My husband use to stay awake just to watch me sleep.

The man that shares my bed never notices when I am not in it.

Every day I look at this man and search for the man I married.

His smile is cold and his eyes vacant when we share our bed as a man and a wife should.

What is he thinking when he looks into my eyes?

Does he know that he does not belong in that body?

Does he look at me and long for the wife he has been searching for?