Spidey Sense

I HATE being lied to. HATE, HATE, HATE it! Because when I find out I've been lied to I feel stupid for not knowing and I feel as though the person thinks I'm either not worth being honest to or that I will react dreadfully if I was told the truth. But how many people are more angry to find out that they were wronged AND on top of it, lied to about that wronging? I mean I'll always be less angry if I'm given honesty because that shows at least a little moral fiber.

For whatever reason, we, as humans or mammals or whatever you want to blame it on, learn to adapt to our surroundings. We adjust to the living situations, to the time, to the people around us. Constantly shifting, changing, learning to live in this world. And over my 23 years of life, I have developed a skill in my adaptation. Perhaps skill isn't the right word because I have no control over it. I can not force myself to do it or force myself not to. It just happens. But for whatever reason, I have come to have sort of a "Spidey Sense", if you will. It's this dreadfully heavy burning, churning, nervous, angry feeling in the pit of my stomach. Now you may think I just need to stay away from specific foods and stop imagining that I have superhero powers, but this feeling only comes when someone tells me or a loved one a lie. Not all lies, I'm sure there are little ones that slip past at times. Oh but never the big lies...the big lies are obvious from the moment they're uttered because that feeling starts and just sits there, making me feel sick till I get the truth. And so far in these short little 23 years, it has never been wrong.

Which leaves me unable to decide if I like this intuition of mine. This Spidey Sense for liars. This adaptation to help me survive my surroundings. I mean, yes, I know when I'm being lied to, hooray. BUT at the same time is there not some truth to the saying "Ignorance is bliss"? We can't hurt if we don't realize we've been wronged. We can't feel stupid for not seeing it all before. The things I've found out because of that feeling are some of the most awful things. Things I would love to never know because much like Pandora's box, once they're out there...they are OUT THERE. For eternity. My mind has yet to learn how to "unknow" things. And unfortunately, I'm unsure if it's because I'm smarter than most or liars are just less smart than I am, but their lies usually unravel themselves with no assistance from me. One moment I have this feeling eating away at me and then next thing I know *ding dong* "Truth delivery for Ms. Ferguson". It's like the truth finds its way to me on its own.

That dreadful feeling in the pit of my stomach has never been wrong...and I have it right now. Do I want to know the truth or simply accept that ignorance is bliss? Maybe I can just hope that it's wrong this time...very, very wrong.

Dreams

It doesn't happen often, but on occasion I have very vivid dreams. When I was pregnant with Little Man, it was a repeating dream of being trapped in a maze. I could hear a baby crying louder and louder getting more and more frantic, but every turn in the maze seemed to be a dead end till I'd finally find the baby to only discover it had died in the hours it took me to find it. It was an awful dream to have when you're pregnant at 19 and are terrified of what life holds for you when this baby gets here. Although I'm pretty certain that was WHY I was having that dream. Cause I was alone, young, and had no idea how I was going to manage to take care of a baby when I was just a baby myself.

Almost 2 years ago, I started having this dream where my ex was cheating on me, in this giant cheesy heart shaped bed in front of everyone. Including me. And when I'd confront him the woman would run out, he'd run after, and I'd run after him. She'd leave and I'd catch up to him to ask how he could do that to me and he'd simply state "I never really loved you, I just didn't want to tell you that and hurt you". An awful dream when you're only a year into marriage. The ex would often wake to me smacking him with a magazine or a pillow in my half asleep angry stupor or I'd ask him if he loved me (just making sure) and then make him promise if he ever stopped, I needed him to tell me.

But eventually both those dreams stopped. And other than the occasional random non-sense dream, like a friend who suddenly gained 400 lbs. or my children building me a house out of mashed potatoes, I don't dream often. Until the last 2 nights that is...

And I know exactly why I'm having this one. But this one isn't a nightmare like the other two. This one is pleasant and full of good things, which is scarier than any nightmare because that means my mind thinks that my current life is already the nightmare and it can't come up with worse. Instead it comes up with amazing things to save me from the roughness of reality. It kinda makes me want to sleep as often as possible and hope for that dream to come back...

Overdrive

My mind hasn't stopped in almost 24 hours straight. And it doesn't help that my ears are ringing from the concert last night, so I can't even use sound to drown out the thoughts in my head.

I over think. It's part of the OCD. And completely obnoxious.

What if? What if? What if?
Who is thinking what? Why did they just do that? Why are they talking? Why are they not talking? Are they mad at me? Why aren't they mad at me?

Aghhhh.

The loneliness is the worst at night. And so are the questions.

*deep sigh*

Busy busy busy

Ok so I'm not really busy. But I have been finding myself wishing I were busy. I don't know what has been different this past week or so, but the alone-ness is getting to me. Maybe it's the large amounts of free time. Maybe it's the loss of so many people who I once called friends. Maybe it's just boredom. But whatever the reason it's driving me crazy.

I have to find something to do. Something to learn. Something to throw myself into to. If I don't...I'll be throwing myself into the loony bin.

6 more weeks of winter...

Yesterday was my birthday. That's right, I'm a groundhog. And yes, I've heard ALLLLL the jokes about how my mom was lucky I didn't see my shadow on that February 2nd 23 years ago. Unfortunately, good ol' Phil has seen his shadow and predicted 6 more weeks of winter. Although, with the winter we've had here...I'm not too worried. And all in all, it wasn't a bad birthday. Woke to a voicemail of my dad singing happy birthday. Got to spend all day with my little men. And treated them to a little McDonalds. Nothing crazy, but it was nice. The little man kept wishing me a happy birthday!
I can not complain...

Tell me why

I have never been close with God. I've never had that amazing incredible hearing God thru everything kind of relationship. I guess it's because of the way the OCD makes my mind work. I have to comprehend things. I have to understand. Things have to make sense. And God...well, He's anything but easy to understand. He's mysterious and confusing. So believing without comprehending has never come easy to me. I keep trying though. I keep chasing, trying to follow without questioning everything, but moments like this make it even more difficult. Why can't I know WHY things are happening? Why can't I know WHY the more I search for God the more the life around me falls apart? What am I doing wrong? Why do I struggle worse when I need God more? People say when it rains, it pours...but why? Why do trials and tribulations come in herds? It's like my life is a train...one car derails and pulls allllllll the rest with them. And why do people feel the need to remind me that God never gives us more than we can handle? How strong exactly does God think I am? Why do more and more things keep piling up, yet I'm getting no answers, no help fixing them, just a whole lot of nothingness. Again I ask...what am I doing wrong?
"Believe God will fix it." "Trust that God will provide" All good sayings, but what if I'm doing the best I can believing and trusting, and I still have all these questions, all these problems, all this mess...

Back at the House

I thought I'd hate being in the house alone with the boys. So much space, so much to get messy and have to clean up, so many quiet nights after my little men are in bed. But honestly I don't mind it so much...

I've never felt like there was time to relax, it was a constant stream of cooking and laundry and cleaning. But I've found with only 3 people, it doesn't get so terrible. Yesterday I had time for 2(Yes, I said 2!) long relaxing bubble baths! I even had my dear ol' friend Jewel over for some crafty time! (Don't get me wrong...Jewel is by no means "ol" in age, just one of my longest friendships! Since KINDERGARTEN!!!)

Only problem is...the dryer is out. I pushed the button to start it today and it went "grrrrrrrrbuzzzzzzzz...POP" then the whole house smelled like burning plastic. Yay! (Note the sarcasm in that excitement) So my poor little house is currently covered in wet laundry, hanging from chairs, sprawled across the kitchen table, all just waiting to dry. *sigh* Looks like that tax check will be going towards either fixing the dryer...or God forbid, buying a new one. Ugh.