Things in our house has been a bit busy for lack of a better term.
Chaos, insanity, head-splitting tantrums (the kids, not me, as much as I wanted to throw one myself), the change in weather causing everyone to be gunky and not sleep well (which has developed into a full-blown head cold that everyone now has >_<), my eldest suffering from her 4th or 5th UTI this year that has the potential to land her in the hospital, and the September Birthday Rush has started (3 of 8-10 birthdays this month have passed thus far, Gods help us all).
So things have been a little mind bendingly wonky here.
I cooked a delicious dinner for my eldest’s birthday (on the 2nd) of a roasted chicken, baked veggies, mashed potatoes and gravy, and we splurged on a Barbie themed cake for her. Originally this was only for us, because I had been told explicitly that there was to be no “big gathering” for all this month’s birthdays due to money and school schedules. So my husband and I planned for a small, celebratory dinner.
What we actually got was almost exactly like the scenes in the Hobbit when the company of Dwarves arrive. The only thing missing was them scraping their shoes off on our furniture, and tossing the dishes about while singing a catchy tune.
I had made one large chicken, which was barely enough for everyone, and was only able to salvage a small dish of leftovers for my husband to take to work, when this sort of meal would have given us several servings later on.
We had lunch with my husband before he left, and my sister, her boyfriend, and my youngest brother all hung out here for the remainder of the afternoon. I kept asking when they were supposed to head home to prepare for my brother’s 18th birthday dinner (they kept mentioning it in dubious tones, so I kept checking in with them in order to prevent issues with She-who-shouldn’t-be-named), but I received mumbling replies and hedging. My sister and her boyfriend left after several hours of hanging out, leaving my brother to watch The Avengers with us until my folks came to pick him up.
Once it got dark, my parents arrived to come over for cake and presents with us, and stayed for another hour or so before leaving me with all our dishes dirty, 2 sugared up kids, 1 cranky infant who missed nap-time, and my husband working til after 11 pm.
I was not happy, and completely exhausted after everyone starting the day at 6 am, spent the remainder of that week trying to clean up the mess that was left behind, and deal with my eldest being in school, various appointments, a teething infant, and a cranky almost 3 year old who kept demanding cake.
By this past Sunday I was at the end of my rope, but was utterly unable to sway any sympathy from my extended family. It was this day that I realized how sick of everyone’s narcissistic, self-absorbed, and generally oblivious behaviors I truly was. Not just my female bio-donor, oh no, but everyone I was related to by blood (EDIT: aside from my children).
All were lumped into one category of contemptible and I wanted to line them all up for knocking their heads together. I waited for over 5 hours for my sister to come over to help watch the girls while I did some dishes and made dinner (the dishes were still an uphill battle at this point.) but she had other things to do, so I told her not to bother. Needless to say, I have had a rough couple of weeks.
My everyday life hasn’t been the only thing chaotic and driving me to the brink of a breakdown, my dreams have been wringing me dry and leaving me gasping for air in an effort to keep my head above the tides pulling me under. Some dreams are only vague memories of running in terror from something or Someone behind me.
Others were a repeating theme of Beings lopping pieces off of my body, each night in a different area, all pieces of gristle, bones, tumor-like growths, parts of my spine were hacked out and replaced with pieces of metal mingled with stone, fossilized bone and painted stripes, all of which left me wracked with pain each morning afterwards.
Still other dreams of seeing a woman who had just had a baby decapitated and washed away by the ocean, leaving me to nurse her son. I woke up searching for him, and only finding my daughter nursing in her sleep.
Or the dreams of werewolves rending me into bite-sized pieces, and then the transformation into one myself.
Of roaring bond fires surrounded by masked Beings under a feral Moon, drumming and shrieking at the darkened sky.
Of running through the woods after a deer or prey animal, and devouring their warm flesh, and tasting hot blood running down my throat, waking up each time fighting the urge to scream, tear off my flesh and then run through the woods in search of fresh killed meat.
Writing these things down is exhausting, but also needed, because I feel like if I don’t share this, I will tumble into madness. My mind shies away from examining some of the memories, but they keep rolling over my barriers and reservations like a tsunami of feral energy gnawing at my soul in an effort to run free. The only thing I can do is ride along the top of the waves and clutch at what little amount of safety I can garner.
During all of this Loki hasn’t said much out loud, but He is damn sure showing me plenty. I can see His influence in the birthday dinner, my dreams, and each day with my kids. But not as a way to punish me, no, not really, more to show me the places I am not being honest with myself. I haven’t told everyone in the family grouping to go fuck themselves, and I get taken advantage of repeatedly. This needs to change.
I often rush through the day with my girls in order to make it to bedtime, and miss out on the little moments of joy. So everyone gets sick and I am on Mommy duty 24/7. Everyone craves my cuddles, is only consoled by my presence, and cries if I am not there. So I have to slow down and be in the moment with them, cuddling, singing, cooking yummy meals full of magic and herbs to encourage their recoveries, and ignoring the chores in order to be there for my kiddos.
I realized when I looked at my dreams that they are in part influenced by the desire to take my Path further and touch the Divine through ecstatic rituals, primal magic, and using plants or ointments to help bridge the gap between myself and other worlds. But at this time I can’t do these things due to time constraints, breastfeeding, and the physical limitations of my fibro. I crave shape-shifting vision quests that show me the animal Spirits that I can tap into, I want to dance on the razor’s edge of my abilities and drink from the Well of Knowledge, I want to crawl through the bowels of my own spirit and create a peace with my inner Demons and Shadows, and I seek to learn more every day.
So these dreams would appear to be the answer to my desire to push myself, and the feeling of frustration that I have hanging over my head when I fall short of my expectations for my Path. My astral Self seems to be more than happy to accommodate these wishes by dragging me out of my body for nighttime adventures, I think I just need to take care in how I phrase things, and set up more safeguards to ensure that I don’t burn out or lose my way back.
More about the topic of sleep is in an upcoming post in progress, hopefully I will have time to hammer out the details and whatnot within the next few weeks.