Life has taken some interesting twists lately, mostly into “Am-I-going-to-die-ville” with stops at the ER mingled with increased insomnia, panic attacks, counselling, odd dreams I cannot remember when I wake up, and my first attempt to start a fiction story.
Two weeks ago I ended up going into the ER twice for crushing chest pain, one trip (late Monday night) lasted until 3:30 am the next day, and the second one was a recheck because the chest pain never went away, so I was back in the ER with all of my girls and my husband in tow. After two different EKGs, a chest x-ray, a CT scan, blood work, and being hooked up to O2, I was sent home with the probable diagnosis of viral Pleurisy. I saw my new doctor last Monday morning, he assured me that my heart is indeed NOT breaking apart inside my chest, and the ER diagnosis is correct.
I have had recurring chest pains on and off ever since these visits to the hospital, but they seem to be paired with a panic attack that renders me unable to breathe, move, or function other than on autopilot. I have had to employ my new PRN meds for them, but they seem to do little for helping overcome the symptoms, they just make me a little sleepy (which helps with panic attacks at night when I can’t sleep, but not much else). I have been trying to deal with these happening, but feel like I am running out of options on how to do so. As I continue to see my counselor (3 visits so far), these panic attacks are coming more and more often. They are happening at least once a day, and I am starting to feel agoraphobic about leaving the house at all, so when I have to go on outings, they are worse.
My theory is that I have been holding in so much about my past for too long, so now the has been removed, and all the nastiness, pain, anger, and hatred is gushing out. The dam within my soul has come down, and what’s washing down the canyons of my insides scares the crap out of me. I know it is needed, but I wish the uncontrolled feelings of sheer panic would let up at least a little, just so I can feel like my head is above water, instead of being pulled out to sea drowning on the unspoken screams of my past. I want to get rid of all the festering filth inside me, but the reality of it exiting is overwhelming at best.
The insomnia and dreams seem to come and go, I often doze just enough to have time pass, but it feels as though I haven’t slept all night long. I lay awake in pain until my meds kick in, but then I awaken feeling groggy and in more pain later. Some of the only details I remember from my dreams are looking into the milky eyes of a blind canine who was speaking to me, and trying to translate what they were saying. Another dream I had two nights ago involved me waking up with the words “Tichel” and “Trishula” being written onto paper in front of me.
I hailed the Almighty Google with these words, and discovered that a “Tichel” is a head covering that is used by women in different faiths that require modesty, or are used by women who prefer to cover their heads for personal reasons. I talked to my husband last night about possibly trying out a head covering to help with my anxiety and panic attacks. I don’t know how well it will work, but I used to cover my head as a teenager after my female bio-donor shaved off all of my hair. Partly because it was cold, but also because covering my head felt right. I stopped covering my head after my hair grew back out, but never felt as self assured, strong, and confident as I did when covering my head. So now I am looking up tutorials on how to use scarves and cloth for a head covering, instead of just using a bandanna like I did in the past.
I found that the word “Trishula” is a 3 pronged trident or spear that is said to be wielded by Shiva, Durga and other deities as a representation of of a trinity such as: Creation, Maintenance, and Destruction. I believe that it could symbolize the changes I have been going through in therapy, life, and my health. I am grateful for being shown these different words in my dream, and I am hoping to be able to both use a head covering in the future, as well as researching more about Who is trying to get my attention with this symbol. I wonder if Njord uses a trident or not…
My fiction story is a zombie based idea in which my main character is modeled after me when I was younger, and has suffered great harm by her family, before they are turned into zombies. It is cathartic for me to write out her injuries, the things they say to her, how she is treated, and the feelings she has towards her family. I was never supposed to tell anyone what my donors did to me, and writing it out like a zombie story helps me expose the rot that they try to hide. I am also going to turn her parents into zombies and have my character fight them off, and kill them. My inner darkness likes this idea a lot, so I will keep writing until my demons are sated. 4,300 words so far, once I get a 1st draft I plan on sending it out for beta readers, editing, and hopefully I can publish it.