Van Gogh, Monet, and Picasso
Where's Dan Aykroyd when I need him? Ghosts are popping up everywhere this week.
All my neighbors have decorated their homes for Christmas. Mom has her tree up. I helped decorate a friend's tree on Saturday. I personally haven't done much of anything in the way of my own Christmas decoration in three years. I had a teeny tree in 2005 which I strung with Hershey's kisses, but that's all the Christmas decorating I did that year. Of course, I didn't have a space to decorate last year. So now that I have my own space, I still haven't done one shred of decorating. Why? Because when I moved out of the condo, I did so rapidly, and with much abandoning of items. I never even thought about the box of decorations in the garage. I didn't realize until May that this could mean never seeing my Christmas ornaments again.
Last night, I accompanied my mom at her school's Christmas dinner. Someone who died more than three years ago made an appearance in someone's comments, and this caused me some trouble. It would seem that I am still being haunted.
Counselor and I have been dealing with a certain issue for a few weeks, and last night's ghost played into that process quite cleanly tonight. This process usually has been rather predictable, with a sequence of difficulty breathing, migratory tension, and shaking. This time, however, there was no tension. Instead, there were thoughts and images flying through my brain so quickly I couldn't see or catch them. I told Counselor it was like I was standing in the middle of a paintball war, and I was getting hammered. Things did calm down before it was over. However, now my mind looks like Vincent Van Gogh, Claude Monet, and Pablo Picasso had a dramatic pointed, and painted, argument.
Facebook was suggesting to me this morning that I might have new contacts and I should let the Friend Finder check for me. This was not the greatest plan ever, and the new contact that showed up translated into a cruddy mood most of the day.
An email this evening tells me, though, that my Christmas ornaments are, in fact, not in Arizona, but still locked in the garage at the condo, not six hours but a mere twenty minutes away! Meanwhile, facebook has included the option of blocking specific users. I have made use of this feature.
The ghosts have gone to sleep. Now I shall as well.
All my neighbors have decorated their homes for Christmas. Mom has her tree up. I helped decorate a friend's tree on Saturday. I personally haven't done much of anything in the way of my own Christmas decoration in three years. I had a teeny tree in 2005 which I strung with Hershey's kisses, but that's all the Christmas decorating I did that year. Of course, I didn't have a space to decorate last year. So now that I have my own space, I still haven't done one shred of decorating. Why? Because when I moved out of the condo, I did so rapidly, and with much abandoning of items. I never even thought about the box of decorations in the garage. I didn't realize until May that this could mean never seeing my Christmas ornaments again.
Last night, I accompanied my mom at her school's Christmas dinner. Someone who died more than three years ago made an appearance in someone's comments, and this caused me some trouble. It would seem that I am still being haunted.
Counselor and I have been dealing with a certain issue for a few weeks, and last night's ghost played into that process quite cleanly tonight. This process usually has been rather predictable, with a sequence of difficulty breathing, migratory tension, and shaking. This time, however, there was no tension. Instead, there were thoughts and images flying through my brain so quickly I couldn't see or catch them. I told Counselor it was like I was standing in the middle of a paintball war, and I was getting hammered. Things did calm down before it was over. However, now my mind looks like Vincent Van Gogh, Claude Monet, and Pablo Picasso had a dramatic pointed, and painted, argument.
Facebook was suggesting to me this morning that I might have new contacts and I should let the Friend Finder check for me. This was not the greatest plan ever, and the new contact that showed up translated into a cruddy mood most of the day.
An email this evening tells me, though, that my Christmas ornaments are, in fact, not in Arizona, but still locked in the garage at the condo, not six hours but a mere twenty minutes away! Meanwhile, facebook has included the option of blocking specific users. I have made use of this feature.
The ghosts have gone to sleep. Now I shall as well.
Labels: Counseling
posted by Sam Gamgee at
7:51 PM
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