I have no money to pay the electric bill or water bill that are due this week, and that is not even a result of me going out and spending money we don't have. I have been making my own coffee at home instead of buying overpriced coffee shop coffee. I have not been making extra trips I couldn't afford. I have been telling my friends I can't go out to dinner because we have nothing. I have turned down so many friends, even friends that wanted to do something for my birthday. I would assume that if you wanted to take someone out for their birthday, you would offer to pay for their movie and lunch when they couldn't, but that is simply what I would do. I would do it without making that friend feel like a burden, either!
Yesterday, my younger brothers had pushed my buttons too far. He knew it was our niece and nephew's birthday party, and he said that he would have to get a ride to town and if he got a ride to town, he would prefer to go watch a movie with his girlfriend. This is not something I would not expect from a sixteen year old boy. However, he had already asked if he could just stay at my house because his girlfriend's parents did not want to take him back home, ten miles away, at night. I told him I was sick of my house being the fallback. It is one thing if you are in need of some family time, but when my house becomes the waiting area or fallback house and you don't help pay bills or for groceries, it is going to send me over the edge a little. He had already been here for about a week just two or three days earlier. He had been here the day before and left pop cans on my living room floor and a blanket out in my living room. He knows how anal I am about things getting back in their spots, and he knows you don't just get to come to my house and leave your mess.
On top of all that, I am sick of people using my stuff! My knitting looms, my yarn, my utensils, and leaving them wherever they want to. I have a case for that stuff, a special one my sister got me. Sometimes I think she is the only one who truly knows what makes me tick and actually cares enough not to make me flip out! That shouldn't even come as a surprise. My younger brother did buy his own knitting looms and yarn, and I shouldn't fail to mention that he made me breakfast and coffee on my birthday. I think in a way, it made me more sad. It was so nice of him to day, and it was a good breakfast. I experienced a very strange emotion, though, as I walked out of my bedroom and he said, "Oh, you ruined it. I was going to bring you this breakfast in bed." He had the plate and cup in his hand, and I was instantly taken back to when I was little and Mom would wake up to early and we would say the same thing to her. It was strange to be the one getting breakfast "in bed."
I haven't dreamt about my mom in months, either. However, in the last three days, I have dreamt about her three times. Last night, I dreamt about her, and in my dream, we still lived in my childhood home. She had left for Kentucky in the morning and was supposed to be home that evening. She didn't come home that night, though. The next day, she still wasn't home, so I called her friend to ask what had happened. She said my mom had been suffering from hallucinations and had been saying she could see a man when there wasn't one there. In my dream, my sister had also been suffering from these hallucinations, the same ones. It was very strange. My mom came home later that day, and all of a sudden, I ran to her histerically crying. I hugged her and told her I had been so worried when she didn't come home.
In my dream the night before, my mom was alive and had not ever been dead. She moved us back to our house in the small town I grew up in, but she had moved without me helping her. When I came home, she had given my little brother my room, and I was expected to use the bathroom as my bedroom. My bed was where the tub should have been, but the sink and toilet were in the same spot. The bathroom was still the same awful coral green. Nothing had changed about it, but I could not understand why she would put me in there. She was acting like it was some sort of punishment, and I just felt so hurt.
Anyway, I hope that I can dream about my mom as she is now, in Heaven. I hope we can talk and I can hug her and kiss her. I hate dreaming that she is still alive but something tragic has happened to her or that she is still alive and so disappointed in me that we can't have a relationship. What do you think that is saying? Have I not really accepted the fact that she is gone? Is there a missing link somewhere that I am not seeing? Is she trying to tell me something?