Bittersweet

Mother's day is bittersweet for me. Bitter because I hate my own mother, and sweet because I am mother to an amazingly beautiful daughter. Since I'm living under their roof for free, I am feeling obligated to do something for my mother for tomorrow. So I got her a card, which I made sure didn't say anything sentimental and certainly didn't include the word "love". I also got her a $25 gift certificate to a restaurant I know she likes. I'd rather have spent the $25 on myself, but I suppose it's a small price to pay to keep some peace between us.

Tomorrow the old people, my daughter & myself, plus my sister, her hubby and daughters are going to a local baseball game. My niece is suppose to receive some sort of award before the game begins, but I can't for the life of me remember what it's for. I'm keeping my fingers crossed for no rain. Was supposed to rain today but never did so I'm hoping all the showers passed to the north of us like they said they might and that it won't rain tomorrow.

Today I made my daughter's day a little brighter. I bought tickets to see Green Day when they went on sale this morning. She thought we were going to miss them because they have a show coming up that we didn't get tickets to. But they're coming back around in August. Of course after the fact she tells one of her friends who loves Green Day that she's going to the show and her friend tells her that she could have gone with if we had gotten her a ticket. That her mom would have paid us back for her ticket. My child really needs to communicate better with her friends. I asked her if she wanted to invite anyone...I ask her that every time I buy tickets, but she always says their mother's would never let them go. Now I feel bad because I know her friend would kill to go to the show.

Speaking of her friends, they're always sending questionnaires around with all kinds of 'get to know more about you' type questions like favorite color or favorite band. The last one that went around had a question 'whose parents do you think are the coolest'. I'm happy to say I won, in fact it was unanimous. Guess they appreciate the fact that I do drive them around all the time and they're all jealous that I take my daughter to concerts. At least someone appreciates me, even if I am nutty as hell.

Today I registered for the fundraising walk. I should be able to get my page up and running on their site on Monday. Once that's up I can begin accepting online donations. I've already started warning people I'm hitting them up for money. I have several ways to get donations so I don't think I'll have a problem reaching that $1,000. I may not even have to reach that amount though I'm certainly going to try and exceed it. I may only be required to come up with $700 or $800 if I find a team of walkers to join in with. Individuals that sign up as a team, or join a team that's accepting members into it, don't have to come up with the full $1,000 to participate.

I've still got to check on their website to see what team to join. They did tell me today there is one for people that have survived suicide attempts themselves. It'd be nice to join that one if they're still accepting people. I didn't find the team when I looked, but once they log my info into their computer on Monday, I can go to their message board and ask about it. If there isn't one, maybe I'll start one.

Ok, so this morning I managed to remember to write down the strange dream I had this morning that woke me up. Kind of nightmare-ish, but I wasn't scared enough to wake up screaming, I only woke up gasping for air. In this dream I'm living in an apartment with my ex & our daughter. The ex & I were still living as husband & wife. I come home with the daughter and hear the shower on so I head over towards the bathroom. The door was open with the shower being behind the door. I catch a glimpse of my ex in the shower with my sister-in-law thru the crack in the door. They didn't notice we had come home. I tell my daughter to go over to a friend's house. Once she leaves I grab a knife from the kitchen and go into the bathroom. I whip the shower curtain open and stab my ex in the neck. Once he's disabled, I start stabbing my sister-in-law about a dozen times, then turn my attention back to my ex. I don't know how many times I stabbed each of them, but once they were dead I dropped the knife and fell on the floor. That's when I woke up.

Bizarre. I don't know how else to describe these dreams. And they come each night, sometimes more than one in a night. I remember when I was in a day program at the hospital. I was having incredibly scary dreams, worse than what I've had lately. I wrote several of them down after I had woken up and gave them to my case manager. They were getting so bad that I was paranoid to go to sleep because I didn't want to dream again. I was told dreams don't mean anything, and I do believe that, but I don't understand why they get so bad when I'm on the higher Seroquel dose.

They're so vivid too. I can still remember the red from the one this morning. Red everywhere. Staining the walls, the tub, my body. Didn't see it as blood, it was a much brighter shade of red. Bizarre-o. I'm hoping I won't have another dream tonight, but it's pretty much guaranteed if I take my meds. Maybe I should just take an even higher dose of Seroquel. Maybe it'll completely knock my brain out for the night until my alarm startles me out of sleep in the morning.

And y'all think you're strange cookies. I'm the mass defective for a reason.