Dear Doc,

I’m shaking like a leaf today. I don’t know why, but I feel so discombobulated. Last night’s dreams, today’s racing thoughts and the numbing anxiety are really almost too fucking much.

I slept in bed last night, for the first time since I came back from L’s. I knew there was a reason I didn’t want to sleep there. But, I did, anyway, because I needed to use my cpap and stretch out. So, I did. And he came for me. All night. He almost got me, too. I can’t tell you who, because I still can’t see his face. But he got so close. Oh my God, I can’t stand it sometimes. Your fucking nightmare pills don’t work on him. Not even a little. I swear, I’m dying from this shit.

I said some shit to my mom last evening. It needed saying because I’m sick and tired of the ‘fiction’ game. You and that ‘fiction’ bullshit…seriously. Just because you call a lie a ‘fiction’ doesn’t mean it’s no longer a fucking lie. I will say that I so love the term ‘fiction’. ‘Oh, she’s caught up in a fiction, dear, she doesn’t remember what’s true.’ It does sound lovely…to be caught up in a fiction. It sounds as though someone is lost in a paradise of their own creation. But, it does mean something altogether different, right, Doc? I’m sorry for ranting on about it, but that has just bugged the shit out of me since you said it. I don’t need you to candy coat things for me. I believe that truth is truth and lies are lies. It’s very simple in my fucking world. It has to be.

Anyway, we were having a discussion about my dad’s birthday. It’s in two weeks. Nobody really wants to attend. Why? Because of his past. He has had the luxury of a very long life, the first half of which he was a stone cold motherfucker. Even those who weren’t even born back then hold a grudge about it. What the actual fuck is up with that? I’ll tell you…It’s Mom. So, she tells me that he hasn’t exactly done anything to endear himself to his grandchildren, great and great-great. I lost my fucking mind when she said that. That motherfucker saved my goddamn life. He was and is my hero and I am not dealing with more of the same. He’s almost dead, for Christ’s sake. Why can’t they just let it fucking go? Bunch of assholes. No fucking respect, no real need for an old man who hasn’t greased their palms. Fuck. Them. All. I don’t need them, either. I’m so fucking tired of the family bullshit.

Nobody was worried about Dad being a piece of shit when they handed me over, were they? Not my mom…my queer as fuck father. Nobody. But they sure have been around for the punishin’. Yep. Fuck that old man…who does he think he is? We’re real Christians. He’s just some Bible thumping ex drunk. Blah…blah…blah…= FUCK EM ALL

Mom took a bit of offense to my statements. I can understand. I sensed that she is a bit afraid of me, for some reason. My grandmother was terrified of me, only that was due to her guilt and nothing of my own doing, I assure you, Doc. I told Mom that I have a right to feel as I do. She agreed, but was still in a lil snit. Later, she messaged me as though nothing was said. That’s the norm. The usual. The dreaded…always is. I will let the subject lie, as I said what I needed to. But I will feel the same way, no matter. I can do that now, with no regret. I dig that.

I know I seem unhinged right now. Perhaps if the shaking would stop and I could get the memory of last night’s dreamfair out of my head. Alas, it doesn’t seem to be going anywhere any time soon. I think I’ll have a drink. It’s a beautifully gloomy day and I’m in for the duration.

Till next time, Doc!

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