Wishing for Daisy Halos - Dreams and Reality

Once again it's just me and the computer, the monitor wailing it's monotonous pitch, sounding loud enough to wake the world that sleeps around me.

I can't sleep lately. I need the sleep, I need to get better. I need the peace found in slumber. And I don't know where to find it or how. I think too much. I think about everything that's nothing, and make myself sick with stress. I dream in dreams that aren't soothing. Not nightmares, per say, just dreams of busy-ness, dreams of reality. What kind of dream is reality anyways? And yet, when I finally manage to con my body into giving up this insomnia, it lashes back with restlessness. And the morning comes earlier and earlier every day. the day, longer and longer. The needs of my children larger and larger. And my house? Disgustingly dirtier and dirtier.

I hate it. But this rut I have managed to dig with my wont has left me with my fingernails bleeding. How can I get out when I don't really know what I'm getting out OF?

Maybe my nose has gotten me here. Sticking it into places it never belonged in the first place. Maybe my heart, finding a resting place on my sleeve, is to blame. Maybe it's as simple as my fat, repulsive body.

I have never claimed to have been born in a manger, but some people's crosses aren't made of wood. They're laundry and family and pride-- a deadly combination that is stronger than any MDF.

And some of the voices in my head are right, though most are just vacantly ranting of yesteryear.

My patriarchal blessing gives such great promises. How much of those promises have I lost through my wickedness? How many times does those future pages of my life get erased before they actually get to the "too late" time period? What can I still receive? Have I messed up chances for certain things because of my marriage? Because of my greed? Because of my impatience?

I'm so impatient. I want what that blessing says NOW. I want to be that person that few others can see in me. Hey, I can't really see HOW they see that, since even I can't see it from the inside out! Who are they seeing? the dream or the reality?

It's getting close to the time where there won't be next week to fix things. Where the counsel will have been given one too many times, and for lack of following it, I'm left behind with half a year's food storage. With a mortgage. Without a temple recommend. Without enough faith.

Faith. Actually, I may be alright on that street corner. The others? I know humility goes a long way-- but I'm a long way from humility!

Maybe the reason I can't sleep is because I'm afraid to sleep. Maybe I'm worried that tomorrow will be that day. That Chris will just up and stop loving me. That I'll just up and stop loving him! That I'll be so self-absorbed that I'll miss my children's love. Maybe I'm worried that I WON'T dream in reality, and then I'm not even sure of sleeping anymore. At least this way, I know what to expect.

Do I sound like my mother? Controlling and needing to know and be part of everything, even dreaming?!!? I need to be needed. I need to help people. Aye, there's the rub-- my idea of helping them, is it really assisting them or hindering them? Is it MY way, or the right way?