The dreams came back. Laura thought as she slept. I'm a conscious sleeper, while I dream most of the time I know I'm dreaming. It doesn't stop the emotional response and terror I feel but sometimes if I'm lucky I can make myself wake up. This was one of those times. As I blink the sleep from my eyes I recall the dream. Being chased up the stairwell of a building by a knife welding lunatic I don't know who really wants to get stabby. I know how that dream ends, one of two ways. One I end up on the roof of the building and I have to either be stabbed or jump. I've done both so it's a no brainer for me, I'ma jump! As I haul my 300 pound butt off my bed and walk as fast as possible to the bathroom before I piss all over my carpet. Trying not to step hard because poor Mrs. Connie downstairs hears us stomping around like dinos all day. And of course as I get to the toilet my oldest son Jamie left little pubic hairs and crap from a dirty ballsack on the seat so of course I have to try to hold it and clean the seat before I can sit down. And of course for the 3rd morning in a row I piss myself bending to clean the seat. THATS JUST GREAT I yell. So the next 15 mins I'm cleaning up myself and the mess. Now to go get some biscuits and gravy from our favorite donut shop up the road. Those Asians or slant-eyed mfers as I like to call them since I can't figure out what people they actually are, not because I'm racist but because I just don't know the difference. Not all of us watch anime
I know I come off as a bad kinda person but you live life with schizoaffective disorder, social anxiety, separation anxiety, bpd, and the universe knows what else. I have more issues than national geographic. My issues have issues. Somehow I'm still alive. I love my husband and kids. I don't much care about anyone else other than a few people. I don't have the same feelings like everyone else. I know I'm different even though I look like everyone else. My whole life is masking my differences. Its best to not stand out or be different. But the flip side to that is I am freaking covered in tattoos, even on my face, I'm 5'11 and 304 pounds. No fucking way am I gonna blend in anywhere other than prison or a homeless camp. It's like I'm many people in the same body and all of us have different thoughts politically and religiously and everything. Its so hard being me. Don't even get me started on being a parent. I literally feel bad for my kids having me as a mom. Yes I love them, I'd give my life for them but being so mentally damaged I make a lot of parenting mistakes. And my oldest son is just like me, mental issues and all. ( I'm sorry son) I never planned on having kids, their father and I used protection and I was on the shot. Looking back now, I kinda wish I had taken in the butt. But we are here and I love him.
As I huff and puff my way into some sweatpants, no need to change my nightgown since it didn't get pee on it. I've only been wearing it for about a week now. Yay depression.
Before I head out the door I stop to do a mental checklist.
Do I have keys? Check.
Money? Check.
I carefully pick my way to the front door, I see my son didn't clean his area up. Gawd I wish we could afford a 3 bedroom place so he didn't have to sleep in the living room. Wouldn't be so bad if he cleaned up after himself.
I step outside and realize it's changed seasons since I last came outside and it's lightly raining but I can tell it rained hard recently. Burr it's cold I say as I'm slowly working my way down the stairs. I wish management would fix these stairs they have jagged metal edges that stick up. I'm always so worried I'm gonna fall...again but we ain't talking about that.
I get in the car and start her up. She's running a little rough and the oil light is on even though we just got an oil change a month ago. And we added more oil so idk what she wants from us.
As I pull out I see the crackhead next door is at his usual crackhead shit, this fool out here sweeping the rain in the parking lot while wearing nothing other than some white shorts. I pull out my phone so I can get some video to make a tiktok later. I have zero respect for drug addicts. My family taught me all I need to know about addicts.
I'm laughing as I pull out of my apartment complex. Man that's better than tv
I drive carefully cause I don't have a license. Only because I lost mine when my backpack got stolen and I don't have the paperwork I needed to get another one. 5 years later and I still haven't handled that. I need to do that. Its hard to take care of all this stuff when I have so much to do already. I never have the energy to do anything. I know I need meds. I need therapy. But if you've ever had to seek mental health help with only Medicaid then you'd understand why it's easier to not. I'm tired of the circle they put you through just to get better.
Oh man it must be my lucky day I think as I pull into the donut shop. Only one car in the drive thru. As I wait my turn I turn down the radio, I don't like any distractions when I order. The universe knows my head is always so loud, it's hard to form a coherent sentence when I have to talk to people in public. Anxiety is a bitch.
Its my turn to order so I give my order to the bald asian guy who is almost always there when we come.
Small biscuit and gravy and 4 glazed donuts.
It only takes a few mins before he is back with my order and change. As I pull off I feel proud cause I managed it without any issues. This just might be a good day. I feel happy and turn the radio back on. As I drive by the police station I shift uncomfortably in my seat. We really can't afford to lose the car. Chris would have to walk to work and that poor guy deals with enough, he don't need that. As I pull into the apts I'm singing barbie girl at the top of my lungs. I park the car grab the key and food. With keys in one hand and breakfast in another I climb the stairs. Man I hate these stairs I think right after that though my fears come to fruitation, my sweatpants are caught on that freaking metal piece and it's enough to throw me off balance. As I fall I try to catch the biscuits and gravy, I guess we know my priorities. As I am coming down it's like it happens in slow motion.
My glasses are still in my face but they have moved down my nose to its harder to see. The biscuit and gravy is right in front of my face now so I reach out for it and bring it closer to my chest as I fall.
Suddenly all I see is a bright light. Its so bright all around me I can't see anything. It's like waking up from a deep sleep. I'm standing in a white space, I don't see anyone or anything. Even the ground under me is white. I know I didn't die cause that's make this heaven and I don't believe in god so I don't see why I'd be here.Then suddenly a voice speaks out.
This isn't heaven. There is no heaven.
As those words sink in I whisper, "I knew it".
The voice in the light laughs. I have some options for you to be reincarnated. It stated. We try to pick things out that are tailor fitted to you but if you don't see anything you like we can come up with other options.
A screen showed up about ten feet from me.
Out of habit I stepped closer to read it and realized I didn't need to, I could see it from this far! How cool. Being nearly blind my whole life I could definitely get used to seeing better.
The screen read
Archer
Star wars
Battlestar Galactica
Daria
Powerpuff girls
Before I read any further I'm getting upset. I don't want to live any of these worlds. Yeah I love the shows because it takes me from my world for a while but that don't mean I wanna live there.
Before I can try to voice my opinion the voice asked what world would I want to live in.
I'm not the best at getting my words together to speak to people, apparently in the afterlife it's no different, go figure.
How do I put into words that I'm tired. I never asked to be born. I am ok with dying. I'm not ok with having to do it all over again. I just want to die. The end. Its not a tragic thing if it's a mercy.
You don't want to be reborn? The voice ask.
No I don't.
The voice explains that I won't have the mental issues in my new life.
I who rode the short bus knows that can't be right since I was born this way to begin with. So if my soul is reincarnated over and over it must be breaking down so to speak because well duh! I exist. And therefore this voice can't say that with any certainty.
I choose to not be reincarnated. I choose a permanent death.
I was given it the end.