Digging up Dreams

Light Blub Moment…. Ding, Ding, Ding, Ding,  Well Duh!

‘FawnDear, you’ve stopped dreaming.’ My husband told me yesterday and I burst into tears because, you know, I’m a deranged hormonal female he nailed it.

Since the unbloggable happened in July it feels like my soul has shriveled to the size of an old prune shut down.  I couldn’t pin-point why until until my Prince enlightened me with his wisdom.  He was dead-on.  I had stopped dreaming.  My motivation had gone from following my dreams to being a zombie mom on a schedule.  The pain of reality hurts less when you assume the zombie.

Dreams have been such a huge part of my life, my motivation for Improvement, Fun, Laughter and Magic.

So why did the dreams disappear?  Turns out, I unknowingly buried them, about a mile deep under bedrock, or so it seems.

I chatted with my Always Young and Gorgeous counselor about it yesterday and we figured that all the knocks I’ve received over the past year with the house and finances self-imploding and, of course, the bombshell unbloggable;  well it turns out that all of those negative things had been shooting down some of my more established dreams.  And after the pain of losing some of those cherished dreams I shut down and quit dreaming in an attempt to not suffer further future hurt.  And that stupid shutting down turned out to be me destroying even more my own dreams. 

Zombie life stinks, to the tune of finding 50 lbs. over the past few months, the the detriment of missing out on opportunities to live magically with my kids, and being extremely self-conscious of my rapid fall while trying to enjoy those precious, few moments I have with my Prince Erik.  I think I’ve found depression, self-imposed though it may be, and I don’t want it anymore.

So how in the heck am I going to dig up my box of dreams?  I realized that yesterday was the first step.  Just realizing the extent of the damage was a place to start.  And I don’t want to be here anymore.  I want to Dream again!!!  And I want to dream now.  Who cares if life is raining unmentionables on me at this very moment,  I need to get back to the FawnDear that did this when the storms came.  I miss me.

Waking up from being a zombie is painful, emotionally and physically as I try to re-shed these layers of protective walls I’ve unconsciously erected over the past few months.

Young and Gorgeous told me what I need to do to start dreaming again.  I have to journal, blog, scribble in a notebook etc daily about my dreams. 

And I need to go through the motions of following those dreams even when I don’t feel the motivation burning in my veins.    She promised that if I at least started going through the motions again, those old dream muscles will start to wake up, get a little more feeling, reawaken from the zombie slumber etc.

Get this – She told me to put myself first.  That’s hard for me to do, especially when I don’t have enough hours in the day to even put my socks on.  Now I’ve first got to make time to physically and spiritually put my life in order.

I know she’s right.  Here’s hoping I’ve started the dream recovery process on this latest funk and am on my way to dreaming those dream once again.  I know they are there, just on the verge of my imagination.

Special thanks to all my bloggy friends who have been so patient with me as I went through this latest funk.  I can’t wait to experience joy again.  I promise my next post will be about fun stuff again.