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Learning to Dream Again
It’s a big risk I am almost willing to take.
It’s been a really long time since I have dreamed-daydreamed, I mean. Life has been harsh and cruel, and survival has been all I have been able to manage these past three years. That is not to say it has not been dotted with many joys and sweet moments. Those have saved me.
Daydreaming takes time and energy. It takes desire and hope. It takes space and creative freedom. And I have been pretty close to empty on most of those for quite some time.
Trying to divorce a narcissist, only to spend almost two years with a man with BPD (who tried really, really hard, btw), caring for my kids, trying to keep my home, and dog, cats, chickens, etc…has been a lot. It’s been too much.
I don’t even know where to start. I want to dream. I feel them bubbling up inside me, but everything feels too hard. Everything feels impossible. And I ask myself why that is. And all I can figure is this:
I gave up my dream of being an opera singer when I was 20, after being married for a year, and realizing I had no time to rehearse with so many work hours. I also knew I was going to have to have kids someday…and is the road the place to raise kids? I wanted to live everywhere. Do a few years in Italy, Austria, France, and the US, here and there. But, that…
