Oh wait, I don't think anybody knows about my eye...
Okies. It all started last August, when my dad passed away. :D I was very upset about losing him as any good daughter would be, went up to the Market to buy cat food and my daily dosage of Monster Energy (in hopes of cheering myself up) sat at the playground I always do. I had to remind myself in the store not to buy newspapers for my father. Well, having had to do that, I got myself worked up enough so that when I was sitting alone at the park I began crying just as any girl would. Then three Jocks approached me.
Two in the background were throwing rocks in my direction and jeering while a very tall one came to loom over me as I sat on the swing set. I can remember him saying "Don't cry emo kid" and other things. Instead of being a good girl and telling him to back off, I hit him in the chin with my can. He gave back approximately five feet and nearly fell. I stood, took my bag of cat food cans, and before he could strike me back I swung the bag like a flail very effectively.
In short, it didn't take too long to bring the boy down. It was only after I had let off steam that something bad happen. I was trying to calm myself down as his friends helped him away. I thought it might be smart to hold my nose and my mouth closed and exhale. It was the stress, and doing that, which caused my left eye to...well...leave its socket. Yes, it did hurt a tad. Kind of like a squeezing sensation.
I had to call one of the boys back-- The one that seemed most compliant-- to use his cell phone and showed him what I had done. He looked rather queasy, and did as I asked. The boy I had formerly beat up sat down and waited with me as I called my sister and had her come pick me up and bring me to the hospital. Why he did, I'll never find out. I haven't seen him ever since that day. It was a very strange and stressful day altogether.
So I found that I had overstressed my eyes. Both of them. The stress I had been feeling within the last five days was enough to cause everything in my head to go tense. Dirt had gotten into the socket while it was out and all the attachments were well together, but badly bruised. The doctor said it would take about a year for my eye to fully heal from being out for so long.
WELL NOW THAT IT'S BEEN ALMOST HALF A YEAR... I find that now my eye is INFECTED! Peachy, no? This year has got to be by far my worst.
-- Edited by Bandkanon at 13:44, 2008-04-10
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And now for a shameless plug:
I DON'T WANT TO BE THE ONE WHO'S STUCK WITH ME WHENIWHIP MY MEAT OUT TRAPPED IN A ROOM WHENISTART TO BEAT IT. \8D/
Oh, God...I am so sorry to hear that. Hopefully the doctor can repair your eye. And it is sad to hear that your father passed away. Is there anything that any of us can do to comfort you? A silly picture, perhaps?
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Favourite Conversation:
"Hey, Mr. Bump. Thought I'd drop by for a visit." "Uh, hello, Miss Whoops." "Sorry to hear about your accident." "Oh, well. That'll teach me to wrestle elephants." "Hey, a remote control! Ooh, how about we watch some rollerderby?" "Uh, uh, no, Miss Whoops, that's not for the T.V.! Ow! Bed! Crunching! Oh!" "These remotes are so unreliable..."
It'll heal up eventually. I just can't use it until it does-- And I'll tell you, it's quite the challenge to operate without it. If my eye had stayed out any longer than it had, I would be a cyclops. >_>;
And thank you. I'm not absolutely depressed, but it comes to me every now and then. Besides, there wasn't any escape for him besides that. He was a Dialysis patient, had Type 1 Diabetes, his health was all messed up, and he just couldn't go on any longer. Half of his life was sheer misery. Knowing that he's passed on, and painlessly for that matter, is all a good daughter should want. Though that doesn't make up for missing him.
I had to train my mind into accepting my father's death ten years ahead. That is how bad his health really was.
Hmm... Just a hug is all I need. :3
-- Edited by Bandkanon at 15:49, 2008-04-10
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And now for a shameless plug:
I DON'T WANT TO BE THE ONE WHO'S STUCK WITH ME WHENIWHIP MY MEAT OUT TRAPPED IN A ROOM WHENISTART TO BEAT IT. \8D/
Wow. I've heard and read about a lot of ****ed up experiences in my life, but this has got to be one of the most ****ed up ones I've heard about yet. On so many levels. =(
Those three jocks (including the one you beat up) probably sat with you out of guilt. I mean, when they came up to you initially they were probably just looking for a cheap easy way of giving someone a hard time. Absolutely classless thing to do. But when they saw you lash out as you did and pop your eye out of your socket, they probably realized it was something pretty damn serious. As it was.
And now, of course, to add insult to injury, your eye's infected! Do you know what type of infection it is? Some are more serious than others. But either way, that really sucks. =(
For whatever it's worth, I've also been through the experience of losing someone close. Maybe not quite as close as a father, but it still really stung. And it really, really sucks to go through, as, of course, you know. I suppose it's a tragedy we all must face at some point or another, unfortunately. All things must die. But to quote George Herbert, "a sweet and virtuous soul... through a whole world turn to coal, then chiefly lives".
And for whatever it's worth, I'm here for you. *hugs*
+Hugs back+ My biggest problem right now is that I keep having dreams where my Dad is still alive (or alive again), and I know he should be dead, so I wish him away. It always makes me feel so rotten when I wake up, like "why can't you accept a happy dream about your father?" +Sigh+
Though I do remember, the first dream I had the night after his death was quite enlightening. I don't think many people would be willing to hear it, but it's here if you want to hear me out. I wrote it down once before, simply so I wouldn't forget.
Spoiler
In my dream my sister, mother and I all lived in a very different house from the one we really do. The house was set in the middle of what seemed to be endless lush fields. Dad was apparently supposed to be still alive, but he had to go someplace, I don't know. Far away.
It was a teary goodbye, but he left anyway and we watched him pack up his brown ditty bag (I actually use that ditty bag now) and headed out. We watched him go...It was a very romantic vision and I liked it. It seemed like it could have been the end of a very touching dream.
HOWEVER. The dream continued by repeating itself. For some reason it appeared that mom had attempted to start the dream over in attempt to stop him from leaving. It didn't work out and instead of him leaving so easily there was some kind of hassle with Dad's departure-- I think he had lost something he needed from the bag. Instead, he stormed off huffily into the distance. Less poetic.
And yet again, the dream started itself over, again by Mom's wish, and the situation still got worse. By this time I knew it was a dream as I watched dad quarreling with our cat Zipper and we all tried to pry the two from eachother. Suddenly, Dad disappeared without a trace quite inconveniently. That was when I began trying to wrench myself from the dream.
I was in the dreaming-of-reality zone (I think) when I saw what seemed to be the sillhouette of Dad thumping the way he normally did into my room, coming up to the side of the bed and POKING ME. Kind of hard. Right on the left arm. The shock woke me right up and I spent about four hours thinking about it and trying to understand whether that was just a dream or not. My thought is that it was more than just that.
I knew for a fact it was Dad telling me something very important. I still think Mom and Meaghan needed the message more than me. What I felt in the end was kind of like "Dad, you're silly and I love you, but you know I knew that all along. I'll tell mom when she wakes up."
And as for my eye...It's prosterior blepharitis. Apparently while my eye has been busy trying to heal itself, it's also been excreting far too much liquid to the point where it seems as if I have out-of-control oil glands, which isn't so. It can be fixed easily with certain ointments, but I have to be in a dark room when I remove the patch to selve it. Which REALLY sucks, because then I can't see what I'm doing.
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And now for a shameless plug:
I DON'T WANT TO BE THE ONE WHO'S STUCK WITH ME WHENIWHIP MY MEAT OUT TRAPPED IN A ROOM WHENISTART TO BEAT IT. \8D/
That is a very interesting dream. I wish I had a dream like that whenever a family member passed away, whether they be human or not...just so that they could let me know that they still loved me and/or that they are in a happier place where physical pain is non-existant. As for your father poking you in the dream, that is very unusual, but it is (dare I say it?) awesome. I would like for Cozette (my previous non-human companion) to give me a message, too, but...I doubt that she could.
As for your eye, having to be in a dark room to apply the ointments does indeed suck, but it will help your eye in the long run. I hope that your eye heals completely.
Also, I do not normally do this, but...
*Hug*
If you want, I can still draw a silly picture for you and scan it in.
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Favourite Conversation:
"Hey, Mr. Bump. Thought I'd drop by for a visit." "Uh, hello, Miss Whoops." "Sorry to hear about your accident." "Oh, well. That'll teach me to wrestle elephants." "Hey, a remote control! Ooh, how about we watch some rollerderby?" "Uh, uh, no, Miss Whoops, that's not for the T.V.! Ow! Bed! Crunching! Oh!" "These remotes are so unreliable..."
I think that dream you spoilered is easy enough to interpret...
In short, it seems like you believe your father either left too soon, in a less-than ideal way, or both.
You said that you had been training your mind into accepting your father's death ten years prior, right?
That makes the dream make all the more sense. It seems like the first part of the dream, where he leaves very romantically, represented the ideal way you would cope and accept his death. However, as the departures went on and got worse, it started to resemble how you actually felt about his death. You were preparing for years to accept his death, but when it actually happened, you still missed him a lot. Perfectly normal. But still painful. Which is why the dream got more and more painful as it went on.
As for the dreaming-of-reality part, I have no idea. Hypnagogia might actually account for that, mixed in with the memories of your father sparked by your dream, but I really can't be sure.
I'm sorry if that was a little personal, but I wanted to see if you thought this interpretation made sense.
I think that dream you spoilered is easy enough to interpret...
In short, it seems like you believe your father either left too soon, in a less-than ideal way, or both.
You said that you had been training your mind into accepting your father's death ten years prior, right?
That makes the dream make all the more sense. It seems like the first part of the dream, where he leaves very romantically, represented the ideal way you would cope and accept his death. However, as the departures went on and got worse, it started to resemble how you actually felt about his death. You were preparing for years to accept his death, but when it actually happened, you still missed him a lot. Perfectly normal. But still painful. Which is why the dream got more and more painful as it went on.
As for the dreaming-of-reality part, I have no idea. Hypnagogia might actually account for that, mixed in with the memories of your father sparked by your dream, but I really can't be sure.
I'm sorry if that was a little personal, but I wanted to see if you thought this interpretation made sense.
-- Edited by Dragon Wing at 01:34, 2008-04-12
Actually, it's different from that. It didn't take me long at all to realize that the message was a good one. In the dream, my mother was attempting to keep him present longer. The message was that, if anyone had tried harder, that would only make his agony last longer and the end would become messier. I understand it quite well, and I'm content with my feelings. All I have left is that, from time to time, I remember that I forgot of a presence that isn't there anyway. It sounds very romantic, but it's true. Things were bad enough for us already. Prolonging a person's life when there truly is no hope only means that it'll be worse in the end.
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And now for a shameless plug:
I DON'T WANT TO BE THE ONE WHO'S STUCK WITH ME WHENIWHIP MY MEAT OUT TRAPPED IN A ROOM WHENISTART TO BEAT IT. \8D/
Man, and I thought MY days sucked. D: You went through physically what I go through emotionally.
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Herr A: We didn't put a Christmas tree up, nothin'. We went to the beach. It was wonderful. BUT... I got in water up to my... crotch area, and when that wave hit ALLLLLLLL my business went running towards my intestinal tract...
Wait, that reminds me. Was it you Angela, or Akira that interpreted that dream for me once?
It depends on what dream it was. I think I interpreted at least one of your dreams but you'll have to remind me what it was. Otherwise, it could have been Angela.