Weird Dreams

Had some weird dreams last night that have oddly put me back on track.

Lately I've been wrapped up with another illness, about a week long this time. My immune system seems to be getting stronger. Must be the sunlight and heat. I've also been putting all of my energy into Bri and glasswork. Created an original piece I'm still not fully happy with but I redrew the lines and it looks better for the second time I cut it.

Bri has been doing well with her speech. That's taking some worry off of our shoulders.

The dreams were of a road trip when I was in 6th grade. I never went on an overnight in 6th grade but it must have been drawing on the trips I took in 7th grade and 10th grade. In this dream I was left behind at a bookstore. The bus left without me. I just felt this rage at being forgotten, like I was invisible. Even with a list of names I didn't seem to count.

It reminded me of the 7th grade trip I took to Boston. Besides having roommates that never shut the hell up so I was sleep deprived for five days, I was excluded from any group outings. The only group outing that I remember was the bus stopping at a shopping mall so we could get some snacks. We were supposed to stay in groups of four and none of the other kids wanted me in their group. I think the adults were going to get a nip at the pub so they didn't want me there either. Probably annoyed at me staying close to them during the whole trip anyway.  So I stayed near the bus and didn't get to eat or even browse.

I remember getting back to the pickup point at the school. I know I must have embarrassed mom but I had a total melt down. I didn't think about how it made her look to the other parents. I must have seemed like a really spoiled and pampered kid who freaked out over not being doted over for a few days. But I was sleep deprived and excluded from everything. Even the adults had shunned me so I was raring to go when she asked me how it went. I remember screaming about how horrible it was and I never wanted to do it again.
I don't remember the exact words. I didn't go to DC in 8th grade because of that.

I'm glad in a way because I know the same thing would have happened. I would have had shitty roommates and been hungry and sleep deprived again, excluded from all group outings. My real friends didn't have the kind of money that my parents did and so they couldn't go with me on these trips.

In high school I didn't want to miss out on a trip to France because of petty shit so I ignored a lot of the crap that got dished out onto me from the other kids. The kids my age treated me the same way they had in middle school and so I was excluded form their outings and also from being roommates with any of them.I ended up in a room with three older girls. Melody, Felicity and Amy. Amy started in on me from the beginning. She stepped into the middle ofmy suitcase, said I was getting my grease and dirt on her stuff, etc. I went hungry a few nights because they wouldn't split a pizza with me and I wasn't gonna buy a whole one for myself. When I went out to dinner with them one night they spilled soda onto my plate before I even ate anything.  Mostly it was Amy. I think she put her boyfriend up to it that time.

I loved the places we went but the people I was with were at best, apathetic. I got in trouble one night because the girls went me to knock on one of the boys' doors. I guess I interpreted their request as a chance to fit in a bit and so I did it knowing it was wrong. The teacher was hanging out on the stairwell chaperoning. As a teacher and a parent she really was the best. Any responsible adult would have done the same. So I got screamed at although her language included the other girls. I think she knew I was put up to it. It was the only time any of those girls apologized to me. Ofcourse Amy was not one of them. Just the other two.

Amy finally backed off on the last day when she came really close to getting the shit kicked out of her. I had gotten a lock of hair decoratively wrapped with thread at the Pompidou Center from one of the street vendors. Amy yanked on it and said something like "you think you're so cool."  I had one of those moment when I actually saw red. There is this rage that manifests as heat that flows from the spinal column up over the back of the head and crests right over the eyes in red vision. I've learned since childhood to stay perfectly still and let the wave crash and recede in order stop myself from a violent outburst. Being raised in a violent household I've learned to be afraid of my temper. You can't marinate in violence half your life and not take some of it into you. So I've learned techniques to keep myself under control.

I think Felicity saw that in my face. Somehow she knew enough was enough and laid into Amy to back off.
I don't know if she really knew how close I was. She was the quiet one out of the three so I imagine her empath level was higher than the louder girls in the group.

It was not an ideal environment. I loved the experience and loved the places I visited but hated the people I was with.

I think some of these high school and grade schools issues are coming up because of my fears of what Bri may have to deal with at school. I saw how a girl who was a year older than her looked at Bri when Bri sat next to her at the breakfast table. Like she wanted to move away but was stopping herself just to be polite.
Bri is a rough and tumble kid. She gets bruises and scrapes from climbing on things and running in the grass. She's not dainty. Maybe that offends some of the girlier girls. I recognized this girl as one of the ones that wears sparkly dresses everyday and directs the dollhouse playgroup.

I do worry about how I'm going to prepare her to deal with other kids bullshit. It's easy to put her into Tae Kwan Do and hope that she can at least defend herself from physical attacks but emotional attacks are harder. They can be really subtle in body language, intonation and simple "forgetting" that someone else is there.

How do I help prepare her psychologically without falling into some cheesy pop-psych cliche?  Much of it she's just going to have to learn the hard way. I'm bracing myself for the first crying session when some kid has to be an asshole and not pick her for a team or call her fat just because she's well fed and has an athletic build.

We've got strong bones and defensive linemen build in this family. I can benchpress hubbie's upper body.
Hehe. I guess I'll just take it as it comes.