I am thankful that dreams are not real! Okay some I wish were real, but most I’m glad are not. Last night I had an awesome dream (and by awesome I mean not awesome!). In the dream I was horribly depressed. I took my youngest with me over to my parents’ house in hopes of feeling support, love and to not be alone. All my sibs were there except one, and they thought it would be really funny to pretend like they were all going to leave and that I came over for nothing. So I went around the corner and just cried as hard as I felt depressed (which did I mention was extremely?). And that’s when I woke up.
I hate that feelings can be residual from stuff like this. I managed to wake DrH half way to get a nice hug and make me feel a little better. And in effort to help it feel less real and get rid of those residual feelings I’m here writing about it. And you know what? It’s helping. So again, I’m SUPER thankful that dreams aren’t real! Cuz man, I have a lot of weird ones, and a lot of crappy ones.