Oh my gosh, I love the internet but wow can it bring you down…

Everywhere you look there is someone telling you that your dreams will come true if you wake up an hour earlier, do this, do that… here’s my story of how I took these three simple steps and my hopes and wishes all came true.  Blah blah blah.

As I said in a recent email to the awesome Meg from That Hummingbird Life (check out her recently revamped website which is not at all like what I am about to describe!):

“So many sites are like things were shit and then I discovered smoothie drinking headstanding yoga dance and now it’s all sunshine… Which is frustrating to read about. I’ve had depression as long as I can remember, my earliest memory of it was at 7 so at least 23 years, it’s probably not going away however many early morning sunrise spinach drinks I have.”

And to all the people who say anything is possible if you just try hard enough, it isn’t.  I can’t be an astronaut.  I am quite simply too short.  To say nothing of my disability which no power of the mind will overcome.  I can’t be president of the United States, I am not an American citizen.  I can’t run a marathon, I can’t even walk to the nearest shop.

Some things are impossible.

And it drives me to frustration when people try to argue against that.  Can you imagine the day to day experience of constantly dreaming of travelling the world when it takes almost a year of trying to finally organise a trip to see your sister who lives a mere 100 miles away?  The crushing disappointment that you would face every moment you dreamed of your impossible dream would probably break you.  It would certainly break me.

Which is why I don’t dream the impossible.

Out of self protection, over the last few years, I have actually lost my ability to dream.  Faced with severe depression, anorexia, increasing levels of pain and fatigue, continuing developments with my EDS, needing care, retiring and more, I have closed off my hopes.  So many ideas for my future have been snatched away in the last few years that I couldn’t go on dreaming.  And those small wishes I had became impossible in the face of everything else.  I desperately wanted to go to New Zealand.  But to go with a carer would mean paying them and paying double for everything.  Flights and accommodation quickly mount up to £10,000 which I will probably never have because of how my care contributions are worked out.  Friends repeatedly tell me not to give up, if I want it hard enough etc etc… But I can’t keep pinning my hopes on a one in a million shot.  It would break my heart, my soul and then my body.

So I closed myself off from my dreams.  Which is a really shit place to live.

And when you are faced with website after website telling you how to achieve your dreams and to just go for it, it all gets a bit sad.  I can’t even make the first step towards my possible or impossible dream because I haven’t a clue what it might be…

I am grateful that I was able to shut that part of my mind off for a bit, as I said, I don’t think I could have coped if I’d had to face my crumbling dreams head on whilst dealing with everything else.  But now, now feels like a time to start reopening that door.  Not to the impossible.  Just to have a vague idea of what the rest of my life might look and feel like.  After all, 40 odd years left without working gives a lot of empty time…

I’m doing some art work with a friend and we’re both working on canvases which are looking really cool and I’ll probably write more about that some time.  Anyway, recently we realised that mine looks a bit like a dreamcatcher which is so relevant to my little ponderings about dreaming.  I wrote a note in my diary so I’d remember that was the direction I wanted to take my piece in.  Then, when I looked at it this week, I realised I’d written dreamwatcher instead of dreamcatcher…


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