Why I Take “Free Food” As An Insult

I was at the dinner table with my family.  The dishes kept coming out to the table, and I held back on the amount that I ate because I did not want to eat it all.  That’d be considered rude, and make it so that there was not enough food for anyone else.

After the last dish was finished, everyone got up from the table and it was claimed, by no one in particular, that the perfect amount of food had been made.  I didn’t particularly care, but as you could read by how this story is going that I was still hungry.  I didn’t care because I have little patience for not being served enough food, and I got my keys to go out.

“Where are you going?” My Mother asked.  I told her I was going out to get a pizza.  This made her angry, and since it was a dream we started tossing containers of spices across the room.  They smashed and glass exploded everywhere. While I lived with my parents I had a history of hoarding food in my room.

I went to get my cats and leave.  My visit was over.

Two things to note:

*The same goes for a visit to my grandparents, or a “free meal” given by employers.  If I can’t eat my fill I would rather not be imposed by your food.  I feel that leaving for more food would be an insult to you, and I take it as an insult that you are wasting my time.

*I eat more than twice what the average person does in a sitting, and I eat the same in a sitting regardless of whether I eat a meal once every three days, or three times a day.  When I have been working out all bets are off.

I take my personal bias and do not make a big deal about it when food is offered.  They are trying to be nice, and I accept their efforts.  Not to mention culturally “free food” is highly accepted with gratitude, with me being the exception.  Dreams such as this are a constant reminder to be wary of visiting my parents.


Sex dreams / The Talk With Father


I’m going to first go over yesterday’s dream so that I can weed out the number of actual readers so they don’t know more about my family than my actual family knows. 😉

I was at a sex club / murder house that I and this girl had been abducted and brought to.  I say sex club because I was doing it with this amazingly beautiful girl and there was another couple next door who were as well.  (Never gone to a sex club irl).

We needed protection so we opened our door.  I knew that down the hall I had been working on building a secret room to hide in / use to escape from the guards.  (That’s how the murder house is involved?). There were doors down the hall on either side for a good distance which is not abnormal for dreams, conscious mental movies, or stories.

We made it to the room, but the guards heard the girl doing something on the counter.  I got her to stop making noise and bluffed the door waiting to see if they  would walk past.  They spoke and acted as though they did not hear anything out of the ordinary but one of them still came into the room.  It felt like my brother, but did not have the face of my brother.  (I have had dreams with people involved from to but with the faces of them too.). I wasn’t worried because I was invincible and could get shot by the gaurs and I’d be fi right, so I attacked him when he came in.  I didn’t have time to attack the second guard because apparently getting hit by the gun, even though it did not do much, woke me up since I had been asleep for a good period of time anyway.  I woke up with the best feeling ever, the feeling that has driven my dream journal.  The little things in life. 🙂

My sleep disorder finally doesn’t feel as bad anymore, and I don’t feel the need to sleep as much as I did before when I had days off. It’s one of the reasons why I eat, why I give an hour  a night to work out.  If I work out an hour, and get to sleep an hour less I win twice.


I was back at my parents, again, because apparently when I fall asleep I can not but help to have unresolved family issues.

I was in some random corner of the house, I don’t quite remember what I was doing there.  Something that they didn’t enjoy, and decided to confront me about. There’s always some conflict that requires me to say “nope, now I’m leaving” so I gather my things to leave.

Something about my little brother trying to open the door to let in a cat, and the space was mine, but under the parents ownership/influence?  I can’t quite explain…

My father came to talk to me.  This is strange because it is something he’s never really done.  I’ve never had a good sit down and talk about life kind of conversation with father – it is always him telling us he could have done things different, better.  We are not good enough for him.  Which is fine I guess I don’t quite care about making him proud.

I yelled at him for not protecting us from mother.  (I can’t tell when awake- so not a loud yelling but more of an angry punch in the face type of language.  Where the words do the damage the voice would have done.). For not having a hand in our lives, for not giving me a reason to live.  I could feel love for him, but I told him that it was too late for our relationship, and that I would not be able to ever forgive him and move on.  He actually wanted to try in my dream which is rather amusing.

The thought of going to a mental institute was kind, soothing.  I pulled down my shirt to show him the scars on my shoulder.  (I realize traditionally shirts are pulled up- in dream interpretation this is to indicate how the cuts were placed higher up to prevent detection.  While still being on the extremities since they damage so much better than the chest or stomach).

I had new cuts, ones that I was surprised to see.  Pulling down my sleeve further showed more cuts and scares that don’t actually exist- and should have in theory allowed me to go lucid.  But I was so focus on father that I must have not cared about lucid dreaming.

There was something else after that’s now gone. The dream wants to pull away.  I need to practice more.  But you could say I prefer to be busy and don’t like having the time to practice.

My battle with sugar, and how I cut it out of my diet!

I grew up eating a lot of sugar.  I drank a lot of milk, and a lot of soda.  There was even a period of time where I experimented with baking cookies where I would make a batch a day.  It only got worse when I turned 16 and started to travel around due to college.  I would eat pounds of candy at a time.  A dozen doughnuts.  I wouldn’t eat sugar for the taste but instead for the feel I would have in my stomach.  The sugar rush you could call it.  It would be painful, sure.  The sugar high would be accompanied with a sore stomach, and then after a while there would be the crash.

I was pretty bad at eating anyway so I didn’t notice any pains that were greater than normal.  I would eat a single meal a day, and there were times where I wouldn’t even eat that one meal.  I would crave sugar though.  When I was at the store looking at all the food in the isles my mout would water and I would need something sweet.  Like I said earlier: pound of candy, dozen doughnuts, something along those lines.

This was normal to me, and not something that I had done to myself because of my freedom.  It was the lifestyle that I been raised into.  I was used to ignoring the feeling associated with being hungry.  With growing up constantly ignoring them, feeling hungry would not make me want to eat.  In fact they would make it harder for me to eat.

A “slightly larger” mother who dieted and ate seperate meals designed to her combined with five children.  Meals were pushed off an hour at a time until there was only one large meal per day.  Even times were they was food in the fridge we were pressured to not eat because she was about to make us a meal.  My father has the same habit that I *used* to have.  He would come home and eat a meal after work, but does not eat much during the day. That is the present though, five to years ago he did the same, and I saw him do the same.  He would have boxes of snacks and sweets sitting around in his little cubicle.  Maybe he even does it to this day.

I would say that I didn’t really care about my eating habits until I had worked at my current job in Oregon for over a year.  They just didn’t matter.  I had more serious things to do with and I was healthy, alive.  It is the cravings that finally got to me, the loss of power that would happen after work and I would feel a disgusting pull to something sweet.  So one day I just went cold turkey.  The cravings stayed for about a month, and interestingly so did any ability I had to feel hungry.  In fact eating became gross, and every now and then I’d have to sit down and force myself to eat.  I didn’t quite realize how unhealthy this was until one day I noticed that I had not eaten for four days.  The longer I wouldn’t eat the harder it became to eat at all.

When I did eat I would feel bloated.  I wouldn’t have that smooth stomach that I wanted.  If eating half what you should and feeling fat for eating when you’re underweight aren’t signs of anorexia I don’t know what would qualify. (Developing anorexia, not being anorexic).

But I got a bit more pressure from life, and got an other sort of culture shock.  I began to eat small meals throughout the day, and built up the amount of food I could eat.  Then, a month ago, after having tried out rock climbing I joined two gyms.  Being able to tell myself that I don’t have to worry about adding on fat because I work out an hour a day has allowed me to eat as much as I want, and considering that I have cut out sweets and a large amount of snacks out of my diet the foods I eat consist of primarily vegetables, fruits, bread, and meat.

So now when people hear about what I eat they say that I’m one of the healthies people they know, but they don’t know.  I kind of feel bad for anyone who asks me for advice, and for people who might see the title and thing that it can help them out.  The only helpful advice I can give is quite simple.  Don’t look back, don’t give yourself days off.  It makes it all easier to not have it around, and to get in the habit of saying no always compared to only during specific times.  (The time difference between waking up and going cold turkey and joining the gym is approx. a year.)

Is Your Comfort Zone Holding You Back?

Some say that the biggest problem our generation faces is the dangers of falling into the comfort zone.  Simple, easy job tha doesn’t pay well, but pays enough.  Internet, TV, video games, enough entertainment to keep you entertained.  It’s not that there is less of a push to do more, achieve more – I think people are just less bored, and are pushed to succeed less as a generation.  Just surviving is accepted as an achievement, and if you’re just surviving you’re successful opposed to in the past generations where to succeed you had to have a high paying job.

*In a more personal note, a personal comfort zone is something that holds you down, and holds you away from what you’re capable of achieving.  A comfort zone can be extremely painful, and may include abusive boyfriends, girlfriends, parents, and other people.  You accept the situation similar, but not, to that of a stockholm’s syndrome.  You know how to deal with the pain, and even though it’s painful it’s familiar.  The familiarity is comfortable.  You hold onto the familiarity, you hold onto the comfort, and you’re afraid to change.  The unknown is what scares you to death, and keeps you holding onto your comfort zone.

When I moved to college I couldn’t leave my room for the first few days.  I was scared to death, I was hundreds of miles away from everything that I knew, my funding was reduced a week before college started, and I was all on my own.

Don’t get me wrong- my latest job was a step up. If I could stay for years, decades, then I might stay around while I keep myself entertained, and happy enough.  Even if the job was dull, boring, uninteresting, had zero chance of advancement, or challenge it would be comfortable. I would know I wanted more for myself, and might even work on doing that over time, but it would be comfortable to know I didn’t have to.  If the job was there to rely on, even if it’s full of drama and people you dislike, it gives a reason to place aside your aspirations and relax.  You’re constantly congradulated on surviving.  Just being able to hold any job is a big deal, and you’re not an overachiever so there’s no need to overachieve.  What you have is enough.

They’re Only Together Because Of Me

I wasn’t really home sick, I had homework projects that I had to get finished. I had been stressing out over the projects so much and for so long that my mother finally pronounced that I had to take the day off from school.

I wasn’t supposed to be home.  I wasn’t supposed to hear what my mother was saying on the phone.  Normally when she was having problems she would talk in her bedroom.  But she had forgotten that I was home.

My father was giving love poems and flowers to this girl at his work.  She was pretty in ways that he wished my mother was.  The way she was when he married her.  He wasn’t one to cheat so he had been telling my mother about this.  Like he was rubbing it in her face.

They went to weekly relationship counciling.  The female psychologist was on my father’s side.  Are you jelous of him having friends besides her?  She wasn’t happy that my father wouldn’t do nice things for her.  He didn’t make her love poems or buy her flowers.

The psychologist wanted her to stop taking her anti-depressents.  My father agreed with her, he thought that the meds were messing with her mind.  My mother did not want to stop taking the meds.  She was so close to just killing herself that she worried that if she stopped taking them she finally would.

She couldn’t leave him because he was financially supporting us (the five kids).  The church frowned on divorce, both sides of our family told her that divorce would mean she would go to hell.  She was trapped where she was.  And part of that was because of me.

Bible Study Post #14 (Numbers): Magick & Curses

Numbers 5:19

  • And the priest shall charge her by an oath, and say unto the woman, If no man have lain with thee and if thou hast not gone aside to uncleanness with another instead of thy husband, be thou free from this bitter water that causeth the curse

In Numbers it talks about a spell that the priest casts that determines if a woman has cheated on her husband.  The curse in itself isn’t important concerning the specifics although it is a bit sexist.

  1. The Old Testament is the history of Christianity that is believed to have happened, and therefore believing that the bible is the truth would also mean that you believe this curse existed.  And if this curse existed curses in general existed.
  2. You can argue that the curse used the power of God as its origin of power, and a good portion of older magick is based on a higher power.  Using the power of Gods, the Sun, the Moon, the Earth.

Does this mean being a Christian also mean that you believe in Magick?

How Labels Affect You

In my last dream journal (#7), I mentioned how the persona I was in the dream was cute dumb.  Being stupid was a part of the persona, and it affected how he/I behaved to quite a large extent.  He wanted to be seen as the cute person, adorable, and that person to him was also stupid.

The problem with this, as well as other labels, is holding him back from who he could be.  He likes his label, and doesn’t want to lose it.  In turn, he doesn’t come up with ideas on how he can accomplish tasks (get the map to the girl’s place in this situation).

Caring what other people think of him is also hurting him, but this self-label of his is much worse.  As a human when you age you have to change with the time as well.  I’m not saying that labels are bad (although they don’t help), but what I’m saying is that you have to be ready for change, and you have to think:

What labels do you have that are there to make you look like an idea, like something you want to be rather than yourself?  Because if you have labels like that I want to push you to think about how labels like that are paper thin, and make it harder for you to be yourself.