Bird Dream

This may be a mental process that is unique to me, but I feel like I need to come to a crisis. I am still up and at the computer at 12:58 a.m. That may not sound so late, but I know I will have trouble forcing myself to get up in the morning. I am pretty wired and it will be an hour or more before I can settle into sleep. This morning I let the alarm--tuned to talk radio--run out its hour and I remained in bed. Then I had a dream that woke me to tears. It included the demise of a pet bird--death by reckless treatment at the hands of a member of my family. My thought process did not improve upon waking. I ruminated over resentments, a total waste of time and effort. Something is going on and I cannot recognize what I need to do to get through the current mood. I am staying busy. I plan at least a couple tasks/errands each day and I am reading two books, a mystery and a drawing instruction book. That last involves exercises with pencil and paper that I am enjoying. I fear my current state is one of those situations I will not understand until I have weathered the storm. Why can I not step outside of myself and observe? If a friend were having these difficulties, I would probably be able to offer advice. Now that I write this, I realize that my reaction to the dream was not so much sadness over the bird's death but it was rather my frustration that someone in the dream did not understand my being upset.
So, are birds symbolic? Should I be perusing Jung?

Karma?

What exactly was I thinking when I began this blog? I want to be at least a little into the 21st century. I like to write for cathartic reasons. Two of my daughters have blogs. I need one more thing to hang over my head so I can feel uneasy about not getting to it. Maybe I could show off what a swell writer I can be. Is at least one of those a good reason? HMMMMM.
Recovery from knee replacement sucks. Pain fools you and your mind can go to places it probably shouldn't. I have done a lot of thinking about death and about how alone I am in the universe although I have a husband, four children and their spouses or significant others, four grandchildren, various aunts and uncles and cousins, and at least a hand full of friends. Funny thing about pain that keeps you from sleeping is that none of those warm beings bring comfort because they are either not present or irritatingly asleep and thus removed. Self pity, on the other hand, is omnipresent at 3 a.m.
Most of the major experiences, as well as a few minor ones, in my life have come with LESSON written all over them. Whose pain have I not comforted? To whom have I shown impatience rather than sympathy or empathy? The person who leaps to mind is my mom. I cannot fix that now--she is over 10 years dead. Maybe this is what karma means. I get to experience some of the pain I did not acknowledge. I have to deal with my own and it makes me realize I could have been better with her. And now I want to fix it but cannot. Maybe I can reach out to someone else. I will have to be wary. People have reached out to me but I have not trusted enough to believe their sincerity. More family of origin issues.
As I write this, tears well up in my eyes. Some of that is fatigue and some of it is allowing myself to feel.

Sleepy

I am at about stage three of exhaustion. That's when I become what I refer to as "honest." Friends and relatives have pointed out that "cruel" or "nasty" might be more appropriate. I will be making some offhand comment like, "This bitch who sits in the last row in class had the audacity to say. . ." and I catch myself. Whomever I was addressing either has assumed an expression of horror or just stopped listening.
I really need sleep. Most other deprivations do not phase me, but lack of sleep drives me crazy, or should I say crazier? But here I am at 10:30 at night finding so many ways to occupy my time.