Dream Theater: The College and the Baby

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I was dreaming that I was moving into my college dorm room, only I had a baby that I had to trust to a stranger while I went and enrolled and got settled. The college was a maze, an older institution with older buildings and older furnishings, and I kept getting lost. Finally I got settled in but then didn’t know where I had left my baby. I remember being in a panic about where she might be, and I started searching the campus. I took the time to stop at a Texas roadhouse-style restaurant to eat (prime rib, which was huge and cheap) and then went back to looking for her. I finally found her in a hospital – again, an older facility with older medical principles and customs in place – but she was safe and sound and doing well. I remember being happy that we were together, even though the future was completely uncertain, before waking up.

I’m usually not much one for analyzing dreams, but it’s difficult to not correlate this to the situation I found myself in regarding my daughter for most of her life. When I was made aware of her existence at age four, I tried to take responsibility for my part in raising her, but was politely told that her mother wanted to do it on her own, so I stepped out of the picture. I was always curious what became of her, and finally I looked her up on the internet and eventually contacted her. We’ve since started a relationship that exceeded my wildest expectations when I first contacted her, and I couldn’t be happier.

I’m also not much one for remembering my dreams, so the fact that this one stuck is unusual.

Disclosure: I woke up from the dream at 5:30 am to write down the dream part of this, then went back to sleep until just a few minutes ago.

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Progress is Progressing

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I saw my therapist today.

We had a good session. I mentioned that I completed last session’s homework and that it worked well, and we agreed that the next step is for the tool in question to be self-implemented, and done so earlier than my wife implemented it over the previous week.

We discussed my back problems, my relationship with Mom, my relationship with my daughter (okay, so, it was more like ten solid minutes of me openly and unashamedly bragging about her, but still, she was a topic of discussion), and my relationship with my new fitness log, the one my therapist turned me onto two sessions ago.

With the change in schedule, I’m finding that it’s becoming easier and easier to justify a fourth meal late at night, and that’s been blowing my caloric intake every day since the change. I’ve gained a couple pounds back, and so this week’s homework is to find a way to get that caloric intake back on track. I’m noticing that while I can easily skip items on my checklist and not have it affect me greatly, missing that calorie target really gets me down, and subsequent days I miss the mark exacerbate that situation.

We also set our first goal for therapy, which is related. My goal is to lose 15 pounds by Labor Day weekend. That’s a little over a pound a week, which I think is doable.

I also shared this blog with my therapist, so everyone behave and look busy. I have appearances to keep up now. (So kidding. I’m not going to start editing things now, though I won’t be going into a lot of detail about my therapy sessions as a general rule, only when the details are important for me to remember as time goes on. You might notice the new category for therapy posts as well. The Beatles theme continues.)