Baby, It's Cold Outside... I Wish...

I had a dream that Moma was still alive. I woke up and for a moment, I still believed it, and I was so relieved.  That meant that the last year had been a terrible nightmare.  Then I woke up, for real. 

I still have that same sort of vague, floaty mentality I've always had.  Will that ever change?  It's so much easier to float than it is to hurt.  When group therapy and the shrinks pinpointed me to a tee, it totally freaked me out.  How'd they do that?  How'd they know all that about me?

I wonder if anyone else gets tired of being who they are all the time... I wonder if anyone thinks I'm a big fake...or is that what everyone thinks?