Finished my essay, and it's posted. You folks will have to tell me what you think;
https://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/fiction/84629/origins-1

Here is a story challenge: A student (any age), upon returning to the classroom, is given the assignment to write about what they did while on social distancing.

So what does the student write?

Okay, so last night I had a pretty strange dream. In the the dream, I was at a house with a bunch of other people, when a man came in with a huge trunk. He opened the trunk, and furniture popped out - and creatures I can only describe as shadow-spiders, basically a ball of darkness with little tendrils that it used like legs.

I backed up, and said, "I'm afraid of those shadow-things."

As if attracted by the sound of my voice, one of the shadow-spiders leaped towards me, with shadow fangs ready to strike.

I got a new story up. Hope you guys like it: https://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/fiction/84436/coven-encounter

So last night, I got to thinking about a conversation I had a few days ago, where I mentioned I always found kissing someone on the lips upsetting. And in fact I used to say I'd rather kiss or be kissed anywhere but the lips. As I was mulling this over, it occurred to me that this sense of panic reminded me of the panic I got going into a shower, and I wondered if it has a similar cause - that at some point, a kiss on the lips got associated with something terrible, something I couldnt recall consciously recall but my body responded to.

Well, yesterday ended up going better than I could have hoped. Sharon and Sam cried after Po was put down, but Sam was no longer angry, and indeed seemed to be at peace with his passing. I am thanking God and breathing a sigh of relief.

Dysphoria, manic-depression, PTSD, grief, and anxiety. I'm getting hit by all of the above, plus one more. Guilt. Guilt that I'm struggling with petty problems while people are dying from this virus.

Sighs ...

So last night I dreamed I was at a church function. I was upstairs, cleaning up a bunch of toy trucks, and then went downstairs to see that all the girls had turned the dining area into a fancy tea party. My dysphoria hit me like a physical blow, and I dumped my load of toy trucks on a counter and staggered back upstairs. I woke weeping.

After I published my last little piece, I was informed I've been mislabeling them as "drabbles". I always thought a drabble was 100 words or less, apparently its 100 words exactly. So what do I do about the section of my stories titled "Dorothy's Drabbles"?

Suggestions please.

In hopes of providing a giggle in these dark times, I've come up with a little drabble:
https://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/fiction/84020/transformation-...

So last night I dreamed a pretty interesting dream. It started with me seemingly on board a space station desperately trying to prevent an explosion that would kill everyone on board. But then I was sitting in a movie theater, watching me save the day. I left the theater, and encountered a small girl dressed as my character. She recognized me, and I gave her an autograph.

Kinda neat, no?

Well, we are all breathing a sigh of relief. Samantha does not have the Corona virus, so we've all dodged a bullet.

Huggles for everybody!

At approximately 2:30 pm Mountain time, our furry companion, Little Lady, passed from this world.

Here is how I feel: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AUeuODPofpo

As I spend my last weekend with my dog, its starting to bug me that I cant seem to cry.

we've had her for 15 years, and I love this silly fluff-ball.

But somehow I cant seem to actually cry.

What's wrong with me?

on long running TV shows, I think once a year the actors should switch roles. Have the guys play the female characters and the women play the male roles. And play it totally straight like nothing's different.

so last night I dreamed that during a marathon that I was participating in I saw a large snake about to get among the runners, I was able to capture the snake holding it just behind the head. And with barriers on both sides of the course, I felt I had no choice but to finish the course while keeping a hold on the critter.

Bizarre, yes?

Last night, I had a dream full of failure and frustration. First I was in a large group being assigned with building something from Leggo and I struggled to find pieces, and my finished product looked sad compared to the others. Then we cleared off the leggo and we were supposed to learn a dance, but I couldnt see the feet of the instructor, so couldnt march her steps. And even when I had one on one instruction, I couldnt seem to explain what my problem was.

sighs ...

I had a dream last night where I was part of a group of people looking for clues in a contest where the top prize was 1 million dollars. At one point we were taking a food break, and I managed to impress a girl with my musical taste. She then gave me a box of stuff she'd collected while looking for clues, and we talked about how I'd get SRS if I won the million. Sadly I didnt find the million, but I seemed to have found a friend.

My little dog's health is going downhill, and my mom is super stressing about how far we let things go before we say goodbye to the little fuzzball.

I'm doing what I can to help, but this is putting serious pressure on my spoon count.

Okay, so I'm kinda scared. See, this morning, while I was in a kind of half-sleep/half awake state, I felt a jolt of energy in my head, and my body twiched and trashed. Only lasted a couple of seconds. But about a minute later it happened again. I had maybe four, maybe five of these events, and then it just stopped.

Needless to say, Monday Morning I have to get a hold of my doctor, and see if they can figure out what happened.

In the meantime, hugs, prayers, and good wishes appreciated.

One of the most frustrating aspects of my life is my struggle with personal care tasks. It seems like I have a hard limit on the spoons I can spend on them, which means even on good days I'm having to choose which ones I can attempt and which ones I can't. So its like I could shower, but then I wont be able to shave. If I shave, I wont be able to brush my teeth, or stuff like that. All of the above assumes a good day, as things are even worse if I'm depressed, sick, or fighting with my PTSD.

As I said, this is frustrating, but I cant seem to find an answer to the problem.

You may have heard of the term "Stockholm syndrome".

It really can happen, especially to children who grow up in abusive households. When you are dependent on your abuser, when they are the person who is supposed to take care of you and they hurt you, it is very easy to come to believe they are right to hurt you. That you deserve what they do to you.

I think one of the reasons I've been struggling with my writing lately is that I'm facing a difficult choice which is taking up most of my attention. See, I'm at a point that I have to say yes or no to stomach surgery, and I'm having a great deal of difficulty in deciding. Either choice will have ramifications for me for possibly the rest of my life, and I just dont know what to do.

Ah, well.