The day before the stress returns
The only thing I know how to do when I’m messed up inside is analyze. I search the corners of the places I usually avoid until a compulsive surge takes over and I plummet to a new, quieter place where these things don’t bother me so much anymore. I feel inside like retreating to dreams…to that other life where, if nothing else, I’m scrambling with fear and worry; racing ahead to get-it-done and get-away … to run and hide. Or escape … I try to get away from it all so I can just fucking exhale and let my body stop shaking with fear. It’s rampant in me, right now, just describing it.
These last nights in dreams I am scrambling around trying to clean up as much evidence of my existence as I can before it’s too late. The places I visit are in complete disarray and I try to grab at bits of things…a piece of mail with my personal info on it; a medication bottle with the words ANTIPSYCHOTIC looming huge in glowing letters. The things I need to hide, I guess.
There is a desperate need to get things finished. I charge from place to place, every obstacle in my way you can imagine, from monsters who live beneath stair cases to men who catch, hold and torture me for fun in ways I never wanted to know I could imagine. It’s so tiring … Which is an odd thing to say about a dream, but when I am dreaming of these fearful things my heart goes through the ringer. I wake feeling the pain while understanding it was “just a dream”. My logic is sound there but sometimes, my heart simply does not agree.
Gah. These stupid dreams. They are just my mind spinning off random fears and anxiety the moment my conscious self slips out of control. I can’t ignore them because they happen every time I sleep. They’ve been relentless since Sara died … I’m failing her in every way I can imagine inside my brain and I can’t make it stop. I can’t even avoid it…I’m so tired, all I can do is sleep.
My bones hurt today to match my heart. There is a symmetry to it that makes it more tolerable than usual. I feel like I’m hurting for a reason, at least.
We are all prepping for the return to work and school here…I’m not looking forward to it, much like Colt. He has spent these last days digging his heels in and making absolutely every step of his day as friction filled as possible. He doesn’t want to go back to school. Really doesn’t…to the point of outbursts and teary fits. I have to fix this for him somehow and I’m not ready yet but… Life. I am stressed about going back to my insanely busy job tomorrow and to the phone calls and and and… I have to go see my family doc for my blood results (betcha all will be normal as always) and we are going to talk about options on the excessive sleeping and pain levels.
And that’s about all I can get to before I realize that Sara is gone and it all falls in on me again.
I want to sleep. I’m so tired. I don’t want to dream though, of anything. I want to black out coma sleep. Is there a drug for that? 😦