Archive for April 9th, 2010

No wonder I am so exhausted even after getting nine hours of sleep! If last night’s dreams are any indication of what I typically dream in a night, it is a wonder that I ever get any rest.

First, let me set the stage – We had a bad storm come through that knocked out our power right at my son’s bedtime. He was scared, so I took some Melatonin, climbed into bed, and tried to go to bed early so I could get up early to work. Of course, my son is back on his ADHD medication that gives him insomnia, so he was driving me nuts. He woke me up at least 10 times before I kicked him out of my room. Also, with no power, I could not generate any white noise, so I was on high alert for every sound in the room. I believe this is what caused this particular brand of nightmare – my extreme terror of being awakened in the middle of the night and hurt.

In the dream, we were living in the townhouse I used to live in when I was in graduate school. It was a repeat of what really happened – my son wouldn’t sleep, and he kept waking me up. I got angry and left to take a brief walk around the block to clear my head. The road I was walking kept getting narrower, and angry people kept telling me to turn back. A train arrived, and it was going to be photographed for some historic purpose. I wound up getting stuck in the photograph because, on this narrow road, there was nowhere else to go.

I then walked home later than I planned, passing my neighbor who was sitting on his townhouse steps drinking beer. The power was still out. He handed me two coupons for free beer and said, “My favorite kind of beer.” His voice was flat with no emotion.

I went to my bedroom and tried to sleep again. Hub came to the door and opened it, which set off my adrenaline again. (Every time I hear a noise, particularly a door, when I am sleeping, it feels like someone gave me a shot of adrenaline.) He kept debating whether to come in or not, which just kept sending more surges of adrenaline as I pretended to be asleep (just like I did when I was a little girl). He finally decided to come into my room and confront me about leaving our son in the townhouse while I went for a walk.

Something about him entering the room heightened my terror, and I started vomiting all over the floor. Hub ignored this and started berating me. I looked back at him and said something about him not even noticing that I am not doing well. He yelled louder, which set off another round of my vomiting. I then turned to him and screamed at him at the top of my lungs. I yelled, “You need to hear me! Why don’t you ever listen to me!” I stormed out of the room, stormed back, and yelled, “Maybe it’s time I use the ‘D’ word [divorce].” Hub got angry and yelled at me, saying it was never okay to say that. I yelled back, “I can say it if I want to. Maybe you will hear me now!”

I ran to my bathroom (the one that I have now) and kept vomiting. Hub came in after me holding a cord stretched out between his hands with his wedding band dangling on the middle of the cord. He tried to wrap it around my neck to choke me, saying that there would be no divorce. (Hub is not violent and would never do anything like this.) I fought back. That’s all I remember.

Photo credit: Lynda Bernhardt

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