My poor, neglected blog.

My good friend and fellow blogger has been on my ass to write something. I told him that I haven’t been able to think of anything to write about. I told him that I haven’t *needed* to write lately. Things have been going relatively well. I haven’t had any big questions to pose or anything to work out by putting, only in the loosest sense, pen to paper.

So why am I writing now? Now, 3:38 on a Sunday morning. What has prompted me to sit in a darkened living room, pecking out nonsense on the glowing screen of my iPhone? One word: nightmare.

One of those gut wrenching, cold sweat inducing, still shaking, terrifying dreams that wakes you out of a sound sleep. One that makes you sit straight up in bed, a shout still in your throat. One that causes such intense dread in the pit of your stomach that you feel like you might throw up the eggs, hash browns, and pumpkin pancakes you had 4 hours ago at IHOP.

The worst thing about this particular dream is that I don’t remember it. I don’t remember a single thing about it. As I sit here, huddled in a blanket with a cat to my right and a dog to my left, near tears, I just can’t remember anything about what has shaken me to my core. I feel like, if I could just remember, maybe I could work it out in my head. I could attempt to interpret the dream and maybe ease this paralyzing fear.

But I can’t.

Instead I sit here, tears flowing, and try to do what I would do for one of my children. I try to convince myself that it was just a dream. A harmless dream. I try to convince myself that everything will be fine again in the light of day. Which, at this moment, seems a long way off.




~ by midlifecrisisfun on November 27, 2011.

One Response to “Nightmare”

  1. We do so love when you put, in the loosest sense, pen to paper.

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