Chaos Dreams

First, and foremost, I want to wish my sweet man, my sweet Robyn a Happy 70th Birthday. You should be here to enjoy your rib steak and German Chocolate cake today. I miss you and love you more than anybody can ever imagine. My heart is and always will be in a billion little pieces. I love you, my Baby.

Chaos dreams…don’t they sound fun?

They are really not.

I don’t know if they have an actual name. It’s what I call them. Nightmares where I am in the middle of some crisis, and I can’t find Robyn to save him or get him to help me with the crisis.

I went thru a spat of them shortly after he crossed over. They are back again now.

And increasing over the past two weeks.

I don’t know if it has to do with the winding down of the worst part of the year for me. That ranges from the beginning of October thru today, January 13th. It’s the time when the put Rob on a vent, to him crossing, then our wedding anniversary, Samhain, Thanksgiving, Yule, New Years, and his birthday. All that in a bit less than 4 months.

Maybe it has to do with the run of “busted stuff” that has been happening here. It seems to run in spats, and I hope I’m out of that for now.

The dreams range from broken down truck and him not answering the phone, to house on fire and I can’t find him to get him out of the house, to trees falling on fence lines, to tractor not starting, to wild animals attacking the stock.

I spend the dream trying to fix the problem, find him to help me fix the problem, find him to save his life from whatever the problem is, and it’s terrifying.

I never find him.

The main theme seems to be not being able to find him when I need him.

I wake up from these in tears, and mad as hell that he is not where he should be.

Honestly, he is not where he should be, and that’s here, right next to me, holding my hand, and kissing me good morning. These dreams keep hammering it in that he is not here.

And I hate them. I hate the terror I feel in them. I hate that he is gone. I hate that he is not here for me to love. I hate that he is not here to help me. I hate it all

I hate it all.

I know this is my subconscious working itself out. I know it’s working out the stress and anxiety I’m going thru. But damn it, can’t it find a better way than creating terror every fucking night?

I don’t want to go to sleep now. The sleep I am getting is not good. I’m lucky to get an hour or two before the dreams kick in then I’m up for the rest of the night. I watch a lot of tv.

My pupper dog has even changed how he sleeps with me now. He has his body stretched out against me with his face up by mine. He used to sleep in a ball at the foot of the bed. He knows something isn’t right.

I hate it all.