Monday, July 27, 2009

Truth really is stranger than fiction

The nightmares are back. And so, as should follow is the insomnia. New twist tonight: Hubs woke up and yelled "stopped shaking the bed" (waking a wailing whimpering me, which he did not notice as he went back to dreamland.) So, I finally was getting some unpleasant, but actual sleep and he woke me to tell me to stop hitting the bed. Hubs is not a light sleeper so I gather I must have been doing a number on it. This is bad from the perspective of I can already feel the increase in pain in my bad wrist ( and that's after taking 2 percocet) and from the wifely perspective of, "but, he's the big, protective man, he should have awakened, held me and soothed me until the tears stopped." The sad thing here is when he gets up, the odds (and I'm not a betting woman) are he won't remember our altercation during the night or that he left a blubbering, broken woman crying in bed.

But not crying for long because I got to that point of "I can't stand to sleep next to someone who is that insensitive to my obvious emotional distress." at which time I got out of bed took a long hot bubble bath, did a facial, started a manicure, did the deep conditioner thing a facial peel moisturized, the whole 9 yards and then picked up my laptop and a bottle of water and moved to our never, ever used office with it's comfy lazy boy chair. Where I am now working, with a brief brake to post this.

See, everyone has bad dreams. I'm aware of that. My bad dreams fall somewhere more toward well...things we'd like to think aren't real life. Except, I can say from personal, lengthy experience, it's real. And it's a scary world out there.

My bad dreams tend to fall in the categories of violent deaths for anyone I love, and sometimes myself, all preventable if only I'd done the right thing to avoid the crazy persons' wrath.* Sidenote: It's virtually impossible to do the right thing thing to avoid a crazy person's wrath. Typically they center on my greatest fear from my entire life: her killing my mother. A mute point since my beloved mother succumbed to cancer nearly 3 years ago, and yet the night mares still come.

And 2 percocet later and the pain in my wrsit is only geting worse not better which is to be expected if you have a nerve disease and start beating things up--even a bed. But, um, oweeeeeee. And another night of no sleep saddens me because on a good night *thanks to the pain disease* I sleep maybe 3 hours. Tonight we're down to 10 minutes. I'm cranky already.

*Disclaimer: Before you start thinking ME the crazy person let me say that more than my psychotherapist upon hearing the bare bones version of the history here has told me 3 things, not in the same order 1)True Sociopaths and psychopaths are rare and my tormenter is one. 2) Getting my affairs in order would be a wise idea since it's not improbably she might succeed in killing me one of thse times. 3) I should leave key pieces of information in various "safe" locations to be handed over to the authorities in case of #2 to strengthen the case. Um, wait, are ANY of those things you want to hear when you go to the doctor? No? Me either. K, so I think you know we can say maybe I have some reasons for nightmares.

On a momentarily lighter note, a friend of mine who know, a lot of the story thinks I should right a book about this woman and that fact that for good or bad that I am, against all odds, still alive. What do you think internet? Is insomnia a good enough reason?