Wednesday, October 11, 2006

Where's the Grenade?

Ok, so, like, I'm a really active "sleeper", right? That means that I tend to roll around alot, wriggle, talk in my sleep, etc. I've always been like that, since I can remember. When I was a kid I used to like totally crack up in my sleep and I'd laugh so hard that I'd wake myself up, if I hadn't already woken the rest of the household up with my laughter, right? So, that's not really anything new. But, a couple days ago, my husband asked me to not watch anymore active shows or like the military channel at night, because I guess I pushed him the other night really hard, or maybe I even hit him, I can't remember what he said, cuz I was in total shock.

I knew it was only a matter of time, though. I mean, seriously, how could it not be, right? When you're that active in your sleep, and like my dreams are so totally vivid. Maybe it's the drugs. I dunno. Maybe they make the dreams more vivid, because like I totally feel like I'm right there in my dream and it's all really happening to me. So, I'm actually kind of shocked that I haven't totally busted his cap in my sleep before now and seriously, that's a major reason we don't have any big weapons in the house, or if we do, I have no clue where they'd be, cuz I do think my dh has a weapon of some kind, but I've never seen it and I don't know where he keeps it. And that's just fine with me.

This is actually a symptom of my PTSD, I think. Where I'll be dreaming and sometimes, well, ok, on a regular basis, really, since around January or February of this year, I have THE Nightmare. THE ONE that replays that moment in my head and I feel like I'm right there and it's all happening to me all over again. Only now, because I'm in a safe environment and have been for like the past nearly ten years, and becuase in my head I can be as strong as I want to be, well, I actually try really hard to fight back and defend myself. Well, ok, lemme take that back, too, though, because that's what I was doing until around January or February of this year. But, since then I haven't been fighting back in my dreams, not at all and that was really bothering me ALOT, becuase before that I'd be like getting all Lara Croft on his ass, you know?

Anyway, maybe that feistiness is returning, or like I said, maybe it's cuz they jsut upped the dosage on my pain killers that my dreams are just like going off the hook with reality. At least I'm sleeping again. For several months, well since February or March, I wasn't sleeping unless everyone was gone, out of the house. And even then, I wouldn't let myself sleep for very long. I was really scared of having THOSE dreams every fucking night. They're not at all pleasant.

But, anyway, back to present day: dh tells me no more action flicks late at night before bedtime. But, I'd already stopped that abotu two weeks ago or so, after they upped my PKs, because I was hoping I'd be able to sleep again and that maybe THE dream would go away and be replaced by something less horrifying. I'm not asking for a miracle here or anything. I mean, I know that my dreams are what other people would typically call nightmares, but hey, as long as they're not THE dream, I'm ok with that, basically. There are lots of nights, and dh saw a huge increase in these kinds of dreams since last spring (he doesn't know it, but it's cuz THE Dream was back, but I don't talk about THAT), that I'll start sobbing and crying, or screaming or trying to get away and I curl into an invisible shrinking ball. But, he will wake me up and comfort me and then I stop crying and can go back to sleep if he holds me. If he holds me, I sometimes don't even have THE Dream. After 10 years of marriage, I just discovered this about a month ago. But, I mean, the guy's like a living furnace and there's no way it would be comfortable for him to do that every night. And, it's not very comfortable for me, either, because of my pain issues. Still, if I'm desperate, I know what I need to do and I'll ask him to hold me, if I wake up and am thinking of it.

So, here we are, right? And I guess I'm having this major dream and I couldn't remember it when he was telling me about it, but I think I remember part of it now. Anyway, he said that I was pushing him really ahrd (and, like I said, maybe I hit him, I can't remember, but if I did it wasn't hard enough to make a big deal out of it, because if he had, I'd definitely remember that) and telling him that I was looking for a grenade! lmao! Ok, sorry, I had to laught. That is so freakin' hilarious. a grenade in the bed? Man, I've heard it called alot of things, but that's gotta be a new one. lol

Now, what I remember of my dream is that the Bad Guy, (not THE BAD GUY, just a random bad guy, but still a very bad bad guy), discovered me and was threatening to kill me. He was going to execute me. That was a given. The only question was when? Before or after he tortured me? Before or after he beat the crap outta me? But he didn't know that there were other people in the house with me. But I knew. I knew that the man I loved and my child and maybe there were others were in the house and I knew that they weren't well hidden. I knew that my dh was standing almost directly behind me in the dark and I knew that he wanted to come out and try to protect me by standing between me and that big ass room-broom in the Bad Guy's hands. I couldn't let that happen to him. I had to protect him. He's had a good life. My daughter's had a good life. Everyone I know has had a good life so far, for the most part. I couldn't let him ruin that. So, I was pushing him back, telling him to get back, because the bad guy didn't know he was there, yet. If he'd just listen to me for ONCE and do what I was begging him to do, stay hidden, stay out of sight, don't let him see you. Then, he put his hand on my shoulder and was trying to pull me out of the line of fire. So, I swiped his hand away as quick as I could so the bad guy wouldn't notice, but it was too late, he saw. And that's when I saw it, he had a grenade in his hand and he pulled the pin. Guess he dropped the room-broom or something. Anyway, he pulled the pin and tossed it into another dark corner.

Darnit, honey? Why can't that man ever listen to me? Why won't he do what I ask him to, just once, without needed some long drawn out explanation or some big long statement with facts and references to back up my opinion on a thing? why can't he just scoot away and get the hell outta dodge, take the kid with him, when I ask him to? I was thoroughly pissed off, but I didn't have time to yell at him, which is what I really wanted to do, because I had to find that damn grenade and get rid of it, before it turned all of us into birdseed. So, now, I'm tellign him to get out, to go away and get out of here, take the kid with you, because I have to find this stupid grenade and try to get the pin back into it before it went off and we had a whole 30 seconds to accomplish this in. But, did he listen to me? Well, what do you think.

Exactly. . . . Boom!

(Tune in next time for the rest of the story)

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