I sometimes feel like I’m not very good at this whole day-to-day life thing. It just feels like my process for living is just not all that compatible with the rest of the world’s population. Or maybe I’m just totally thrown off-kilter today because of the horrifically bad nightmare I had early this morning that I just can’t quite get away from.

It wasn’t one of those dreams where you wake up screaming or sweating or even bolt straight upright in bed. I just simply opened my eyes but the images were so vivid and so awful that they still flowed in front of my eyes. And I realized that I was awake and it was indeed just a dream and when I tried to go back to sleep the dream just kept going, in my waking mind. Going back over the worst parts again and again. I dreamt that The Boy was killed in a truly frightening way. And I was there, watching the whole thing. And the two points that stuck out the most was the sheer quantity of blood and the absolute feeling of desolation after I knew, in my dream, that he was gone forever.

I haven’t had a dream like this since I was pregnant with The Girl. That’s actually usually the only time I ever have dreams like this is when I’m pregnant, but since that is definitely not the case right now I’m going to have to chalk it up to stress and my subconscious wanting to supplement my waking stress with some dreaming stress.

When the kids came in to wake us up, The Boy crawled in next to me and I immediately started crying. Am still crying looking at him now as he’s playing superheroes with The Girl on the floor with NFL Countdown on in the background. I just can’t quite seem to shrug off the sorrow of this dream.

Which is really screwing with my plan for today to bring myself back from the solitude seeking, brain candy book immersed, disengaged place that I’ve been in for the last several days. This dream makes me want to crawl right back in with renewed commitment.

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