The Nightmare

I think my stress is starting to come out in my dreams. I've not had a haunting in a while, but the other night has left me with feelings of unease that I'm having trouble shaking. Barb has been going almost 4 years now. From time to time I've seen her passing in dreams, but nothing like this. It was so real that I'm having trouble wrapping my head around it and what it all means. It was one of those dream states where you know you're dreaming. I'm sitting on the couch with Uggie just watching something on the laptop when the front door opens up and in walks Barb. She's dressed in her favourite blew housecoat with matching robe and slippers. It's like she's just come back from a trip to the hospital like all the other time before I moved her into full home hospice care. She looked at me and asked where her favourite chair was. I didn't answer. I woke up, dripping with sweat. It felt so real. It's a scene that had played out many times before. Ralph would take her and on a rare occasion I wouldn't go along, and when she came home she always came in looking to relax in her favourite chair. They say men get attatched to their recliners, but those guys had nothing on my nan. The creepiest part? When I sat up and looked around in the darkness, it felt like I wasn't alone; It felt like someone was watching me. Is there something she's trying to tell me? I think the reason that it's so haunting is because it's something that I'd experienced before. Before all the sickness, before the upset. When it was just regular care and companionship they were wanting from me. Part of me thinks that I've had no time to grieve. I went from her passing to moving right into Ralph's critical care and then to have him fall and die on me. That moved into will proceedings, fights, trasnfers of property and full time outside the home work. I've just been going non-stop since they died. Two more tours, working full time in normal jobs. Maybe she's upset that I'm redoing her home. The one she and Ralph built together. I know she loved the house. I'm not gutting the thing, but it's probably enough to upset her. I wish I could talk to her. I don't believe in Heaven. I believe that we cycle through life in different forms endlessly. I think its a constant circle of life, our consciousness being swapped from vessel to vessel. Maybe she's waiting for a new vessel and is hanging around here in the meantime. Or she's mad about the blood stains that I got out of the carpet. Maybe she sees my depression as a form of neglecting the house when I let things go a few days because all I want to is lay down. I'm wrapped up in suicidal thoughts, even though I know I want to live and do various things. I hate living like this. I'm always constantly drained. That being said I've decided to take in some mueseums next week to try and clear my head. Going to enjoy one of my days off by heading to Hartford to check out some dinosaur exhibits and some art. I think going away is just what I need. Take my mind off the haunting and my recent lab results that are a bit troubling. Until next time.