So I woke up from a nightmare to a happy dog. It's better that way.
In the dream I think we were somehow living at West Point again. I heard cannons going off and didn't think much of it since cannons go off periodically. The wife and I were talking in the house with guests and both girls were home. I said something that sort of reflected a bunker mentality and that set off some sort of argument. So I went outside.
And I noticed that the cannon fire was occurring fairly regularly. And then I noticed that shells were actually landing nearby and doing damage to trees and structures. Several in a row. Long smoke tails arching behind them. And somehow I turned and had visibility of the Plain and saw cannons going off and firing directly at the old buildings and barracks and now, instead of the metal hunks landing nearby, they were actually firing exploding shells and doing significant damage.
And then I realized we were actually under attack and went back in the house trying to decide whether to tell the wife we needed to pack for a week or three days. All the thoughts of being a refugee started flooding my head and the logistics were flying and I was trying to decide how to keep everybody calm while still getting them to run really fast.
And then the hound wanted to be petted.
It has been that kind of week. So much cannon fire that it seems like it is routine until the dim awareness grows into clarity and you realize they are firing at you. But I don't get to run. First I need to find a cannon and then return fire. Counterattack. And then I need to find a way to win a war that will never end with battles on 293 fronts at once. And we won't even talk about the financial disasters I battle every month.
I had a nightmare on Wednesday that I came home from work and the wife had died in our bed. And that completely shredded me. I am overwhelmed sometimes by how much I love her and need her. It seems during life's routine moments that things are not that intense but I cannot imagine I would survive without her. She has become so completely the most important person in my life it is like her existence sustains mine in a way that is so complete that removing her takes away something so essential that my system simply could not function like it had no air. I'm not even aware of how connected we are sometimes because it feels so natural to be connected to her.
And then, with that on my mind, I come home to deal with the kid's little parachute jump and that rattled me to my core. I was shaking I was so upset and I knew it was ridiculous and way out of proportion but all I could see when I heard about it was Viet Cong killing my father. I had a full blown panic attack and had to maintain the impression that I was just mad. When everyone else watched the video and I could hear them laughing and enjoying it, I was doing everything I could to fight the fight or flight terrors. I literally turned red and my chest was in such pain I was checking my rapidly accelerating pulse. I had three nights of that kind of excruciating pain this week. And I couldn't possibly share that much weakness so I just passed it off as really hating recreational jumping (which I do)...when I started trying to explain it to the wife it just sounded like "I am so weak and undeserving of being the man around here." so I stopped talking.
It's funny how over time it has come to me that no one really wants to know all the stuff in my head. I wish I had been clearer on that earlier in my life. I start to say things, to write things that are what I really think or what I really feel and I know that it doesn't matter and it would either be weird or upsetting to others so I just say the right things or backspace and type something else.
I indulge the black dog to keep me on edge and to vent a little of the emotions that have no other path. I am playing Full of Grace constantly again.
But I remain indomitable. I will not yield to this and I will not lose.
Despite that a nap would be nice. And some assets. Anyone have a fire cloak?
