Unseen Forces In Bed

A strange has been happening each night for the past few weeks.  My bed has been taken over by an unseen force.  No I’m not talking about Beloved’s “bubble zone” that allows him more personal space.

Pit appears that a rather large yet unseen entity takes over the bed around midnight.  It starts by making its presence known in the middle of the bed and it slowly pushes us both out to our respective sides of the bed.  When we go to look, the only thing in the Center of the bed is the four-footed one.  And it can’t be her because she’s curled up in a small little bundle, eyes closed and settled in for her sleep.

Once we shut off the lights again and just start drifting off to sleep this entity is back pushing and clawing at each of us as it demands more space.  Frankly we have been stumped as to what was going on so Beloved set up a camera to record what was happening.  Unfortunately the footage wasn’t ideal for us to see the middle of the bed.

Plan B was for one of us to stay awake and watch from elsewhere in the room.  The one of us who stayed awake was me, in a chair at the window.  I couldn’t sleep anyway with the pain I was experiencing, but it wasn’t enough to take my medications.  I tell you this because I want you to know that I was not under the influence of anything.

You see dear friends the strange thing happening on our bed each night turns out to be a small little dog.  Yes it is in fact our four-footed one.  You’d almost think that at night she magical turns into the size and weight of a small pony while during the day she is a small-sized dog.  When we move or sit up she curls up in the center and pretends to be sleeping.  This dog is able to command most of the space on a king sized bed each night as a way of ensuring she has a good nights rest while we struggle to stay in our own bed!

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Brain Power or My Night Routine

It isn’t the stuff that goes bump in the night that keeps me awake.  Sure a loud bump might wake me up, but it won’t prevent me from getting some sleep.  Unfortunately my overactive mind is a slightly different story.

Without fail, as I crawl into bed and try to find the right spot to sleep, my mind is waiting.  It waits until that moment when you are almost a sleep before kicking into high gear.  And then it is relentless with curiosity, questions and worst case scenarios.  Because that’s the way my mind rolls apparently, around in my skull.

I am utterly exhausted and need to sleep,  up my mind simply cannot allow this to happen.  Oh no, sleep can’t come easy, not even once.  We must play the game of coming up with the “engaging” thoughts to keep me “actively interested”.  Sleep?  Sleep is apparently for wimps.  Or at least not for me.

The latest rendition of the game that is currently visiting me each time I want to sleep is a bit of a guilt and horror combination.  See I was telling someone how I’m not a fan of spiders.  Neither is Beloved.  But I don’t want my fear to bring to a place where I feel it is justified to kill the spiders I find in my house.  So I try the capture and release into the great outdoors approach.  Only this person told me the spiders I find in the house are basically designed for house living.  By putting them outside I’m sentencing the spider to a horrible death.  A death from the elements or birds or some other dreadful fate.

This person went on to assure me that the spiders I find in my house are basically spiders who had their previous generations living in the house.  It’s the only life these spiders know.  Which is where the horror part comes in.  Because my mind immediately grabbed ahold of these spiders having thousands of tiny baby spiders.  Tiny enough that I can’t really see them.  And spiders are sneaky too.  They get into all those little nooks and crannies and can just set up a nice spider nursery without you even knowing it.  Oh and in case you didn’t know they don’t have like just one or two babies, it’s hundreds of them!

Think about it folks.  You remove the spiders you can see, but how many baby spiders are hiding and waiting to grow big enough to scare the crap out of you!  Some of them might even crawl into your ears or mouth or hair while you are innocently sleeping.  Yeah I know, thank me for this later!  Hey at least we can be awake together! 😊

Something Fishy

Fish. Fish, what’s for dinner.  Well some days it is.  I don’t fish now and then, a little if it has a strong fishy flavor or more if it doesn’t.  Oh and it can’t be hatters and deep fired.  I know.  Weird.

So I’m on a quest to find recipes for fish that taste like not fish.  Some recipes a have worked better than others.  Some have been frankly disasters and one was an absolute nightmare.

Land given my luck, it was the utter nightmare that I assured Beloved would be a mostly wonderful meal.  A meal we would enjoy.  Which of course never happened.  And to be honest I should have known better when I went out to gather the ingredients and struggled to find some of them and made multiple trips just to gather everything.  It didn’t help I had to deal with a dead fish looking at me.  Yes friends the fish was bought with its head on.  Who can eat something with its eyes still in the head?  Who can eat with dead eyes staring at them? 😐

So tonight I tried a recipe that used salmon, mango, walnuts, onion, chili peppers, oranges and arugula.  The picture looked so promising.  The meal was so not what the picture promised and tasted not so good.  I’m not saying it’s the recipes fault, I may very well have screwed it up.  But we won’t be trying it again any time soon.

The dogs will be sorely disappointed as they love fish and know when I get fish for humans, the dogs get their own fish.  So for their sake I must find a really good recipe so there is more fish in the house!

PTSD Partner And Me

Beloved crawled into bed, turned off the bedside lamp, pulled up the covers placed a pillow over his head.  A sure sign something wasn’t right, especially since it wasn’t even eight pm.

He assured me he was fine, that it was “just a wee touch of a headache”.  But who does that for just a touch of a small headache?  I shrugged my shoulders, and left him alone for an hour or so.

When I stuck my head back in the room he was pretty much as I had left him, and he still wasn’t asleep.  Either he had a migraine or there was something else going on and it appeared it was most likely not a migraine.  So I decided to attempt to talk to him, afterall what’s the worst that could happen?

Beloved slowly pulled the pillow down off his face, emerged from the cocoon of blankets and told me that he didn’t want to unload his horrors upon me,not with me having my own issues.

But slowly, carefully and yes awkwardly, he began to share the horrors of what he has witnessed in life, the horrors that haunt him from his job and his history.  In other words the reality of living with PTSD and learning how cope with things that act as triggers.

There isn’t a cure for this, and a person shouldn’t have to face it alone.  Crawling into bed and hiding from things isn’t the answer either.  So we venture into this scary and unusual world together.  For once I can let him lean on me, and it’s a wonderful thing.  No one should face the nightmare of PTSD alone, and yet there are many who do.

 

Got To Get Away

It was a little getaway, just the two of us and the dog in a quaint little cottage. It seemed lovely when it was proposed and it still seemed that way when we pulled into the track that stood for a driveway.

The cottage was one of those cute little whitewashed stone cottages that are throughout this country. It even had a thatched roof, which was great because it gave me the first thing to winder about. How many bugs were in the thatching? I had no doubt that it would keep us dry, but I wondered who else or what else would be kept dry by it.

Then there was the open fire, no screens or glass to keep the embers and Sparks where they belonged. I couldn’t find any wood for the fire which appeared to be the only way to heat the place. Beloved gently explained that this wouldn’t be heated so much by wood as by peat. It was then, at that very moment that I realized it wasn’t getaway so much as runaway. Fast! Now!

I’m not a fan of pest fires, they have their own smell and issues and it isn’t for me. It also wasn’t comforting to know that’s how we’d heat the place, during the cold, damp night. Nope this wasn’t the place for the dog or I. But if he wanted to stay there that was fine.

Of course the reality is we’d ave to spend at least one night there because it was late afternoon when we arrived. He assured me he’d take care of the hugs and the fire and I was just to relax. Sounded decent, sounded like a compromise.

But then the moths came in by the fire and well myths and I are not friends. I’d rather not share my space with them for some reason. And there were spiders milling about as spiders sometimes do. The wind was able to come in through cracks around the window sills and I suppose that’s how those lovely little creatures came in as well.

The dog and I settled somewhat wearily into a safe place and watched Beloved sort things out. And then his sleeve was smoldering. I’m not sure when it stated, I just know that I looked over and his sleeve had smoke coming from it. Magic? Nope, smoldering ember.

The smoldering was followed by him doing an odd dance that involved flinging his arm hither, thither and yon before dousing it in water. The smell was dreadful…burnt cloth, burnt hair and something else, which turned out to be burnt Beloved.

We ended up spending just the night before heading home to get away from getting away. 😉

Where Nightmares Live

I remember it as though it just happened. I can still taste the fear as it rose up in my throat. I remember the helpless feeling as I watched, unable to make it stop, unable to do anything for a while. Time was distorted too, some of it seemed to stand still and other times it moved too quickly. I remember waking up and realizing it was a nightmare, but not being able to pick up all,the threads of it.

I’m fortunate that for me nightmares only live, and rarely at this, in my hours of sleep and through my imagination.

Not everyone is as fortunate, some people know that nightmares live during their waking hours as well as the sleeping hours. Those nightmares don’t vanish when we open our eyes, and when we close them as if to banish the image, it rises up unbidden again.

Where do these nightmares? Research tells us that nightmares can hide behind pretty facades, beautiful gardens and houses just like yours or mine. Nightmares don’t always look like nightmares, in fact they seem to start off normal and it isn’t until you are further into them that you see how dark, how scary the nightmare can be.

Why do these nightmares live? How are they caused? Are they born or formed? Are there experiences that make them into nightmares?

Duality tells us that for the good…the dreams, there must also be the bad…the nightmares. All must balance and yet it seems to me the horrors of nightmares seems to weigh far heavier than the dreams and the hopes of the good. And yes I understand that so much of this depends on how and what we classify as good or bad, but in the end there are some things that are just plan nightmarish. And as much as I’d care not to admit, those nightmares live close to me, they live close to everyone if only because no matter what the distance is, it will always be too close.