ruffle…

Oh how time flies! I swear to you I’ve wanted to post so many times and just haven’t. OK so a summation.

Life is carrying along at a pleasant pace at the moment. I’m etching plates, I’m paying bills, I’m watching movies, I’m going to the pool in the later evenings to get some physical activity.

I’m 35. I FEEL 35 and I LIKE 35. I like the unspoken acceptance of my age and my season. I feel so much more free to be the me that I’ve always secretly wanted to be. I’m making an effort unlike I’ve ever made for saving my money, getting my bills managed and considering my future.

I have some crap going on of course, life wouldn’t be life without it. My grandmother is old. She’s dying and the day will come sooner than later. My mother toled me to begin preparing. That means 2 trips back home. My best friend’s daughter is struggling and is in hospital for suicidal and drinking issues. I cry at the thought. Probably because at 16 I WAS that girl. Its more painful and emotional now for me than it was when I was younger. I had no grasp of what my actions would cause.

And I am optimistic. I am hopeful. I am thoughtful. I am real. I am OK.

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9, 10 never sleep again…

It’s 1:30 am on Tuesday morning.  I groggily rise from the comfort and safety of Chuck and my couch and declare I’m heading to bed.  He kisses, hugs, reassures me once more and off I go to the bedroom.  The room in which all things horrible and dark and bad have occurred in the past 3 days.

TWN Tuesday morning’s dream:

I am in a house.  It’s dark.  I feel it is a single level home, reminiscent of Kas’ teen years home.  The one she moved into around 7th grade.  The one that was perpetually in a state of remodel, addition, renovation, or excavation.   I am aware that Kas, her Dad, Chuck, and myself are in the house.  It’s night, it’s dark, everyone is sleeping.  I’m aware Kas’ Dad is in the room to the left behind me, there is another room to the right behind me.  They’re both bedrooms, the doors are closed on both.  Somewhere behind me is also a bathroom.  Between the bedrooms?  Down a hall I can’t be sure is or isn’t there?  I just know there is a bathroom.  In the living or main room between the back wall and the couch is open-ish space.  It’s cluttered.  There aren’t any window coverings and the brightly shining moon is the only source of light. I see black silhouettes backdropped in the blueish silver of the moonlight.  Silhouettes of cushions and blankets and clothes and stuff, lots and lots of stuff leaned and stacked against the entire perimeter.  On the floor, between the couch and the back is some stuff, I can’t make out what.  The floor I am sure is press board (plywood?), this is what gives me confidence enough to know I am at Kas’ Dad’s house as it was when I was a teen.  And yet, Chuck is there.  And I am aware there are other’s there.  People I don’t know.  Kas is in the front of the room, in front of the couch, sleeping.  There’s an older TV on an older wheeled TV stand I can make out the shape, Kas is in the mess of blankets near the TV, sleeping.  Someone is sleeping on the couch.  No, wait no one is on the couch.  Chuck and I are in the right back bedroom, also cluttered to the hilt.  No we’re in the living room, no the back bedroom.  The phone doesn’t ring audibly though I answer it.  It’s for Chuck.  It’s a woman.  She knows him.  She’s in the house. We’re in the living room, she’s in the back right bedroom.

I’m walking in an alley, closer to the end of the alley behind me than in front of me I am confident of my destination.  It’s not Winter, it’s not Summer, it’s not Autumn, it’s not Spring.  It’s past Spring.  Before it gets hot.  It’s a gravel alley, reminding me of the alley of Sammy’s the Italian Restaurant in my childhood home town.  Only the gravel lot for Sammy’s isn’t there, instead it’s unobtrusive houses, landscape.  I’m walking.  The road declines and inclines.  On my left there is a fenced yard with activity, it’s dusk lighting out yet not dusk, overcast?  It’s after 3pm for sure.  Almost 5?  What time is it?  All those people at that house, the activity.  That’s the house.  The motorcycle club meeting place.  It’s someone’s home though they all gather there.  There is a cursory bike near the fence gate, tall grass edges the fence, a garage I come upon first, gravel, nothing weird.

I’m running with a goal, running after something, after someone.  I’m chasing someone.  Her.  I’m chasing her.  She has long black hair, longer than mine in reality though right now my hair is longer.  Mine is down to my butt as it was when I was an early teen.  I’m running down the street, on the sidewalk, no longer on the sidewalk.  I keep just missing her as she ducks around the corner or just out of sight.  I see her hair.  Loosely curly, billowing like a flag almost.  Black.  She’s running not scared though not relaxed or lightly.  She doesn’t fear me.  In her mind, she is determined I cannot catch up, must not catch up.

I’m on a street facing what feels like towards a decline in the road although the road itself isn’t declined, the horizon is.  To my left is a shack yet it’s a newspaper stand but not.  I get the feeling it’s the other side of the block from the biker gang house, the front side of the alley I’d walked down.

Chuck is there, he and another guy, a big guy.  Really big guy, he’s fat, not really fat though.  He’s massive, has some dark hair, wearing a biker vest and biker boots.  A t-shirt, jeans, wallet with a chain to the belt loop.  He has a bandanna on.  I can’t clearly see any facial characteristics.   They don’t focus in for my eyes. I am in front of the stand, the guy on my left, his back to the huge horizon decline.  Chuck on my right.  They’re chatting easily.  I know this is the guy from Kas’ house.  This is the guy that was on the couch, but it wasn’t him on the couch, it was a much smaller version of him.

I feel that this guy and the girl with black curly hair are siblings.  This is her brother.  Chuck and him are friends, not exceptionally close but real friends.  I remember the girl, Chuck’s ex.  Where is she?  I am curious, I am looking for her, seeking her out, I’ve been chasing after her.  She won’t stop.  I don’t want to fight.  Chuck belongs to this biker gang.  He’s part of this group, has been for quite sometime now.  It’s not new or unusual.  I begin to get a bit impatient.  I want to talk to this girl.  The girl with the black curly hair.  She keeps running off, she won’t even let me get near her.  I don’t want to fight her!  God!  What am I, stupid?  Fighting is childish ridiculous.  No.  I just want to talk to her.  I just want to grill her.  She called late.  She called my phone.  Who is this girl?  I don’t know this girl.  What is her name?

…

Chuck climbs into bed.

I audibly say “I’m not jealous”.

Chuck says “uh oh.  Baby, what are you dreaming about?”

I repeat “I’m not jealous.  I don’t want to hurt her.  I don’t want to fight her.”

Then it dawns on me this is Chuck.  I swing at him less severely than on Saturday night but with gusto and an obvious anger.

I think but don’t say aloud “Your EX.  I was chasing your Ex girlfriend.  I think it was your ex.  She had black curly hair.  She wouldn’t stop.  I’m not jealous.  I don’t want to hurt her.”

Chuck wraps his arms around me.  Tells me to shhh, it’s OK, calm down.  He’s there.  It’s a dream.  It’s OK.

Sleep finally makes camp.  A dreamless peaceful sleep.

And that ends “The Weekend of the Nightmares”.  Tuesday night I went knitting, talked with Chuck, made a stir fry dinner, watched some TV.  Fell asleep around 11pm, didn’t wake up until after 5am.  Did not recall or knowingly participate in any dreaming.  Did not pee, did not collect $200.

Da-Dooo-DO… Da-Dooo-DO… Da-Doooo-DO

(if you need assistance reading this blog title, please refer to the freakishly eerie music heard in any and every scary movie in existence especially Freddy movies, OR just call my sister, she’ll be happy to sing it for you.)

Part 3 of TWN’s really takes place on Monday night.  Sunday night I slept alone, although not what I’d consider a great or even good night’s sleep it was a full night’s sleep.

Monday.  Oh Monday.  Monday was the day of the faucet eerily turning on by itself.  Monday I’d had a rough work day (I cried, not all that notable as it happens more often than I’d like), I’d had a rough after work day- “Friend’s” on channel 7 was the one where Ross’s son is born.  As I watched I bawled fully aware my birthday was soon, I am unmarried, I am childless, I live in apartment (rather than a house), I have little (read essentially none) savings or retirement, I have NOTHING to show for my life and here’s Ross having a KID w/his ex-wife and her lesbian life partner.  W. T. F. ?  I am pitiful, my life is a waste, Oh woe is me.

Kas helped.  A lot.  A girlfriend called next, crying.  She’d had a crap day at work as well.  Great.  Turns out all of my friends had a crap day on this Monday.

Nonetheless after the phone call I actually felt pretty good, cleaned up my joint, chilled on the couch, had a grilled cheese (Borden’s chipotle cheese.  Mmm.), talked to Chuck.  Had a great evening.

Went to bed at 10:30.  At 11pm I woke like a shot.  After what felt like hours, yet was seconds, I got out of bed and uncharacteristically grabbed my cell phone, I got to the doorway of my bedroom (note every door in my home is open unless it holds something I don’t want the cats getting into), and my cell phone rang.  In my hand.  At 11pm.  On a Monday.

I freakin hit the ceiling!  I looked and once my eyes focused (yeah I’d turned the bedroom light on) on the number I  recognized it as Cliff’s family in another state.  I didn’t get a name so I wasn’t for sure and anyway I wasn’t talking.  I hit “end” to send to voicemail and pitifully attempted to catch my breath.

At this point I do believe I called Chuck.  I know I went to the front door to confirm it was locked.  It was.  I got a drink of water.  I paced.  I got back in the bed.  I know that by now I definitely was on the phone with Chuck.  We were having thunder storms at this time.  We were on the phone I was explaining the dream, I was easily a 1/2 a deck short at this point.  I said something like “I know it’s crazy and ridiculous but seriously I’m freaked out!  … Are you even listening to m*RING*.  HOLY MOTHER OF SHIT GOD AND EVERYTHING OH MY GOD *SCREAM* HOLY *hyperventilating*

“hello????”

And it was Chuck.  The call dropped, he called back.  I didn’t even know it dropped.  If I thought I was spooked earlier I was mother fucking super spooked now.

And crying.

And scared.

And crying.

And terrified to the point of immobility.

I got up and turned on the over the stove light.  Checked the door.  Got a drink of water.  Got back in bed.  Cried.  This whole time on the phone with Chuck, near hysterical.  Chuck made major cheer-up effort.  We end the call.

I am terrified.  Completely and wholly terrified.

I call him back.  Sobbing again, still.   He calms me down.  We end the call.

15min later I call again.  Crying.  Chuck immediately says “I’m putting my flip flops on now baby I’ll be there as soon as I can”.  He stays on the phone with me until he gets to the car and out of his lot.  He calls to tell me the gate is open and he’s not going to call for access.  He calls again telling me he’s here, walking up and it’s going to be OK.

He comes in, takes his shoes off, shirt off, grabs pillows off my bed, a blanket from the ottoman, an ashtray and plugs in his phone.  He sits down on the couch, tucks the pillow up, and pats it.  Saying “OK c’mon baby lay down you’ve got to work in the morning.”  And he proceeds to brush my hair back with his hand until I finally fall asleep. (side note Joe Dirt was on, stupidly funny movie I owe my sanity to.)

The Nightmare from Monday:

Same state of sleep – thinking I’m awake, I am not though.  I can’t move.  I can’t control it.

In the dream I have an unsettling dream.  I wake up, I hear voices (kids? teens?) I get up and go to the front door to check the locks.  They aren’t locked.  As I go to lock them the door opens and at least 3 possibly 6 or 8 hands and arms shoot in through the gap between the door frame and the door.  They’re moving quickly swinging and grasping the air.  They touch me, grab for me.  I am totally freaked, try to shut the door, can’t push hard enough.  Can’t shut it.  OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD.  I scream.

I startle awake.  Was that a dream?  Was it real?  Oh my God, I have to check the door.  I can’t move.  What if someone is here.  Is someone in here?  God what if someone is IN HERE?

I finally am able to get up, I uncharacteristically grab my cell phone…head to the doorway of the bedroom.  The phone rings….