Coffee Pots and Nightmares

Last night was the first night in a while that I didn't have a nightmare. It was the first time that I didn't wake up at 3 or 4 am in a cold sweat thinking that my nightmares were real. The rest was welcomed, and so necessary. But then, came some more hard work. I needed to push through.

I needed to push through the moopiness, and the ick. I've needed to do so many 'me' things over the last few weeks, but I couldn't push through the nightmare that had become my life. I've been maintaining; barely keeping my head above water. I've felt like I was drowning. I was living my first fear while doing my second fear. Drowning in myself during a pandemic. I put on a smile, and acted tough and strong. I'd suck it up during my Zoom meetings at work, only to far apart afterwards. Hold it in, let it go, try to forget, and repeat was my holding pattern during the day. By night, the nightmares took hold.

Seeing his face, hearing his words, and feeling his presence in my sleep has been jarring. The lucidity of it is the challenge. It feels so real. I see him, but it's not just seeing him, it's what he's doing. It's reliving all the feelings and fights. I haven't seen him for weeks in person, but my mind.... he's there. I don't want him to be. I want to "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind" him. I want him gone.

I want the nightmares to stop, for good. I want him to be gone. just gone.

I'm tired. I want resolution. I know I'm not going to get it. I need to create it myself.

I need coffee.