Monday 26 September 2011

OF GUNS AND FOUR-FOUR TIME



I wake up after five hours of sleep feeling robbed and cast aside….picked clean, angry. I want to throw things and listen to them shatter. I want to say something spiteful to someone who doesn’t deserve it. I am not: brave, philosophical, kind, reasonable or
even particularly sane. I want to hurt something back.

I accept and adjust and accommodate this new order of complete uncertainty. I tell myself that I have no option but to be patient, but this morning I feel like an animal about to chew off it’s own leg to escape a trap.

I’m beyond pissed.

I give the phone wide berth. I don’t answer email. There is a raging two-year old inside me. She just might own a gun. And while she can rampage through my apartment, I have enough self-control left to know she shouldn’t be going walkies.

In a while, I go back to bed. I wake the second time out of dream of being embraced by a friend. We are, bizarrely, dressed as pirates. We are holding each other, swaying slightly, like waltzing, four-four time. And it feels really good.

And it’s so very much worse than being angry.

The never-mores, they come and they go. Please. Let this one go quickly.



2 comments:

Pat Barber said...

The nightmares are a cruel and awful side product. I remember them well. I also know, right now, it does no good (and you won't believe me anyway) for me to tell you that given patience and (what will surely seem like) a HELL of a lot of time, they will subside and become a distant memory. Please just try to remember that the nightmares are merely your subconscious's way of symbolizing the rage and fear within you. The nightmares, and their horrific symbols and terrors, do not define you. Not permanently.

Howpublic said...

Pat...I'm sure you're right & thank you for commenting. As you know, just hard to get through at the time. Thankfully, it isn't ALL the time now...but the odd night.