Nightmares

How do you survive when everything in you is trying to die? I don’t know.

I had another nightmare… Damon was dying and I was screaming for someone to help. I was begging him not to go. He was in my arms and I was watching him go.

I have these nightmares often. We’re always in a hospital and I’m always screaming for someone to help. No one ever does.

As if the memories of the living nightmare weren’t enough, now I struggle through the images my mind conjures up night after night. I’m so angry and broken and exhausted. I miss him. I miss my son, my child, my baby. Once again, language fails… there is not a word for what I am. Broken isn’t it, torn is closer but still not deep enough, not raw enough, not horrible enough.

I sit in my livingroom, tears streaming down my cheeks, as I write this. My husband and my son go about their lives around me, completely habitualized to my endless weeping. Don’t misunderstand, my man cares deeply but for us this is ‘normal.’ Isaiah is use to this. The aftershocks never end.