Dreams…can be Nightmares

I was bored. I wanted to get out of the house and go on a adventure! I don’t have a purple bag pack like Dora. Nor do I have the famous orange shorts she struts around in. But what I do have, is my uncles aul NIKE bag pack that I fill with snacks, water, a notepad & pen and a camera. I like to go on adventurous cycle’s regularly, as I never know where I will end up. The random turns and dead ends make it all the more refreshing. Although…

 


 

A few days ago I was feeling nostalgic. I heard the news Robin Williams, passed away via the same route as my father over 2 years ago, committing Suicide. Hearing that Robin Williams, a favorite childhood actor of mine, and my fathers favorite actor passed away the same way. Well. It got me thinking (Something I do too much of)  and I drifted off into my thoughts…. It made me sad. It made me wonder. How such kind, talented men can feel so low in their own self. It’s unfortunate right? When certain people commit suicide some people are shocked, “jees they were so happy, they had everything going for them” It shouldn’t be a shock when one person does it and not when another doesn’t. Unfair right? But that is this world. Full of Judgments, first impressions, judging a book by its cover, when you don’t even know what is written on the first page.

 

So on this ‘adventure‘ I decided. “I’ll visit my own home and relive some memories of my family & I“. I thought to myself “won’t that just make me sad?” But no. It was my family home, I have more funny, loving, memories full of life than I do sad, angry, death ones. Sometimes when someone close to you dies? You block out memories, not purposely but, it happens. I forget already what my dad sounds like, I forget about everyday things we used to do, I forgot how my mom sounded singing, hell I forget what I ate yesterday. Our mind just remembers what it wants, not what we choose, unless we work on it.

I wanted to snoop around, and remember things about my past. I done so, I went into my bedroom and remembered all my friends who had written all over my bedroom wall, which was now all a pale cream color, one may say ‘magnolia‘ which is a fancy term for…cream. I remember the Manchester united wall paper my brother had in his room. I remember kicking my shoe off in anger at my father and breaking our downstairs front window (I was a temper mental little thing). I also remember all our Christmas Days, our birthday’s, playing with my first nephew outside, playing basketball with my brother with the washing baskets as hoops && sitting on his resulting in me falling straight through it, bursting out of it with no more then a few scrapes on my back. All memories of that house whether good/bad/funny/sad to me now? Are a blessing. I forgot about these things unfortunately, and revisiting the house made me feel like part of my old family again. Nothing beats that feeling of comfort.

The last room I went into on my adventure was the garage. This, was where my dad was last alive. He hung himself on a rope of the beams in the roof. Which once hung our boxing bag. Many a time I saw the step ladder in there since his passing and I wanted to smash it to smithereens. This time after visiting the house many times in the past two years, I saw something different. . .

I saw my dad, hanging there, dead, motionless, freezing cold, I felt shivers, I felt nauseous, I stood frozen, scared and trapped sinking into the ground. I stared, for around 5 minutes before my legs could move. I moved towards my dad hanging there to touch him, terrified of what was going on, this is the present, he died over 2 years ago?! WHAT is happening? Confused & nervous, I went to touch him... His hand grabbed my wrist && his big blood red eyes stared up at me with anger and he roared “JUST KIDDING” in the most frightening voice possible.

Then…I woke up.

 


 

Yup…my “adventure” was a horrifying nightmare. It felt like reality, In the dream I was beyond confused at how this was happening?! I felt like the last two and a half years were the dream, that it was 2012 and I was finding him for the first time. Nope it was just a ‘dream‘. When I woke up? I was covered in sweat, tears streaming down my face and having a coughing fit. I had to double check with myself that my dad was really dead. I woke up thinking he was still here, but he wasn’t…

 

That.. was worse than the nightmare itself.

 

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5 thoughts on “Dreams…can be Nightmares

  1. Hello pet! Jen here from the Connected tweets 🙂 – your blog is just lovely. And heartbreaking. I lost my Mam just over a year and a half ago, and it doesn’t take much in my everyday life to send me right back to her hospital bed on the night she died. Your circumstance was far more traumatic, so it’s only natural your poor brain keeps playing the scene out in your head, like it doesn’t want to believe that something so horrible could be real. It’s a type of PTSD in a way. Don’t be too hard on yourself when stuff like that happens with the nightmares, at least you have the outlet of the blog, and your friends around you too. Mind yourself! I’m here as well 🙂

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