A Pilgrim’s Digression

My bad dreams seems to be spilling over into my life at home on weekends. I slept poorly roughly half of the time I was home this weekend, not always because of bad dreams. I am easily awakened now, for reasons I don’t understand. Also, I seem unable to fall into a deep enough sleep. Deep enough to dream, but then I wake up frequently in the night, and sometimes I have difficulty going back to sleep.

This afternoon, I lay down and took a nap around a quarter of two. I woke up within fifteen minutes, having had another nightmare. In this dream, I received a phone call from someone who sounded like a great aunt. I assumed she was calling to ask me how my grandma was doing.

Grandma has been much on my mind this weekend, because she went for a CT scan last week and the results are supposed to be in today. Whether or not she continues treatment for her cancer is dependent on the result of these periodic tests.

I have been putting off calling her today, because I am not sure I want to know the news. It’s been a year since her diagnosis with pancreatic cancer. How much longer can she reasonably live?

Anyway, in the dream, I talk to this person who I assume is a relative. I tell her I have not called grandma, and in my head I feel guilty because I haven’t called.

Finally, as the other person talks, I begin to detect oddities in the voice and in what she is saying. She seems to be repeating what I say, for the most part, not adding anything to the conversation.

I ask, “This is Aunt Mary Ann, right?”

There is silence on the other end. Then the voice says, menacingly, “Subtle. Very smooth.”

And she hangs up.

In the dream, I have this sickening feeling that this person knows something, or is going to hurt me in some way because I talked to her like a family member.

Probably, the dream is no more than an expression of guilt over not calling my grandma today. I need to do that and get it out of the way.

But what about my other nightmares? I had a therapy session today, but forgot to mention my sleep problems. I did talk about grandma and my feelings over her situation extensively, however.

I mentioned how I felt when I went to my great-grandma’s funeral at the beginning of the month, how it seemed like an eerie preview of the funeral to come. In retrospect, it almost seems like a nightmare itself, right down to the way my grandpa and his brothers kind of made light of their mother’s death by only postponing their fishing trip long enough to put their mother in the ground.

I know that puts a harsh angle on their actions, but as I told my therapist, the whole thing seemed rather surreal, not like a funeral at all. And I was left wondering, how is grandpa going to act when my grandma dies? Will he go fishing then, too?

My therapist didn’t say anything, other than to repeat back to me what I’d said I felt. Sometimes I feel like I’m in echo chamber. I wish I had one male friend who lived close by, with whom I could just go out and drink and talk. But this isn’t exactly the kind of thing men talk about when drinking…”Oh, my grandma’s dying…I’m afraid I’ll cry at her funeral, and no one in my family ever cries.”

But I’ve got a therapist. I’m going to see him again in two weeks. I’m thinking about scheduling my next appointment for one week later, and seeing him every week for awhile, until I start to feel like I’m getting a better grip on things.

I’m going back to Washington tonight. Here’s hoping for a good night’s sleep.