Melancholy Mood

I absolutely hate being managed by my moods.  Yesterday I was full of happiness and hope, having had a fantastic day with family and friends and being thoroughly spoilt with a mixture of material things and love. I went to bed feeling positive about next few weeks, particularly focussed on how to tackle the mountain of work I have to complete before I leave.  I had it all sorted, and I couldn’t wait for today to arrive so I could crack on and make some progress.

So what happened? What changed during the twilight hours that have left me feeling bereft, drained, emotional and hopeless? Where did the focus go that would have stopped me from sitting here in my pyjamas staring at a laptop screen and praying for something to click? The emptiness I feel this morning is only temporarily quelled when the tears flow. It’s as though the tears take some of the hollow feeling with them. For a minute. Perhaps this is just an anti-climax? After all the attention and loveliness of my birthday yesterday, today feels bare in comparison?  No, surely not. This is more than that.

Yesterday my old ‘friend’ Ant watched from the sidelines as I smiled and laughed my way through my milestone birthday.  Growing increasingly annoyed at not being invited to join in the celebrations, she waited.  She looked on silently, lurking in the shadows, whilst I took a quiet hour with me and my bump after everyone had gone to bed.  When I climbed the stairs to bed, I was far too tired to notice the familiar footsteps behind me. But she was there, because she found her way into my mind as I slept and breathed her best into my dreams.  

Do you ever have those dreams that are so real that you awake feeling like you have lived through it? The dreams she gave me last night were like that.  I had 2 vivid dreams, although as the hours pass this morning the details are becoming more fuzzy. In one, for reasons unknown, my husband left. No explanation, no goodbyes, just disappeared. He wouldn’t answer my texts or calls, did not respond to any of the voicemails I left, despite the desperate pleas for him to contact me, to come home. Like in a movie, I could see him, so I knew he wasn’t in danger or hurt.  He had just started a new life somewhere else, somewhere without me. Why? Why would he leave me like that? When I woke up I just wanted to touch him to make sure he really was still there, and to hold him and beg him not to leave me alone. As I write, fresh tears are rolling down my face. How can a dream have this effect on a person? Damn she’s good! It seems she is even more effective through the night. 

There were lots of other strange details in the dream that are a bit more vague than the general message of being abandoned.  I remember mud, lots of mud. And I remember an official looking man who kept letting himself into my home where he would rearrange the furniture back to how it was before we started preparing for the impending arrival. I’m trying to push those things to the back of my mind because my over-thinking analytical brain is already hinting at what those images could mean, and I can’t let those thoughts permeate, not this close to the ‘end’.

The second dream is one I’m not sure I even want to commit to paper. It feels like an omen that would dare to become reality if I were to give it my words. What I will say is that hearing my daughter jump out of bed this morning filled me with the hugest sense of relief, as I had been battling for over an hour with an overwhelming need to go into her room to check she was ok.  Frozen to the spot where I laid, feeling the desire to check on her but too frightened to go in, just in case…

I thought I’d managed to put her down. Put her into a place where I could at least keep an eye on her, and keep her quiet. Her voice has certainly been muffled for a while. Why then, after having such a wonderful day did I allow her to remove the muzzle? I clearly let my guard down, and distracted by the events of the day she managed to set herself free.  Well she definitely made an impression.  And I can only hope that somewhere within me I can find the strength to put her back down. But I’m alone today, and being alone doesn’t usually put me in a position of strength to fight.

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