Monday, November 03, 2008

A precipitous fall in mood, followed by creeping anxiety; pacing around the apartment, labile, insomnia. I’ve only the energy to do what needs to get done and I return home and curl up on the couch. Irena had invited me to Berlin for the weekend; I accepted and then called her Friday noon and cancelled. During the week I cancelled a first date with a new beau.

Looking out my apartment window, the winter sky descending on Paris, heavy gray clouds, patches of blue and mottled sunshine. The refracted light forming an outline of the tunnel, the shape barely formed, the walls diffuse. I dreamed of the tunnel the other night, its walls solid and dark, with only a bright light before me. I was in it alone, proceeding slowly toward the brightness. I turned, and from whence I came was only black and shadows. I turned toward the light and my mother was there, her face gaunt and pallid, with her hair long as the pictures I remember of her as a young woman, but now gray and straggled. Her arms by her side she was calling to me I didn’t understand what; come or no, which is it?

I woke with a start, sitting straight up in my bed, coughing amongst the tears, a heaving welled in my stomach. I scrambled for the bathroom, but my legs tangled in the blankets and a fell to the floor, a nearby waste basket became the repository for most of the mess.

After cleaning up I returned to bed, the awakened puppy stood on his hind legs, braced against the bed, his head barely clearing the edge of the mattress. I reached down and pulled him up and snuggled him against my chest, with the comfort of his beating heart and the rhythm of his breathing I fell asleep.

Around one, Christine called we talked and I told her of the dream and the images. The concern in her voice was comforting; I know I’m not alone. She asked about my day and I told her of my plans to meet Chloe and Anne Marie at Charlotte’s for hot chocolate. We talked some more and she asked if I’ll be alright. I told her that I would, and told her that the six were on a Kim watch and checking in with me. I joked that they must have a schedule. “We love you,” she interjected. “I know and I love all of you to,” I replied.

By the time I left the Metro at Pont Marie the rain stopped and the sky began to lighten. I was early and intended to browse the newsstand by the bridge; there I met Chloe who had a month’s worth of reading in her hands. I picked up a couple magazines and we started across the bridge. Part way across I stopped, and looked down at the water; “If for some reason I were to drown, it would be terrible if no one would believe it was an accident.” Chloe began speaking cautiously, seriously, but I must have betrayed myself and a smile crossed her face. “It would, so don’t,” was her reply, and with that she slipped her hand under my arm and we continued our walk to Paris’ best hot chocolate.



Anonymous vJ said...

Geez, you really need to try one of those lamps for some intensive light therapy. I think it's worth a try. Then try looking at the news around 10PM tomorrow, EST, to see the how the Revolution plays out over here. It'll be more fun than you care to believe. But here's hoping you're feeling better soon. Strangely enough, momma never chases me in my dreams. She's been gone about the same amount of time too. But then again I'm a completely different duck. Here's hoping you're feeling better soon. Cheers & Good Luck! 'VJ'

4:39 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Sorry I'm so slow in catching up to you.

I've had those dreams, too.

You'll be okay.



4:26 AM  

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