Saturday, July 17, 2010

Late Night Panic Attack.

After watching a disc of House M.D. episodes with my sister, who is back at my house for the remainder of the summer (more or less), I went to bed pretty late last night.

I had a couple of really wretched dreams.

Both involved Jake, my husband.

In the first, I was with my cousin, her wife, my sister, and Jake for a bit, at a big... frat house type party. I was pregnant, so I wasn't drinking, and Samantha and I were just having a good ol' time laughing it up with Jake, when Jake said he wanted to go get something out of our place. So he did. And then he never came back. A few hours later, I called and called and called and he didn't answer. So I had my cousin call him, and she disappeared into a bar next door to talk to him. I couldn't find her either, for a while. I eventually did, but then she told me he was on his way to Utah. He just needed to go. He didn't say if he was coming back, or how long it would be, or whatever, and I was stuck there, without him, having a baby. Yikes!

Granted, I know he won't leave me, so I'm not really worried about it, but it was a horrible dream to have anyway.

The second, I dreamt I was at home reading a book, and got the worst visit ever, from the Sheriff, telling me that Jake had gotten into an accident on the way home and had died.

I HATE these kind of dreams. When he's driving home late (like he was last night after I fell asleep), I always fear that he won't make it home. Always.

So I woke up at 3:15 (or so, I didn't have a clock near me) and realized he wasn't in bed. Hmm.

I looked in the living room, and I found his phone, but I didn't see shoes or anything. The truck that he had drove last night was not out front either, so I didn't know where he was.

By this point, I'm surged with adrenaline and thinking the worst, partially because I worry, and partially because I'm pregnant, hormonal, and exhausted at this point.

I try to wake my sister to see if she's heard from him, but she didn't wake, and I couldn't find my phone to see if he had contacted me, but there was no record in his phone. I eventually find my phone, but no calls or anything of course, and I take both with me in my bathrobe. I notice the back room light is on, which is odd, so I go outside. I then see the truck blocking the garage, which is strange to me also because it's noisy and parked right outside our bedroom, and I don't recall it getting there. And the light is on in the garage...

That freaked me out. I get both phones in my hand and I open the door... and don't see him (or anyone) anywhere in the garage. The only noise is the radio. I start shaking pretty badly but walk into it a little further...

And I see his legs under my cousin's truck and I start crying silently because he is NOT moving nor making noise.

And then he hears me, and asks if I'm okay. I start sobbing more loudly and tell him how I was scared and couldn't find him and dreamt he died and blah blah... hysteric rant. He has me sit down on the dolly thing next to him until I calm down and am no longer dizzy and nauseous, before he gives me a hug and a kiss, lets me cry, tells me he's okay, it's okay, he loves me, wouldn't leave me, and he'll be in to bed shortly.

Apparently, since he's such a nice guy (and somewhat of an insomniac on any given night), he was changing the oil in my cousin's vehicle.

I came back to bed and cried myself to sleep, tears of relief, of course.

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