night terrors

Last night I dreamed that M and I were arguing. It was over something rather small & insignificant-- I wanted him to take more days off work so we could go to the coast and he was insisting that he could not take time away from his business lest he lose his job. In the dream, I grew loud and angry and ran off in a huff, slamming the door behind me as I left the room. At that very moment, in the land of the living, X woke with a scary, keening wail and continued screaming while I tried to comfort him. It was obvious he had been dreaming of something awful.

It occurred to me that perhaps he was dreaming my dream -we are so close these days, after all. And it seemed possible that the thing which scared him most was watching his parents in a hateful dispute. I remembered my own childhood -the terror when my parents would holler & scream, the sadness and worry when my mother would kick my father out, if only for the night. I remember crying with my sister in our bedroom at night -once the dust had settled and the air had cleared after yet another of their terrible brawls - wondering if dad would be coming home this time.

All these thoughts let me to wish I were more careful in my words and in my deeds. M & I get along terrifically, but the chronic state of exhaustion in which I live has made me less patient than I ought to be at times. I find myself being sharper than I intend and the fatigue has wound me tight & made me irritable -and most often over the silliest things. I promised myself in half-sleep that I would be kinder and gentler so that X need never fear his own parents.