Last night it happened again. I began to fall asleep but instead of slipping into peaceful rest, I clawed my way back to consciousness, terrified of dying. As the darkness of deep sleep enveloped me I felt that if I succumbed, if I went too deep, I would slip over to the other side; that giving up control would literally result in me giving up the ghost. I grabbed Bryce's arm to keep me tethered to earth, as if that act could keep my spirit from flying away. I prayed to God that I would be spared; I think I also prayed for some crazy things too since I was hardly in my most logical state of mind. As you can see He did answer my prayer to live though it remains to be seen if He answers my plea for the ability to clone our dog so we can have a lifetime supply of Katies. (Which would be the tenderest mercy I could imagine).
It's all about control. And you don't have to be a Freud to see that I want it and I don't have it, I alternately take and then try to relinquish it (on my own terms) but then I panic--and anxiety takes over, even in my (almost) sleep.
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