Sweet Dreams Are Not Made Of This

I have been unable to reach my mum for a few days so I decide to pass by the house and see what the issue is. When I get there I find my mum in bed. Her eyes are bloodshot and the fluid in her catheter is red from the blood flowing out of her. It is then I realise that I have been unable to reach her because she is deathly ill. My brother comes up to me and apologises for not telling me how ill mum is as she asked him not to. She did not want to worry anyone. I lose it and start screaming at him for not telling me earlier because now I have less time with her. I ask him over and over and over why he did not inform me. Only to realise he did not tell me because she is already dead.

And then I wake up.

I have had hundreds of dreams about my mum ever since she died. Initially I loved them because I would get to talk to my mum and reassure her that all will be well. They would feel like the final face-to-face conversation we never got the chance to have.

But now, case in point the dream in the intro, they are no longer lovely. It is either:

1. I dream that my mum is still alive and for a few disconcerting seconds when I wake up I am unaware that she is dead.
2. I dream that my mum is alive but I know she does not have much time left. When she dies again in my dream I cry as if it were happening for the first time.

On May 26^th I dreamt that my mum was not dead but had gone into some sort of witness protection because her husband was trying to kill her. I will not share any further information about that dream. Just know that it shook me so hard I wrote it down shortly after I woke up. I spent the better part of the morning crying and was high by midday.

The last Monday of November I woke up at some point in the night and could see something watching over me beside my bed. The figure did not seem threatening but it still freaked me the fuck out. I closed my eyes but when I reopened them it was still there. I threw my pillow at it and that is when it disappeared. I was so confused by this figure and the only explanation coming to mind was that there were thieves in my house. I lock my bedroom door when I go to sleep so I got up to check and it was still locked. I did not have the courage to check the rest of the house. That is some white-people-in-a-scary-movie type of madness. I am not saying that I saw “the ghost of my mum” because for all I know the curtain was playing tricks on me. But I really sensed that something/someone was watching over me.

In the tribute I gave at my mum’s funeral service I said that just because someone is not here does not mean they are gone. I believe that with all my heart. Our loved ones continue to watch over us as guardian angels. Maybe my mum is unhappy with how sad I am that she is unable to rest in peace. Or maybe the dreams are due to the misalignment between what I know in my head and what I feel in my heart. In a previous post I talk about how I have two truths inside me – my mum is alive in my heart but dead in my head. My heart is feeding my subconscious which feeds my dreams. We buried my mum a year ago today but I still dream about her almost every night.

Imagine starting most days realising that, contrary to what you woke up knowing, your mum is dead. It is akin to emotional torture. The dreams were fine at the beginning but now they are distressing. It is amazing I have not gone crazy.