Nightmare: The end

I am sharing things very few people know. I have held these thoughts and memories very close to me over the past 5 years and only shared bits and pieces with various close friends and family. I wonder if I am going to be sharing things I will be judged for. I worry that I will lose friends or family over this. However, after much prayer I feel that for me I must get these things out of my head. Because this is a hard topic for me to write about, I will be covering it in a few parts. I don't know how long each part will be. I will know in my heart when it's time to start and stop each one….

When Tony died, I held myself together for my mom. After being there when she lost it the morning after he passed away, I came up with the brilliant idea that she didn't need to see my grief anymore. I felt that crying in front of her took away from the depth of her grief or added to it. Dumb thought process, but it’s what I thought.

Anytime I needed to cry I took a long hot shower. I would sit there on the cool tub floor and bawl. I held in the sounds; I just let the tears fall as I held my fist over my mouth to stop any sound from escaping. I would pray to God, to Tony asking them to help me stay strong. I don’t even know if I washed my hair while in there. I still go to the shower to cry when it’s too much for me. It has become a place I can talk to Tony and cry without anyone seeing me break down.

After the memorial, my parents headed back to Colorado. I was left with a man that wouldn't help me grieve. I took a lot of showers.

Two weeks after Tony died it started. After another long shower I crawled in to bed exhausted and snuggled with my dog. The boyfriend hated the dog being in bed, but I needed him to hold. I needed that warmth that only Petey could give me. I sure as hell wasn't getting it from the jackass. I fell asleep and then next thing I know I’m waking up at 3 am screaming. The jackass woke up too but he didn't care that I was having a nightmare and he went back to sleep.

I got out of bed and went to the couch. Petey followed me. And so did my other dog Trixie. She wasn't a cuddler and preferred to sleep under the bed. But that night both my wonderful dogs sat up with me. They “held” me as I tried to understand my nightmare. I didn't go back to sleep that night.

For the next two months I had that same nightmare every night. After breaking up with the jackass, I moved in with my aunt for a month and I hid my nightmares from her too. I thought people would judge me and think I was the lowest and most awful person in the world. It took me a year to tell my dad about some of it.  

I am in Tony’s apartment. He is laying there making that sound, the death rattle. I keep yelling at him to “SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP!” I cover my ears and start to chant “I hate you, I hate you.”  He is looking at me and the sound gets louder with every breath I take. I try to leave the apartment but I can’t find the door. I scream for help but no one answers me. I feel my heart speed up and then I feel anger so raw bubbling up in me that I start to claw at Tony. I draw blood from his arms but the sound doesn't stop. I take the pillow from the bottom of the hospital bed he is lying in and I cover my head with it. The sound just gets louder. So I do the only thing I can. I take the pillow and hold it over his face and mouth. I hold it there till there is no more death rattle. There is just the sound of my sobs.

And that’s when I wake up. When I lived alone I would find both dogs in my bed licking me and my tears. I think I screamed and scared them. They came to rescue me. They were my security team and calmed me. Then they’d sit up with me the rest of the night while I watched mindless TV.

I have analyzed this nightmare for the past year. In sitting down to write all this out, I have come to a conclusion that I should have told someone about this when they first started. It took me four years to figure out why I kept having this nightmare. I feel that I kept having it because I didn't deal with the anger I felt about Tony dying. I think somewhere in that last day I wanted him to stop making that sound because I was in denial of what was coming. I was mad at him for leaving me, for thinking I could handle all this on my own. I hated that he made me go through that kind of hell at 30 years old. I hated the hole his death left in me.  

What didn't help was that my mom once asked me if I killed Tony that day by giving him the pill. I wonder if I thought the same thing because it did quiet him. But after doing some research I know I didn't. The pill I gave him was half an anti-anxiety pill. He’d taken a stronger dose while going through all the chemo, radiation and all the other treatments they tried on him. The dosage I gave him didn't kill him, his body just finally had had enough. But her accusation didn't make the nightmare’s go away, it made them intensify.

I haven’t had the nightmare in a year. The last year has lessened the haunting of the noise. I have finally come to terms with my grief and all its stages. I am healing… slowly but none the less. I sit here, now, in tears. This nightmare has been the biggest secret I've ever kept. No one, not even my dad, has gotten the entire story. You, my reader, just did. Thank you for allowing me to share this part of me with you. The nightmare has ended…

~ The Composer