Okay, I really didn't know what to call this. For the past week or so, I've been having problems. Despite the St. Jon's Wort, things have been happening that are making me worry.
I haven't been sleeping.
Saturday night, I had a panic attack. I was at Sean's, checking in on his cat and eating his ice cream... I don't know when it started but, next thing I knew, I was shaking and panting and sweating - and freaking out in general. I went outside for a cigarette but that didn't help calm me down so I ran. I got in my car and drive for a couple of hours. I didn't end up sleeping until after 4am.
Dwight hit it on the head. He asked me when it had started. Then, he said, "You've been working on the letter for that long."
The letter. The first draft came in at just under 65 pages. I knew I'd proofread it and hoped to get it down to 60 - fifteen years together times four years apart. I'm nearly half-way through proofing it now and it's down to 61 pages. As substantial as that seems, in my dreams it is represented by a bloody smear on a curb. (WHY?!)
Then, last night, another nightmare. Rosa was going to marry Michael. I emailed her to persuade her not to but knew she wouldn't check it in time so I went to her house. There, I did everything I could to stop her. I begged and pleaded. The dreamed ended in the most vivid scene. We were sitting at our old kitchen island. I took her hand and told her how much I loved her and needed her. "Don't marry him. Marry me," I said. She kissed me on the cheek and, with a hateful look, said, "No, thanks. I've had my fill."
I woke up in a cold sweat and, I kid you not, I heard the chorus to "Did you ever have to make up your mind". Can anybody tell me what this means?!
Hopefully, once this letter is finished, I'll return to normal... well, as normal as I get, I mean.