PTSD

So it happened.. The nightmares are back. I had a ton of nightmares right at the beginning.  Right after Simon died. I was always looking for him, and I could just never find him. I would be running all over the place and just never seemed to get close enough. There were a few dreams where the doctors, or Brett or my family would blame me for him dying. They would tell me that it was all my fault and shame me like crazy.  I remember one where the doctor was so angry at me, screaming at me that it was my fault that he forced me to labor all alone in silence. Brett wasn’t allowed to be with me and I had to sit silently in a room contemplating the fact that everyone thought I killed my own son.. It was horrifying to say the least.

Well.  Last night the nightmares came back. WHY!?!?!

It was horrible.  In my dream I was going out to coffee in New York City with a couple of friends and Nolan. When we left the coffee shop, NOlan was completely gone, nowhere to be found. I started screaming, searching and running.  I couldn’t find him. We started driving to close by areas and still couldn’t find him. I knew exactly what he was wearing. Navy blue sweats with a white stripe down the side. A gray sweatshirt with blue sleeves and a small Great Britain flag patch.  

Finally after running and running I found a boy wearing that outfit.  I screamed at him and picked him up. It wasn’t Nolan. I found another boy in a matching outfit, picked him up, it wasn’t Nolan. I found another boy, it wasn’t Nolan… I remember thinking, I can’t tell Brett.  I can’t tell him. He would be so mad at me. He would be so angry to know that I lost our precious son. We finally called the cops and they started searching as well. I recall screaming “YOU HAVE TO FIND HIM.  YOU HAVE TO FIND HIM. MY SON SIMON DIED ONLY 3 MONTHS AGO. I CAN NOT LOSE NOLAN. I JUST CAN’T!”

Then my dream changed. It was so strange. My dream changed to a birds eye view of Nolan. I found him.  But I didn’t know where he was. I just saw him. I saw him on the streets of NYC. I saw him take off his clothes and lay them on the side of the road.  Kind of like a sign. I saw him crawl through a tiny little fence and lay down on the ground to take a nap. He was crying “I want my mommy. I want my mommy.” I remember thinking “I have 2 hours.  Only 2 hours to find him. If he takes a good nap, I have 3 hours and that is all. After that, we will never see him again.”

And I woke up.  I woke up in a sweat telling Brett to look at the monitor.  Where is Nolan? Is he okay? Has he moved? Is he breathing?

This. Is. PTSD.

IMG_2209 2.jpg  (He’s just so cute, I who can resist this picture?)


5 thoughts on “PTSD

  1. Terrifying to say the least! I’m sorry you are having these awful dreams….❤️💔 (and, yes, no one can resist that little bug!!❤️)

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  2. PTSD is. A used by trauma, and I can’t imagine one greater than yours. I hope you can find a counselor if you don’t already have one. If you need to talk with a minister, I have one of the best. He won’t try to fill you full of platitudes—he will listen and help.

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