Before I Go To Sleep

Ok, it’s been awhile I know this. I have been to London and Colorado and now I’m chilling on my bed in Chicago, I am pretty fortunate this summer.

I’ve been reading this book called Before I Go To Sleep and it’s the 13th book for me this year. It’s a big deal last year I wanted to read what like 25 books? I didn’t make it and this year I decided to start lower and do 12 that meant 1 a month. I’m already ahead of the game which is cool. So this book I’m reading Stephen recommended because I love thrillers.

The main character, Christine, forgets her memories every night and wakes up barely remembering much aside from childhood and snippets of university life. So she wakes up believing she is 21 or sometimes a little older and it turns out she is middle aged and has a husband. Things get shady because she starts to keep a journal and has a doctor friend who calls her each day to follow up. Turns out her husband is keeping details of her life from her, such as the fact she was a writer and they had a son together. Makes you wonder who she can trust.

It made me think of what I remember and what we forget, memories are an interesting thing. Especially because we remember things differently and sometimes our version can differ from someone else’s, so she feels she can’t rely on her memories fully.

It made me think of my memories with Stephen, the beautiful moments we share and the difficult times when we disagree. I feel relief, this huge relief that I have someone that I can trust and cares for me. Someone I can go to with my facts and feelings. And books of course. I’m about to embark on this stressful time of my life going to grad school and I’m glad he’s my home base because I’m gonna be going mad come autumn. I am going to remind myself that writing is one of my best ways to cope just like it is for Christine!


The Things I Carry

The other night I was plagued by nightmares. They were all unrelated yet stirring in that dark place inside where all my traumas reside. One moment I’m asleep beside Stephen the next I’m wide awake reliving all those awful memories from my spoiled childhood. I haven’t looked at those skeletons in a long time. I forgot them purposefully but my subconscious dragged me back. It tends to do that because my nightmares tend to bring out the child in me.

When I awake in a fright, I seek the comforts I rarely had as a child. Someone to soothe my concern, someone who is warm and kind and hugs me back the present. Even now it’s hard to face the demons of my past and to acknowledge them, that proves twice as difficult. I have to face them but I was getting by on ignoring it. I thought that would work. When I awoke I thought perhaps it’s time to share what haunts me with the one I want to plan my life with. I changed my mind instantly.

I already told him about the horrors of my last relationship… to lay bare all the burdens I carry seemed too cruel. I didn’t want to give him my pain even if he wants me to share it with him. I don’t want him to carry it too. He already carried so much for me this past year.

So I lay there as he comforted me with a tight squeeze and he fell back asleep. I was paralyzed. I thought about all the shit I witnessed as a child, the times I was expected to be the adult, how I wanted to solve my parents’ problems but I didn’t know how and suddenly a book popped into my head. The Things They Carried was a book I had to read for my English class in high school. God, I hated that book. I didn’t know I hated the book until I reached the end. Some of the stories were intriguing: all the perspectives of different US soldiers fighting in Vietnam, the author was gifted but then I found out that these tales were a work of fiction. Or rather fragments were real and some weren’t. I felt fucking betrayed. I was livid. I was a very angry teenager as it was. Upon finding out this book was a fraud, I wanted to throw the book out the window like Bradley Cooper did in Silver Linings Playbook when he too found himself disappointed with a book’s ending.

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