Yes, this is my life

No matter how far I come in my waking hours it's always my dreams that remind me how far I have to go. Last night in my dream I was in the car with the kids. I was speeding down a windy road but I wasn't going forward. I was going in reverse. I was doing my best to avoid oncoming traffic knowing full well the danger we were in. I couldn't change the direction of my car and was accelerating by the second. The next thing I knew I was blasted in the back of my head. I saw stars. I went blind for a few seconds. I remember telling myself I had to stay conscious. I had to remain calm and awake to protect the kids. I asked them in my daze did they hit me. They all said no. They were ok. It was only me who had been hit. It made no sense and caused more panic. The pain was excruciating. I was the only adult in the car. No one was there to take the wheel. I fought the loss of consciousness. Everything went black and I woke up.... When I began to calm down I asessed the dream and k...

E Tu Brute?! In mythology Ceasar and his wife both woke the morning of March 15th with dread. Both suffering nightmares through their slumber. It's said that his wife begged him to stay home that day. She had a gut feeling that something bad would happen I'd he left. He left anyway and she was right. He did not come home again. I think it was Shakespeare who coined the phrase Beware, The Ides of March! And E Tu Brute!? The story goes that he was rushed by several towns people one being his best friend Brutus. In the story his last words were that of disappointment to see he was participating in his own murder. Betrayal. Heartbreak. He was stabbed 22 times by the men and once by his closest confidant. 22+1 (that's ironically the vet suicide rate reported) I woke today from a terrible dream. In my dream Mike reappeared. Told me he had a girlfriend and no intentions of remaining a part of my life or our children. I was crushed and mad. I screamed at him until my throat was...

I've come to accept my reality. I have made peace with Mike's death. After nearly three years though, I constantly relive the night he died. I go over every detail leading up to his death. I wonder if there was something I overlooked. Could I have stopped the events from unfolding? Had my choices that night been different would he be here today? I remind myself that it was God's will and Mike's, I had little control. When he said "you called the fucking cops?!" Did he feel I  gave him no other option? Did he feel I backed him into a corner? Had I not called 911 would he still be alive? Would he have unloaded the rifle and put it away? Did my gut instinct to protect the family push him past the point of no return? I beat myself up daily, in my mind. Mulling these things over and I always come to the same conclusion.... That night, for the first time in 20 years I didn't care what he did to me or himself but I was not going to let him harm our family. My k...