Its 1a.m. and I just had one of the worst nightmares I’ve had in a long time.

You got up out of bed and started banging around in the kitchen. You came back into the bedroom and started talking. About what, I’m not sure. Then you said that you were going down the hill to ride. I tried to talk you out of it, saying that because it was so late, it probably wasn’t a good idea. You agreed and said you were coming back to bed. The next thing I knew, you were out in the backyard riding Candy around.

The yard was very overgrown, around and over the pool. You couldn’t even tell where the short block wall was. You almost rode Candy into the pool. You jumped off and ran, yes RAN down the hill. I stood up here watching you. Then the pony was over in a corner of the yard. She had apparently found a set of heavy-duty clippers you had left out (heaven knows how long) and had turned them on. She kept trying to pick them up in her mouth, but the vibration kept spooking her. I chased her away and tried to put them back in their weathered box.

You came up and got mad at me for messing with your clippers and trying to control how you lived. I tried to get you back into the house, but you kept running around and screaming at the neighbors. The neighbors were having a party. Every moment, more and more of the party kept appearing in our back yard. You were screaming your head off, and the party-goers were looking at each other as if saying, “Who’s the crazy lady?”. I couldn’t tell what was wrong with you. I kept saying that she’s never acted this way before. I kept thinking that it was some kind of weird hormonal imbalance.

You ran into the house, and the party-people starting looking much younger. Early 20’s and late teens. Smoking ‘n drinking. The music was loud. I went into the house and found you in the bathroom, puking yer guts out. A couple of the punks were in there with you. Now I started ranting…

“You are NOT leaving this room until I’m finished, and I’m FAR from finished!”

You were sitting on the floor next to the tub. I got down in your face…

“What is WRONG with you?”, I yelled. “You act like you’re on drugs!”

Right then you gave me such a look of innocence, I knew that was it.

“What have you been taking?” One of the punks sitting next to you, the one that had a small sheet of blue translucent plastic over his face said that he’d given you (something I can’t remember) which was the active ingredient in Nyquil. I grabbed his face like a basketball player holds a ball one-handed, and shoved him out of the bathroom.

I couldn’t fathom how they’d talked you into taking something. I was helpless to control the situation. You were stoned, and completely out of control. There were young people all over the house. I was fit to be tied.

I woke up.