storytimewithjoe | A Dark, Dark Tale of Dark Domestic Darkness

T’is a dark secret that I have to share with you today. Dark, dark, dark, really dark… so dark that little Goth children everywhere might all say, “Wow… that’s TOO dark.” You see… my hubby and I are both victims of a form of domestic violence. (Cue really dark music here – like “The Best of the Carpenters” played backward or something.)

I first became aware of the cycle-of-violence a few years back. My husbear suffers from very bad sleep apnea. And before the days of the CPAP, he was having a terrible time staying asleep and used to snore so badly that he was shaking the house off of the foundation. But worse than the snoring was when he would STOP snoring. That was when his heart stopped. And as the adrenaline shot into his heart, he would suddenly jerk with his whole body, as he gasped for breath. Trust me, this was never a pleasant experience. But over time, it got worse. One night in particular, he had one of these episodes, and his entire body jerked violently. How do I know? Because he swung his hand out where it made contact right across my right eye. “OW!!!!!” I awoke. “WhaddidIdo? WhaddidIdo? WhaddidIdooooooo???????” I must have sounded much like a trailer-trash-wife at Sunday confessional on my way back home prior to my stop for Blue Bell ice cream at the local Piggly-Wiggly. Needless to say, that was when I… ehem… “STRONGLY SUGGESTED” that he go in for a sleep test.

Yet, I am darkly ashamed to admit, I too contribute to the cycle. Take last night for instance. There I was, deep asleep. And in my dreams, I was in the midst of an adventure. With my helpful friends, the elves, the dwarfs, and other sundry creatures, we were on a wild quest. There, at the back of the cave, I moved my torch forward (cuz we ALL carry torches in quest dreams, right?) to see a large doorway blocking our path. When I pushed, the door would not budge. Also, the latch would not work. Even worse, my magic key would not work (which annoyed me to no end. I mean, why even HAVE a magic key if it doesn’t work??????). So naturally, I decided to kick it down. I kicked, and I kicked, and I kicked with all my might… at least I did until my husband woke me up pleading with me to stop kicking him.

OOPS!!!!!!! My bad. Sorry honey… um… I thought you were a door. And the damned magic key wouldn’t work! And um, uh… Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz…

Domestic Violence is an ugly and terrible thing. Oh, and dark. Very dark.

What do y’all think? Should we seek help?