This is an open letter to others in the Senate as well as to the public: I am taking a short leave of absence from my duties as Senator to rest. I've been having a few issues with insomnia and night terrors recently, and it's beginning to affect my ability to work during the day. I simply do not feel comfortable working on American policy-making when I am not at my mental best - it wouldn't be fair to my co-workers, it wouldn't be fair to the God-fearing people of this great nation, and it wouldn't be fair to me or to my family.
Normally, I wouldn't mention something so personal here, but the wife said it might be a good idea to get my feelings out on the subject on this blog. This is not an easy thing for me to do, but she insisted. She is a trained psychiatric nurse after all, or was in her younger days, and I trust her implicitly. How could I not trust my best friend, and the love of my life, after 25 years together?
I believe it first started with the night terrors. Every night since Ozzy's death I've been having them, and they're always the same. I'm in the woods, alone, and it's ablaze with fire. I'm running, always running... and behind me is that wolf, "The Watchdog", as Ozzy's drawing called it. It snarls and growls, hissing blasphemous words as it chases me. It calls me a sinner, it calls me a monster and a killer... and its eyes. God, there are so many eyes, all red, all watching and staring, all focused on me... violating me down to my soul. They never once blink, they never once look away...
They are not human eyes. I am convinced, they are the eyes of Lucifer himself, and that the Watchdog is a demon he's sent to torment me and test my faith.
The Watchdog chases me into a dead end, surrounded by flaming trees, everything burning. It's so real I can feel the heat from the inferno, sweltering, and feel the sweat drip from my shaken body. I'm backed into a corner by the beast, and that's when I notice the heavy iron chain it wears. It never had one before, but it does now... I trace the chain with my eyes, and there I see the angel, the tall angel in the porcelain mask and black robe. It is holding the Watchdog's chain taut, keeping it back from me. Protecting me. It gazes into me, through me, scrutinizing... and that is when its gaze turns dark. It exclaims one word only - Sinner - and then releases the Watchdog. I beg it, I beg it not to... and nothing changes the dream one bit. It always ends with the Watchdog tearing me apart, tearing me to bloody ribbons...
Needless to say, I have been trying very hard not to sleep these days. I can't take the nightmares anymore, and it's starting to affect my waking life. I haven't slept in 48 hours and I feel like absolute hell. I'm actually starting to see and hear things - trees that appear to bleed, eyes opening in the walls to stare at me, the sound of a dog barking in the distance... It's getting out of hand. I need sleep, but...
I am beginning to fear I have offended God. Why else would He send me such a dream in which I die, constantly, after being chased by a demon that his own angel refuses to protect me from? Why else would he punish me like this? Clearly I am going down a horribly incorrect path, and He is trying to save me from going further...
Perhaps it is time I reconnect with the LORD. My church attendance has unfortunately been lax lately due to business reasons, and I am sure my Pastor may have some idea of how to interpret what is happening to me. I trust Father Wilson, I would trust him with my own life even if I didn't already trust him with my immortal soul...
That settles it, then. I will go, on my own, to the church and speak with the Pastor. I will resume nightly prayer for guidance. My soul is on the line, and I above all else should know better than to have let myself stray so far from His flock...
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