Back in Chicago: Dreams, Guilt, and Finding a Safe Space

Back in Chicago: Dreams, Guilt, and Finding a Safe Space I’ve just returned to Chicago after a long flight home. As I settle back into my new job and routine, it feels like everything is on overdrive. The constant movement and new responsibilities have helped me keep my mind busy, but it doesn’t take away the underlying anxiety that’s been with me since I returned. Last night, after a long time, I dreamt about Sana. But this time, it was different. Instead of the fleeting dreams I’ve had before, this one was long and continuous, spanning the entire night. In the dream, I watched as Sana transitioned from getting better to passing away. It was as if my mind was oscillating between the two possibilities—the hope of recovery and the painful reality of her loss. I’m not sure if it was the jet lag or the effect of the medication, but I don’t remember ever having such a vivid, lengthy dream before. It felt almost real, like I was caught in a timeline, retracing the moments of Sana’s journey from health to illness to the heartbreak of her passing. I know deep down that Maahir’s upcoming celebration is contributing to this emotional turmoil. There’s a sense of guilt that lingers. We’re meant to be celebrating his happiness, yet it feels wrong to do so when we’ve been through so much loss. My subconscious mind is processing this conflict, and it manifests in my dreams. The trip to India, filled with its own fears and anxieties, is now behind me. Coming back to Chicago, to my safe space, should feel like a relief—but it also feels overwhelming in its own way. It’s like I’m trying to hold onto normalcy while my heart still carries the weight of everything that’s happened. Life continues, and we move forward in whatever way we can. I’m learning that grief doesn’t follow a set path. It ebbs and flows, coming in waves at the most unexpected times. But for now, I’m here—trying to process, trying to heal, and finding comfort in the small moments of peace, even as they mix with the sadness I carry in my heart.