Another bad dream.
"It came back".
I'm breathing heavy. The panic and adrenaline coursing through my body as I hear the words in my head. Instant thoughts of the kids, of Isaac and my family. Instant thoughts of what things were like the two times before. And instant thoughts of absolute terror and thinking 'oh my God, can I do this a third time' and will I die? Is my body strong enough? Am I mentally strong enough?
Then all of a sudden I'm blinking my eyes open trying to adjust to the dim lighting in the room. I'm realizing I'm in my own bed. I hear the familiar sound of the fan. I hear one of the kids talking in their sleep. I take a deep breath and tell myself it was just a dream. Right?
I'm healthy. I'm happy. I feel as though I have been coping much better and moving forward. So, what is this? Is this anxiety? Is this paranoia? Is this post-traumatic stress. Is this normal? Whatever it is, I just want it gone. I want to forget the fear. I want to just have one full day of not thinking about it or being reminded of it. Is it too much to ask?
I need to breathe deeply. I need to repeat it was just a dream because the reality is just too much to bare and just will not be.
It was just a dream. Only a stupid, stupid dream.