I woke up in the middle of the night, a scream threatening to tear me apart from the inside out.
I could feel the sweat dripping down my face, my heart pounding as the last bit of a nightmare drifted off. It might be gone, but the aftereffects will last for the next few hours.
Scared to fall back asleep just in case it managed to find me again, I disappeared into my space, needing time to put myself back together.
It was hard exposing yourself by talking about things you knew were rotting wounds. Most people, especially those who had never experienced those nightmares, think the best way to heal was to talk about it.
