I woke up at 3. Shaking, not being able to catch my breath. The vivid remnant of nightmares clinging to me like webbing.

I can still see the house I was in, ransacked, ripped apart. Daylight coming through the cracks in the window coverings, dust drifting through the air. Stale smell of inhabitants long gone – desperately trying to hide things like pictures and journals for safe keeping. Things that prove I existed. Knowing with certainty the zombies were coming. Coming to consume me as they had the things and people around me.

Pain singing through the areas of my body that in waking time is my reality. Only here the wounds are visible, bruising, blood, oozing disease dripping from the bandages.

In this dream I am aware I’ve been battling a long time. I feel my child is still alive in this wasteland. I am hiding these things for her. With hope she finds them, a record of the loving normalcy we had lived.

The exhaustion running deeply, the fear that I am loosing the battles, the outer and the inner.

Waking up, I felt nauseous, unable to shake the fear. My shoulder burning, my knee locked in a useless position. My mind racing to what the todays doctor appointment will reveal.

The deep disappointment of still living with the threat of illness, loss of income in a situation I can’t control. At the mercy of ‘the people out there’. The dream very much a mirror of how the constant hammer of daily life is chipping away at me.

So I am awake. Sitting in the dark of my living room. The sounds of my house humming along as it does at the witching our, the furnace and fridge, low buzzing filling the space. The cat crunching kibble, the puppy sighing and shifting in her blissful sleep. Not affected by the webbing of my dream, the anxiety monsters poking at me.

Me knowing in a matter of hours the people in this house will be up, navigating another day.

Still a slight shake of my hands. The paranoia that I may still yet disappear.

Trying to find, deep down inside the fortitude to face today. Another day of worrisome news, the hard to shake disappointment in humanity. Quick mental math, acknowledging the numbers out there vs the risk of leaving the house.

I must shake this off. I have people to care for. A job to do. Clients to treat, a class to lead. A child to parent. A partner to provide balance too. Friends to support and encourage. A life to live.

It was just a dream. Right?