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For months I HATED nighttime. The thought of having to close my eyes alone scared me. I have always expected a lot of myself and have been hard on myself to reach certain goals or perfection, if attainable. One of my hardest fights these last few months is making the transfer of always being hard on myself to trying my best to give myself deserved credit, even if my self expectations aren't met how and when I wanted them to be.

For the first 3 1/2 - 4 months I'd have nightly nightmares. There's a few recurring nightmares I can't handle. One of them is hearing Kayli scream, "Help us! Help us please!" just like she was that night (calls can be heard on our news link). Except we're in the basement and can't get out. Another one is him coming in my window & it feels like I'm right back on my bed, feeling paralyzed from fear. Sometimes they were so bad it would literally feel like I was there and take awhile for me to realize I was safe.

After a few weeks of PTSD therapy, I have noticed my nightmares were no longer waking me up. UNTIL last night. At 1:02 my screaming woke me up. I was sitting straight up scream/crying "No!" He was kneeling on top of me, trying to hold me down with one hand while he tried to stab me with his other. I woke up and knew he wasn't physically there, but the fear didn't go away. I wrapped my shaking arms around my legs, curled up in a ball and sat in the corner made by my bed and wall.

Being too hard on myself and expecting myself to "be over it" or "move on" without bothering others kept me from calling my parents or waking up Kayli. A. I didn't want to scare my parents by calling them in the middle of the night, because I knew that phone call would remind them of the phone call they received around the same time 7 months ago. I didn't want to wake Kayli (if you know our story, you now understand her waking up that night was a complete MIRACLE). B. I hate feeling like a burden or admitting I need help. So, I sat in my corner curled up and scared until I decided to text my dad. Literally the second after I texted him he was calling me.

I answered the phone bawling trying to get the words, "I'm okay, I'm just scared." out. He talked to me until I calmed down. Sleeping in a bedroom again is a fairly new thing for me. So, I made him talk to me until I got to the couch in our family room and settled down. We talked, like always he made me laugh and after about an hour I was finally able to relax enough to open a book and read until I naturally fell asleep.

Moral of the story: It is OKAY if you need help. There are NO set expectations on the timing of healing. Everyone is different. Every fight is different. I have to relearn this lesson every day, so if you're like me and are continually having to remind yourself or be reminded to be more loving and patient with your progress, you're not alone.

Sometimes (or all the time if you're like me) our pride has to be set aside to be proud and when we're proud we progress.

Let others share their Love&Punches.

Keep Fighting.