Haunted by memories I grasp for you and quickly push you away.
I cannot stomach this closeness yet I desire your touch – crave it – NEED it…
Fear arises as the brush of your hand resurrects ghosts thought long exorcised…
My body trembles, haunted by the abuse that still lives in my skin and in my breast, beating like a second heart.
It is chaos here… shouts, whispers, whimpers, cries…
Locked in the asylum of my mind.
My favorite local kayaking place is Banks Lake in Lakeland, GA. The view is breathtaking and the weather was absolutely perfect today – it was clear and cool and windy. I’m already ready to go again.
I hate days like this… I feel twitchy after spending the last 2 days pulling weeds in my gardens and having bugs crawl all over me… I still feel like I’m going to have a panic attack. I know I should be used to this by now and I know bugs are no big deal, really, but I still cannot help the way I react. I try so hard to play it cool and to stay calm. I have these huge spiders in my flower beds and when you startle them they run toward you – not away from you. It freaks me out. Not to mention the beetles, ants and roaches that live in the taller weeds and thick grasses that I have to deal with. I hate this feeling… everything that touches me makes me flinch. I’m so jumpy. I think I will just sit calmly the rest of the day and sip tea and watch Netflix.
Taken summer 2013 in my front yard on my Passion Flower Vine
OK – well that’s a rather lighthearted title but this is a heavy post… I have unearthed new memories… very vivid ones and they are terrifying me. I feel like I am losing my mind and I don’t know what to do with all of these feelings that threaten to drown me.
***Disclaimer: this may be triggering to some – read with caution***
Here’s what I remember:
I am young (Don’t know what age, exactly) and I am being forced face down onto a soft surface (bed? couch?…) and I am wearing a dress and my panties have been pulled down and I am being raped from behind and I am beyond terror and the weight of the man on top of me pressing me down makes it impossible to breathe…
I feel my heart start to race and my insides twist just remembering this and writing it down feels dangerous… like he’s going to read this and know it’s me and come after me (even though I have protected myself with anonymity in this blog) I am so afraid sometimes. I hear a car door outside and jump and my heart will pound and I’ll have to calm myself down and remind myself that he is not coming after me. Some days I wonder how long will I carry this… and when will the remembering be over finally? I thought I was done with that part and I have made peace with the gaping holes in my memory… but they are determined to surface. I pray this is the last of them. I am ready for this chapter to close and the healing chapter to be in full swing. I know I have made lots of progress and I am proud of the work I have done to get this far. I have worked so very hard to be where I am and I do not want to dismiss that with my desire to be all the way better… and I also do not want to be content here… I know there is more out there for me and I desire and deserve all the wonderful things ahead of me.
I have a love/hate relationship with self-help/personal-growth books… On the one hand it is helpful and gratifying to know that it is possible to make it through the darkness and thrive on the other side of it all… on the other none of them really give you the view from the pit. It’s ugly here and no-one wants to look at it. Many of them give the briefest of descriptions of the ‘dark days’ and then focus on their steps/ideas/practices that got them out of the mess they were in. I want to see the pit… did life feel as despairing & hopeless to them as it does to me most days? Were they breathing in and out through lungs filled with un-heard screams? Was the pit every bit as deep and dark and ugly as it feels to me today? I would like to know the view from the pit… Then I can feel better about my chances of making it out alive.
captivatingbitter 