The flashbacks come in different shapes and different sizes.
Some are fleeting visitors, others linger for hours.
Like an eclipse of the sun,
The memory becomes a moon that shadows any memory of the current moment.
Each breath and pulse is breathing and beating,
As though the terror you’re remembering is happening that moment in time. Not the months or years ago that it actually was.
You live, for the length of the flashback, in that historic moment.
And it is horrible.
I sit here afraid, angry and so so sad that I have so many visuals, so many key playing memories and moments to cause havoc to my flashbacking mind. Why so many? Why so many key players in this mix of abuse and key events in this long list of trauma?
I long to be held,
To be told you’re safe,
To shut my eyes and know its okay. To know I won’t see their face. It will just be dreams, it won’t be horrors.
But I can’t be told that, because there’s no one here.
And I can’t tell myself that because I know it not to be true.
I want to sleep. I just want to forget. I want it to go away. I want to have a moment in time I’m not living in the horrors of the past, so vividly and full of such imagery.
My eyes feel the person in them. They ache, they feel pain and are so heavy, you sat right there at the forefront of my mind. At the tip of my tongue sit words I long to say, but out falls nothing but shock or sorrow.
This trauma brings a numbness. This one this moment. Others bring shudders. Others being tears. But all bring terror and fear chilling itself to the bone. And all bring moments a state I would not wish upon anyone.
My eyes long to close and be free from this ache and pain. My mind longs to relax and know its safe. My body longs to feel balance. My soul longs to heal and be seen.
But for now I just need to hold that this will not be forever.
That this is all here to be healed. These memories and moments are here with me now to be heard and released. They are here for my body and soul to feel all the feelings I never was able to feel way back then.
It just is hard to hear that from yourself when you are living in such a haze
I just long for a breath of fresh air. One huge one. And in that I want to FEEL all those memories I have that are full of joy and beauty and FUN. I want those to sit there on my eyelids. I want my mind to be tired from reliving the adventure in my life, not the terror. I want my body to be tired from LIVING my life, not hiding in fear.
Sometimes there are moments when I see myself again. I feel the moment again. The weight of the memory and the face of the person lifts from my eyelids and I’m awake to the world again. But it doesn’t last. The next trauma is waiting in line to be heard and to have its chance to shine.
This is this week. The week of the meds bringing each and every single thing to the surface, each and every moment of the day. And it is terrifying, isolating, and haunting.
But somewhere beneath this sense of loss of time, is a trust that all in fact will ease and improve. Just give it time. These first two weeks are a bitch, as I have always been told.
It’s left me with no choice but to rest and wrap myself within my duvet. To not push myself. To not leave the house if I don’t need to. To not leave my bed if I don’t need to.
These times feel so tender, they feel terrifying, they feel full of angst and worry about where this is going and what new memories it’s bringing up. But I just do somewhere inside feel they will pass.