When I write
When I write, I am almost free. It is more me than anything.
I am unsure what will happen in the end of February, the beginning of March.
Once upon a time I remember reflecting on March, and thinking it was something interesting, named for the Roman god of war, Mars.
Maybe my war will be over.
Today I feel a great ache in my being. I have been tearful all day. I may be healing or I may not be, I cant even fully tell- but my sense is that I may be healing.
My loneliness has been stifling.
My own appearance in the mirror sometimes alarms me. My eyes look as though I have seen hell.
I actually am rather certain when people see me on the street or in a store( the few times I am there) they are perplexed by me, mildly afraid even, or critical, sometimes gentle, at seeing someone they don’t understand. I’d be afraid if I saw me too. They can sense I am extremely damaged. If I was healthy, and I saw me, I think I’d feel traumatized by mere observing.
This cant go on forever. I feel so very afraid my mind is going to fall apart and I am going to be eternally unable to heal. I am so afraid I am going to end up never reclaiming my life. I am so afraid.
The truth is, If I cant be honest here, I cant be honest anywhere and I am doomed as I think I am. I choose to be honest here.
I am terrified.
There has not been a moment in the last 7 months that I was not terrified. I am terrified as I type right this second. I am terrified.
Friends that I love don’t know I care because I have been too ill to see them and too dysfunctional to reach out.
My family, particularly my parents are traumatized by having a daughter that has suffered so intensely for so long and they have had to endure my fits of rage and misery.
My soul is aching and the answers are as invisible as anything hidden in the night. I did not think it was possible to suffer this much, lose this much and feel this afraid.
I want this war to be over.
I judge myself so much for looking like hell, but I need to be compassionate with myself because I have been in hell. I will come out burned and in ashes.
I wont heal perfectly, there will be scars, I will be shaken for life, I will not be the same person.
I have to be compassionate on the part of me left.
People around me are living, functioning, fulfilling dreams, a childhood friend and close friend I met in high school are getting married. I am very happy for them, but I realize I have had a response of ache– because many of my dreams are permanently gone and I am struggling for the most basic parts of myself, my mind and body.
I am afraid.
I don’t know where this picture was taken. I found it on Google images, night sky pictures. Its beautiful. If I could give a image for the word, “comfort” it would be this one. I don’t know why.