I haven’t been able to write for a few days.  I tried but every time I would sit down to write – I became fearful of telling the truth.  And pretending and posting some Sally Sunshine bullshit is just not an option for me here, so I just didn’t write at all. 

Last week was a bad week.  It started on a Sunday night and as the week wore on – my body hurt worse and worse, the nights grew more and more impossible – and  there was nothing in my bag of ‘cope’ that was helping.  I begged and pleaded and cried until I finally gave up and just crawled into a hole somewhere so deep inside of me, I was lost even to myself.

I spent most of last week zoning out and losing focus.  I struggled to even get out of bed and I would avoid food like the plague until my blood sugar would get so low I would be so dizzy I was afraid I would pass out.  Unable to control the ping pong game of the past in my head I tried to just disengage from everything and everyone.  Just do the bare minimum and try to spend as much time as possible disconnected from my body. 

I am unable to speak of exactly what is streaming through my head and then continuing down a path to poison my body, but it has lead to even more food and sleep avoidance.  God – it hurts to feel.  It hurts to remember.  I hate this.  And I have given up trying to fight it.  It’s so exhausting trying to fight the war that has been raging inside of me.

The therapist is back from vacation and I saw her today.  I wanted to talk to her, I did.  But I couldn’t.  I wanted to tell her about the craziness inside my head and my body.  I wanted to tell her about the fear and the pain…but nothing about any of that would come out of my mouth.  Nothing… But it still won’t go away. 

The therapist ‘invited’ me to talk about last week, my thoughts, feelings…anything other than the small chit-chat *coffee shop* talk I chose to engage in.  She even mentioned the body crap that has returned like the neverending Friday the 13th movies…it won’t die!  And I wanted to…I wanted to cry and scream:  Help me! Please help me!  The noise, the dirt, the pain – it won’t go away!  Help!  But  I can’t.  I can’t even write of it here, anonomously, in my “safe space”.  I can’t do it. 

I knew if I opened my mouth to speak that I might perhaps lose what little grip I currently have onto the small thread that is holding me here.  And she knows too much already.  THIS is unspeakable.  Please, please, please, just make it go away.  I feel like I am living in this parallel universe and so much of the time the past gets blurred into the present.  And it affects EVERYTHING!  He is everywhere.  A smell.  A phrase.  An seemingly harmless activity.  A meal.  A movie. Bed time.  I feel haunted. 

I feel small and sick.  I feel worthless and filthy.  I feel silenced, but know I have imprisoned myself by not being able to do this.   I have lost the will to live – but I am still breathing.