I don’t know how to feel. Numb has been the ruler of the day.
Last night wasn’t good despite a sleeping tablet. I woke often in a nightmare, thinking I was elsewhere, thinking someone was near the bed or outside the ranch slider. Always a threatening presence.
I’m so tired today. I sleep on and off. Losing time. Consider things to do, but never get anywhere. My mind floats to the dark places, but then a numbness takes hold. Then a tiredness envelopes me and I drift off. That is my pattern for the day. The threat of a headache pulses at my brain, which will turn into a migraine. It’s the stress and the unrelenting tapping of suppressed pain and memories that want acknowledgement. I have a pill for that too.
The sky looks blue from my window and I can hear the cicadas, but I’m so cold. I wrap myself up tightly in my quilt.
A door creaks, or a truck outside makes a noise and I jump. I’m fearful of the slightest noise. But my trusty dog is here. If he doesn’t flinch – neither should I.
So this numbness. My body has chosen it’s defence mechanism. I know I should probably be screaming and crying and banging the walls, sobbing into a pillow, doing something? But I’ve never been allowed to show emotion before. It’s always been a weakness. And I’ve never been comfortable with it either.
I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. So I will lie here and sleep. Or stare at the ceiling. I don’t want the memories. I don’t want the pain. I don’t want the tears or the talking.
Tomorrow I will remember how the next day (20 years ago) I went to the clinic, but tomorrow I have my psychiatrist appointment so there won’t be time to lie in bed, although I anticipate the same numbness.
I just want to feel normal again.
I don’t want to get stuck.