Here I still Am.

I wish I had enough words to describe all of this, to get this out of me, out of my system…. A release of the mind and of the body.  How can I explain that I am happy when I am so dragged down with anxiety and the PTSD all the damn time?  How can I put into words the deafening defeat I feel the majority of the time even when I am clean, even when I am working, even when I look like a real life girl again?

It’s not that he has power over me anymore, it is more a reaction of the physical type.  It is the stress, the fear, the numbness that has a hold of me that sends me shattering to the floor looking for anything, anyway to get all of the feelings out.  And they won’t come out.  They are trapped inside of me as if any sort of release would break me, as if my bones were clinging to the memories in order to just support my body.

In my most peaceful moments, I feel freedom and gratitude for all that I have gone through. All that I have accomplished in such a short time, for all that I have left behind… but none of that stops the attacks, the memories, the triggers and the sadness I feel.  If I had a choice I would be comfortable in my own skin again, and I would call it mine.  I would not notice the scars I gained in my battling; they would no longer be a reminder of what was once a reality.

truth

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