The memories eat away at me.

Embedded in my mind but also my soul.

Moments that marked me so deeply I sometimes check my body for actual bruises.

These memories have been with me almost my whole life.

Usually, I’m good.

I’ve done the work.

I’ve accepted and healed.

Mostly.

The wounds are still there. They live inside me, scabbed and scarred.

Seemingly healed.

Until I move wrong and they open again.

Then I bleed.

Fresh, new, deep red blood.

I am a child again, my innocence disrupted. 

My heart beating behind my eyes, the panic, the pain, the shame, and the terror.

I dress the wounds fast and expertly. 

But they are still there, the memories eating away at me. 

Acid on my soul.

Swirling thoughts descend from my mind.

They knock me off my center. I start to fall but my body reels, and I am lifted into the air.

Weightless, I am spinning about the Sky. The wind in my mind is pulling me.

My being is unhinged.

My heart beats wildly. I feel I am going mad.

I can’t touch a single thought long enough to form it, just bits of emotion floating around pelting me. 

I reach out, grasping for a fixed point, and miss every time.

Closing my eyes I hope for the best but expect the worst.

Please don’t let me crash.

Please, this time, set me down gently.

With tears and my heart beating too fast, I brace for the fall.

The Sun shines through my window. I am pacing.

The cat bathing in the light stares at me. 

My heart is beating wildly, and there is weight on my skull.

I am overwhelmed. I need to go.

I open the door and reel. There is too much out there.

I am jealous of the lady walking her dogs. I hide inside and stare out the window.

Deep breaths. I look at my running shoes. My escape plan.

I quickly change my clothes before I change my mind.

I step out,  the air is cold and I run into the wind.

The tears come. Falling off my face and drying tightly on my cheeks over and over.

Painful realizations slam into me. Thoughts, like bullets, shoot through my brain.

The deep heartache pinches my soul, moving rhythmically, never stopping, covering my whole being.

The floodgate is open. My failings and hurts bubble up and I am crumbling. 

I pause on the road and look at the sun casting shadows.

Unworthy, alone, and unloved. That is where I live.

I am not allowed in the light. I do not live in anyone’s heart.

I turn around and head home.

There is nothing left for me to do but crawl into bed and endure.

The darkness of my mind.

Alone.

I was running to the light, against the wind

Pushing forward, looking for a way into the Sun.

Blown backward, I lost my breath and my will.

I sat down in the darkness and wept.

The quiet hush of Winter surrounds my life.

I feel invisible.

I wander around my home, touching things to ground me and assure myself I exist.

I am cold, down to my bones.

In those moments, I desperately long for the warmth of the Sun on my body.

I look out the window into the gray and think of hot sand on my skin.

The sounds of Water and laughter and the taste of summer fruit in the heat.

The Wind blows outside, spinning the tops of snowbanks into the Air and I am sharply aware of the depth of my cold.

Home. I am lonely, quiet, and alone. Inside, the silence is loud, and thoughts are unrelentingly assaulting my brain. Outside, the noise of life moving is too overwhelming and hurts my ears.

On the trail, running. Concentrating on my footfalls, I try to run down the thoughts in my head. I’m sweating and breathing. The sky is beautiful, blue, and full of pure white clouds. The woods, starting to steam from the summer heat, smell of Earth and damp. It is comforting. 

I drive slow. I listen intently to the classical music coming from the car radio. Music often hurts, lyrics are too much, but silence is deafening.

I’m standing on one foot, looking in the refrigerator and cupboards.

I’m not actually hungry. I never am anymore. Food is tasteless. I take some bites anyway.

Kneeling on the bathroom floor. I am pleading with myself to keep the food in, keep it down. My body ignores my pleas.

The pain of retching, the burning in my throat. Tears in my eyes from the violence of it all.

I’m shaky and broken. I suffer in my sickness, in a deep hole of despair.

My heartbeat is too loud.

I’m not sure if I’m breathing.

All my thoughts begin to swirl and mix.

Spinning, I am no longer anchored to the Earth.

I lay on my back.

The pain washes over me again and again.

There is a smothering heaviness in my chest.

I am soul-dark and heartbroken.

With seemingly no end to the onslaught of my hurt, I pray for death.

My skin is burning.  I want to peel it from my bones.

I want to slash and stab all the soft fleshy places on my body.

I want to pull my hair from its roots. I want to bleed.

I want it to end. I want out.

I want silence and a reprieve.

No more light, no more dark.

No more pain. I don’t want to feel.

Depression breaks my brain wide open and I become undone.