The Days That I Die.

Trauma is really a bastard.

I believe strongly in the saying that “time heals all things” but not trauma because it never really goes away. You can push it down your memory, supress it as much you can but all it takes is a trigger to drag you back to those horrible moments.

Triggers are so random and you can’t do anything about it. It could be a lover’s touch, a friend sneaking up on you, a dream, a face, a particular place etc. It could literally be anything and you just sit there dying while breathing.

I remember one time, I had just started seeing this person and they snuck on me in the dark and reached for my breasts. I couldn’t breathe, everything in me went numb and i felt dead (or thought I was going to die) I didn’t know i was crying until I heard their voice and how scared they were. When I slept that night, I had vivid dreams of everything I thought I had forgotten.

It’s been nine solid years since I was sexually abused (this happened consistently for about 7 years) and i have moved so far away from everyone and everything that reminded me of those years. But every day that I wake up, i have to fight. The tears, the panic attacks, the memories, the PTSD.

It’s such a burden dealing with trauma because some days are lighter. You are happy, hopeful, in love, busy with life but on other days, and other days come more often than you’d think. You are stuck in your mind, feeling things that you cannot explain to anyone. Because how do you explain demons from your past? On such days, i die but only to live again.

The thing is, it never gets easier and I don’t think it ever will. How much time do you give yourself to heal? Maybe a lifetime.

But on those days that it doesn’t hurt so much. On those days that I feel alive, I laugh, I remember to look at the sun, I remind myself that I am loved and I tell my self it is a gift because I would need to remind myself of the days I didn’t die when the darkness comes. And surely it will.