And Life Keeps Going

I’m still fucked up in ways most people can’t imagine. I am multiple people and nobody knows or sees the full me. Nobody would want to; if this shocks you then you may know some of that, but if this doesn’t shock you then you don’t want to hear any part of that. I’m sure that made zero sense, but let’s just say I’d be giving everyone a good plot twist if my life was a movie. I still have bad dreams and panic attacks. I still feel alone most of the time and terribly misunderstood. I desperately want to feel safe, but trust no one and nothing. Everything I see and hear is up for scrutiny. Nothing is as simple as it probably should be………

This is a box. ~But what are you hiding in that box? Where was that box taken from? Why does one wall of that box seem like a different color? If it’s empty, what are you going to stuff into it? And when? Why do you want me to believe it’s just a box?

DO YOU SEE MY ISSUES WITH LIFE?

The other night I dreamt he was standing behind me at my left shoulder and I don’t remember what he was bitching about. But I remember that familiar feeling of don’t move, don’t react, don’t look scared, don’t look zoned out, don’t jump. My son later that same day told me that he dreamt his darling step dad was in the house, not saying a word, just walking around. I said that’s weird because I had a dream about him last night as well. Within the hour he showed up on my missed call list. He hasn’t texted or called in a month. My son said “mom, are you sure he doesn’t have a microphone in here somewhere?” What can I realistically say? “No, I can’t be sure because if I thought of it then he thought of it months ago.”

I don’t know if the bigger demons live within me or outside of me anymore.