Short story, Un-Fuc*ing my mind 5, c-PTSD

Whoa, so many memories flooding my mind. So many feelings going through me. It is a struggle just to write about, yet freeing at the same time. I wanted to drink today. I did not want to feel any of this. I wanted to delete the emotions that I just regurgitated into words on to a piece of paper. But, I didn’t, I didn’t set fire to my journal and I did not drink. I leaned into the pain. When it stung too much, I reached out to a friend for some help with my project. I find that I am having a very hard time writing out my memories. My emotions spring into overload. It stings, mostly I just feel vulnerable. I realize that I am purging on the inside now. I have already got rid of my belongings to move into this tiny home of mine. There is no room for all this shit I have buried inside my mind either. I need the space for new memories. I had no idea what I would write about when I started this journey. I started a blog and imagined that I would be writing all about all of my grand adventures and how pretty everything is.
I write in my journal every morning. I try to get rid of all the free radicals that flood my thoughts.

I decided to go ahead and publish some of it. It’s the ugly part of healing, c-PTSD ,the ugliness that still creeps into my mind and causes doubt anxiety and fear. Doubt about how I really feel, usually a drink would fix that. Pour a glass of wine and tell myself “shit happens, it’s the past and you’re fine.” I want to justify numbing the uncomfortable feeling this shit brings. I want to crack a joke about it and move on to writing something pretty. Obviously that doesn’t work, I’ve done that for years and yet, here you are. you fucking little demon back to haunt me. I I don’t want to keep having nightmares. I don’t want to be out here alone planning road trips and trying to ignore this fucked up past that keeps following me around. I don’t really want to deal with it either. I want to ignore it, something I learned to do at a very young age. Turn my ugly reality into something pretty in my mind. Find a distraction, ignore it and find something to help ease the pain. Today, I told myself “lean the fuck in”, So, I am putting it out there, as it comes. Messy and unorganized. These memories are coming in waves. Layers of waves that seem to break like glass on the shores of my mind. Pieces scattered everywhere.

I allowed myself some time to fall apart and cry. I waited until I felt better today, then decided to post what I have written. What the fuck do I have to lose? My mind? I hope so… parts of it anyway.

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