Lying here staring at nothing;
Am I afraid to sleep,
Or is it the waking I fear?
This journey I've begun
Is one that I know I must take,
But where do I go from here?
Do I start with what is the freshest
And work my way back
Through the pain?
Or do I start at the beginning,
Wherever THAT is,
And find my way back here again?
Why does my memory betray me,
Why has it locked things inside?
Telling me this is 'normal'
Doesn't help the agony subside.
I stumble through the maze of yesterday,
But still have to deal with
The here and the now.
I am the mother, the sole caretaker,
And I have to hold it all together
Somehow.
"Mommy, I peed my pants,"
"Mommy I skinned my knee,"
Or "Mommy, what if, instead of getting better,
Things get worse?"
These are things I can't ignore.
But what in the world
Am I supposed to do
When a flashback hits
And I crumble to bits
Shaking in a fetal position on the floor?
I try to grab my soul
By the scruff of the neck
And yank myself back
To the present.
"This is a process," they say,
It gets easier with time."
Yeah, well, so far it hasn't.
Why can't I command
My mind to be still?
Why can't I shut off
The memories at will?
Telling me that thousands of others
With PTSD feel the same
Doesn't help me all that much,
But hey, at least now I have a name
For the terror that bombards me
With very little warning
When I struggle through the night
And force myself to face the morning.
When will I feel human again?
When will I feel SOME emotion?
I'm completely numb,
Lost and alone;
Drowning in an ocean
Of splinters and fragments of things.
I'm carried along by the rushing tide
Of disconnected fear.
My body responds of its own accord
As though I am actually there;
The pain is so clear ...
How I dread what each memory brings.
I cry out, "Dear God, was it not enough
That I went through it then?
Why must you torture me further
By making me feel it again?"
It's like playing some cruel matching game;
Which image goes with which sensation?
When did this or that happen,
I'm exhausted from the sheer frustration.
How is it that I have been reduced
To this pathetic, cowering mess?
I'm tempted to stuff it all
Back where it was before,
But I know it must eventually be addressed.
"It takes courage to heal,
It takes time to process pain."
Well-intentioned professional opinions,
All sound pretty much the same.
I'm fresh out of courage,
And I don't have much time.
Remember, I'm the "stable" parent,
And I MUST stay in my 'right mind.'
I need to get on with my life.
I'm sick of all this digging and poking.
Whatever is there won't go anywhere,
I've had just about enough -- and I'm not joking!
Isn't there a pill somewhere
That will make it all go away?
I know, wishful thinking I suppose,
But it was worth a shot anyway.
I know that God is with me;
I've seen Him answer prayer.
I don't doubt His presence --
I'm so thankful that He's there ...
But that being said,
He can't reach out and hold me
He can't stop me from shaking
Or remind me or scold me
For forgetting to eat
Or looking right through
Half the people I meet.
Do my eyes look as vacant
And lost as I feel?
Please, God, say that I'm not
"Losing it" for real.
The funny thing is,
I know I'm 'just fine.'
My faculties are there;
I'm in my 'right mind.'
Which actually sometimes
Only makes it feel worse;
The clarity of thought
Is in some ways a curse.
Not that I'd ever consider it,
But I understand why some do drugs
When the pain becomes unbearable
And it's WEEKS between hugs.
What's hardest sometimes is wondering
If the people who seem to really care
Actually do, or if it's 'just their job,'
I guess I shouldn't go there.
But it's hard not to second-guess
People's motives for doing and saying
The things that they do
When you've been told many times
"You're not worth a prayer,
so stop praying."
Well, I hate to ruin your day,
But praying's the one thing
I'm not giving up on ...
Call me stubborn,
Call me stupid,
But it's what I was brought up on.
It may seem illogical
It may seem irrational
It may seem implausible
It may seem inconceivable.
But I know a great God
Who does mighty things
When His people come before Him
And humbly bow in prayer.
So, bring on the nightmares,
The flashbacks and such ...
Now that I think about it,
They don't scare me quite as much,
For I know my Savior's there.
He is with me in the darkness,
He understands like no one else;
He knows what it means to suffer
Since He went through hell himself.
He will calm my wounded spirit;
He will walk me through each day.
He'll remind me that together
We can take whatever comes our way.
And miracle of miracles,
My eyes are getting heavy ...
So what am I waiting for?
Let's get some sleep already!
