I’m finding it difficult to be here, here in my words, here in my life, here in this world, here in all the ways I could mean.
Everything is raw, like my skin has been ripped off exposing each nerve ending I have. It hurts.
It feels like each loss I have experienced, each grief, each trauma, each abuse, each heartache, each pain has hit me again, new, like I have never known it before, any of it. It hurts.
And I want to add an antidote, a positive to say I’ll be back, I’ll be happy soon, I’ll find my way through, I’ll get there, I’ll be okay (and maybe I will, probably I will), because this is what I always do to make it easier to hear, but it feels like these counteractions to my pain are more for the comfort of others than myself for now.
For now, for me, I feel like all I can do is acknowledge where I am. I’m hurting. I’m raw. I’m depressed. I’m lonely. I’m anxious. I’m traumatised (and re-traumatised). I’m ill. I’m needing so much that I cannot find and feeling too much of my life, a life I tried to forget, a life that demands my attention even when it is too difficult to bear.
So I’m finding it difficult to be here, and that is the best I can do, the best I can say, the best I can be… For now.