I’m sitting here, trying my hardest to focus on one memory, any memory, just to get it out in the open. There are scattered pieces, here and there, but no one solid memory comes to mind. I feel like I’m trying to recall a dream and the more I try, the less I remember.

So instead, the best I can do is describe the slivers of what I do know. Maybe one of them will unfold into a full memory. We’ll see.

I feel like the idea of putting this on a blog is so inappropriate, but I take relief from knowing there are very few, if any readers. The only problem is that if I write them anywhere else, for my eyes only, I delete them straight after. I don’t feel like I can do that with this, like I’m somehow accountable once they are posted here. Deleting them puts me back in the same spot I’ve always been, the memories are there, but for only me. I’m so truly sorry for writing these things publicly. I hope you can forgive me.

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I understand the purpose and the benefits of having this gigantic wall around my emotions and memories. I survived because of these mechanisms and they’ve served me well. I need it all taken down now, though, so in comes the wrecking ball.

I have to force myself to do and say things I’ve never dreamed of doing and saying. In counseling a couple of weeks ago, I mentioned I allowed a bad memory to linger instead of instantly pushing it aside with hoards of other daily thoughts. It sauntered in my mind for about 30 seconds, maybe a minute, and left as quickly as it entered. This was okay, there was no dramatic fallout afterwards. She asked me to recount the memory and while I knew specifically what it was, I couldn’t describe it out loud. The more I tried, the more my mind shoved back, tears formed and my throat closed in fear. My brain was working against me, by working diligently for me.  Read the rest of this entry »

My official diagnosis is post-traumatic stress disorder. No surprise there, right? What is a surprise, to me, is that it is getting worse. Which would be why I’m trusting my therapist when she says that shattering the bone into a million pieces will actually make it heal better in the long run. Okay, so maybe those are my words, but replace bone with psyche and you have the image I display when asked to “relive” the memories. Next session will be the first one to discuss an actual memory from my past.

As I’ve mentioned before, most of these memories are neatly tucked away in the darkest recesses of my mind. I’ve lost the catalog files and have no idea how to retrieve them, which is more than okay with me. However, there are a few that refuse to leave me alone and I  fight them on a near daily basis to be gone. I will bring up one of those, since I have no way of keep the little monster in the bag, anyways.  Read the rest of this entry »

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  • My subconscious has developed a rather strong voice in my dreams. I wouldn't mind it so much if 6 am wasn't its alarm. 5 years ago
  • I have got to stop going to bed in the early morning hours. Progress has it's price, it seems. 6 years ago
  • Counseling tomorrow, I hope my mind clears up a bit by then, because right now it's as foggy as it gets. Posted, but not on the Story. 6 years ago