Stay please -
the nights are long without you.
These brief moments before departure feel inadequate
to calm the loneliness, I feel,
the body aching for embrace,
those strips of steel that fasten
me together, like a locket long worn.
Beautiful despite decay - worn finishings.
I've always needed you -
that old cliche remains true.
Some things never change.
Mayhaps evolving, adapting,
this long metamorphosis where
we grew up. Children no more.
The truth is, I have always loved you
somehow, in some way. Love
looks different as we age.
The beat of my heart
is the constancy, assurance.
I will wait til these nights
once become days again.
Softly, whispering, stay...
while you go, knowing one day
you will return to me.
My therapist has said it a couple times now, but I'm pretty sure I didn't want to hear it. A possibility? Sure. Confirmed diagnosis? I don't think so. Slow down there for a second. Yet, as this time of year rolls around again - the family holidays and what not - I know deep down she is right. I have Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. It's odd and yet liberating to say those words to myself let alone others. I have PTSD, and the traumatic events/time period is from almost exactly ten years ago. How can something from ten years ago still be messing with my brain? Perhaps, that may not seem odd to others, having their trauma affect their day-to-day life and demeanor, but I also thought my struggles were mostly, if not entirely, from my already established mental illnesses, depression and anxiety. Yet, it makes sense that all of these intertwine themselves together. I had depression and anxiety before that time period, but the increased symptoms and struggle around this...
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