Seven is a year... a year that has remained shut.
The door is dark and foreboding... a door that does not want to open... a door that will resist prying hands.
Whispers drift from cracks around its edges. And if I listen too carefully, I can be drawn in... trapped in hopelessness and despair. And that despair can become rage.
Some day I will have to open this door...
"a year that has remained shut" - for me, as I read this, it resonates with disassociation from the pain...just can't open that door because the pain is too much, and it will give way to anger. Thank you for sharing this. I get it.
:thumbup: RiverRabbit, you've really captured in a few short sentences why we lock away our trauma. I love the line "Whispers drift from cracks around its edges" - exactly what it's like for me and I'm sure many here.
Yes, that line hit me right in the feels....
Thanks for reading this.
I felt like I needed to write about what I could not (refused to) remember... and how it seemed so overwhelming.
I did finally open the door... see my DID posts regarding this if you like.
DID Post - https://cptsd.org/forum/index.php?topic=13618.0 (https://cptsd.org/forum/index.php?topic=13618.0)
Recovered moment - https://cptsd.org/forum/index.php?topic=13625.0 (https://cptsd.org/forum/index.php?topic=13625.0)