Beast in the Wind

The betrayal comes from my very own mind. I’m not sure when the trojan horse snuck its way inside but the intruders are quickly spilling into the depths and rearranging all my carefully placed furniture. I’ve never been crazy before, not like this, not without a reason. I’ve never feared losing it all completely, but something is different now.

I’ve flirted with madness, snuck a few of his cigarettes but these brief interactions were always somewhat respectful one-night stands, everyone returning to their assigned places once the sun began to rise again. The rules have changed.

How can I convey this betrayal? Working stubbornly day in and day out for an entire decade, rewiring my traumatised and broken neuronal pathways into something that finally resembled health. Fighting every battle tooth and nail, learning about the brain, trauma, relational templates, owning my shit and working to sort it all into neat functional piles.

Then there was a year of respite and feeling like I’d achieved something, ups and downs like life usually throws at one with a bandaged brain but I could function, push my own boundaries, advocate for others and try to mend the broken system that almost broke me. I did massive work, a huge chunk of my life’s work, faced up to myself and even to 2600 people when I spoke my truth at the 2018 Trauma Conference. I kicked butt and took business cards.

But then, without warning, the shadows began looming over me on their approach. A flittering in the corners of my vision and the curtain began to lift. I don’t know how to talk about this, I am so utterly ashamed. I’ve always been broken but never into these kinds of pieces.

The closest thing I can compare it to is the wind, where does it begin? how does it buffet so inconsistent and unexpectedly? How do we pre-empt an invisible gale or know when a breeze is just a breeze. How can I ask anyone else to understand when I can’t even understand it myself? The rug, the foundation, the building blocks of the world turned upside down and inside out. I’m grieving what once was and I have no idea how to navigate this alien terrain.

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