[“It
was the divine soul embracing mine. I never before dreamed what love meant: not
what life meant. Never was alive before — no words but those of “new birth” can
hint the meaning of what then happened to me.] [“..it must be so — my love
rises up out of the very depths of the grief & tramples upon despair. I can
wait — any time, a lifetime, many lifetimes — I can suffer, I can dare, I can
learn, grow, toil, but nothing in life or death can tear out of my heart the
passionate belief that one day I shall hear that voice say to me, “My Mate. The
one I so much want…]
Anne
Gilchrist wrote to Walt Whitman in 1870
PTSD
is a an inventory of things you ignored. A troupe of shrapnels stabbing you out
of the blue. It's
a list of things that wrapped you around
Letting
yourself completely, incomprehensibly be one with something, something bigger
than yourself, configuring to the messiest parts of it, is one of the scariest,
basest, bravest things you would ever do to your self.
Worst,
if you go through the breath stopping and I mean literal breathless variety of
it – where you are scared to go to bed because you know your heart is now ready
to shut down your body the minute you let your controls flex.
So
you hang on to the sides of the cliff with your exhausted bloody hands, with winds
encircling you, enticing you to let go – same winds which carried you when you
first jumped, full beneath your wings. Is it because you are/were in love? Or
you so brutally wrenched it out of you? Didn't you make sure to block it? Suffocated it into a box, buried and threw the key away? What is this –
threatening to rise up to the surface then?
 |
| Photo by Eugene Shelstov from Pexels |
It’s
exhausting. This fight. How do you survive? How does one heal? How does one
forgive? How do I forgive him and myself?
Because
am done… I can’t fight anymore, blindfolded with my hands bloodied on the edge with
nothing but a broken yet stubborn heart?
I can’t breathe and I desperately need
air… it's Time
I have to Heal. Forgive. Get Better.
Happy
Birthday, Dear Girl... You
Shall Get Better, Happier and Radiant
Copyright©Neer