Nothing is ever really forgotten

I turn from one side to the other, trying to stay quiet so I won’t wake you up. Yet another sleepless night, my thoughts like tornadoes swirling in my head. It’s been a while since I’ve had one of these and haven’t missed it.

In the past these were regular nights, unable to fall asleep because of my tormenting thoughts. everywhere hurt, my mind, my bones, my flesh was torn apart. Not to mention the anxiety, the restlessness, the trembling, the inability to stay still. I had to pace around the room for hours, a room that felt worse than a cage, worse than prison. It had become my grave. I couldn’t even live in my own imagination because my mind was filled with the darkest thoughts about putting an end to my entire existence.

I got out and I am glad I did, but after spending so many years in the dark I so got used to it, up to the point of feeling comfort and safety in that place. It’s been years ago, but I still go back at times. And I feel it wrapping me like a velvet veil and it feels… comfortable. And I let it drown me because it feels so familiar and normal…

I get out of bed and walk slowly to the bathroom without opening up the lights. I sit on the side of the bathtub and put my head between my hands. Oh, the soothing pain inside my chest, old scars opening wide, engulfing me! How sick of me to let myself indulge in it!

A truck passes by and the noise wakes me up. I open up my eyes and snap out of it. I look around me and remember where I am and a big weight lifts off my shoulders. I crawl back into bed and wait for the morning to come, a new day to welcome.

Currently, my life is quite abundant and if I wasn’t so easy going I could make it even more glamorous. It is nothing like the grave that was collapsing over me. I am better, way better. So, why do I keep going back?

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