(piece me back together…)

 

 “My chest, like glass, shatters into hundreds of tiny shards, piercing its way into my muscles and organs…    then makes its way thru my skin, but not before shredding my memories.” 

  -Friend gave me a book.  A book, like friend, that I can’t read more than 3 pages at a time before getting sick and shutting down. My brain shuts off before I notice and about 20 sentences later I realize I wasnt actually reading the storyline, but just the words. [words. words. words.]  It isnt getting better and I wish for the things I remember to flood back into my world and thoughts…. the things that helped me stay afloat.

oh to be able to just float….

I miss the ability to whisper, “this is okay…” and actually believe myself.  I miss enjoying it. I miss not blaming myself or feeling quilty. I hate that all I do now is count… you know, I became good at math from all that counting…

Four more gone this morning. This is when I know I’ve switched off. When I’ve broke. When I’ve lost control. I’ve lost the battle when they just do what they want on their own. and flee.  I cant seem to stop them now. 

 

“My chest explodes like glass… and I cant control where the pieces fly or the damage they they will cause. All I can do is sit and wait for it to hurt, to embrace the pain, and then… to heal.”

 
      

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