Raw #5

Dear God,

I sit here in the dark with the list of things I talked to Jeff about this morning: Startled awake, Cubs game where Ron Santo was having difficulty controlling his emotions, snapping the rubber band against both wrists about 100 times each forming welts and bruises, purchasing a small eagle to put next to my dad's memorial then taking the one on the shed down and putting it in the garbage, Erik's reappearance as these triggers and traumas are resurfacing at rapid speeds, looking up at my ceiling wondering what was hidden under those trim strips that I couldn't see, the vivid dreaming and whether or not to continue living in the house my Dad owned.

All I want is to be alone. To not be bothered. To turn off the phone. To not talk to or see anyone. To be silent. To let the problems I'm having overcome my senses so I become paralyzed with the inability to function. To have my mind, memory and mental capability go completely numb. I want it to stop. Just stop.

I'm exhausted. I can't get away from it. It haunts me in the daytime and it haunts me in the night. I curl up in my bed and I'm scared like a little girl. I want to sleep in the bathtub where no one can find me. Where he couldn't find me. I want to run away so no one can ever find me.

I want to cut. I want to cut deep into the marrow of my bone so my hands fall off, my wrists are cut to the bone, the cutting going all the way up to my shoulders like it did in October. I want to cut my shoulders again and cut my stomach. I want to bleed out the pain, bleed out the memories, bleed out the trauma and bleed out the stress.

I want to bleed. I want to bleed.

Love Amy

TRIGGER WARNING: may cause victims of sexual abuse (or any abuse, really) to feel upset or give flashbacks. this may also trigger cutters.