For every moment of clarity, every small ray of light that I manage to drag to the surface of me, every moment where I think I might be doing better, there is, eventually and inevitably, a violent recoil that knocks me off my feet. It is a tangible thing, I can feel it happen, feel it hit me. Sometimes it is so sudden that I have no warning at all, while at other times I can see and feel it flying towards me, faster and faster, coming for me. I cannot escape, I cannot hide. I cannot stand against it. It forces me to the ground, drops me to my knees. It steals the breath from my lungs and the spark from my soul. And so I find myself curled into a ball in the corner of my sofa, crying like a child.
I’ve been trying to apply the technique that I use to help me deal with migraines, which is very simple. Just slow, steady breaths combined with visualizing myself floating safely beneath the water, letting the pain wash over me while I gently sway beneath the crashing waves. It isn’t helping, at least not so far. I feel physically battered, and I am exhausted. In all ways exhausted.
I have more to say, more thoughts to explore, but I can’t find the words. I feel blunted. Numbness surrounds and accentuates the icy pain that I cannot seem to make leave me be, no matter how hard I try.
I am fighting, I am. I can’t find me, but I am still here, maybe not standing, but I am still here.