Piecing It Together

Piecing It Together

I try and breathe

I take it one day at a time

Every second seems important

More important than the exhale

I hold it in

Because I can’t let go

I try and count

The moments as I lie awake

The intrusive minutes that bleed into the late evening

When the world changes all around, and yet it all feels still

I try and cope

I haven’t found the best solution

I try, and try again

Yet feel failure with each win

As if I know the peace won’t last

I can’t breathe

My cries overpower my lungs

I gasp with each tear as it chokes me

A smell lingers

A familiar stench of alcohol, cigarettes, and young masculine sweat

So bold, but disguised

I can’t talk about it

Can’t say it aloud

Can’t say how when I close my eyes, I still remember

Remember the music from my laptop, still playing

Remember coming in and out of a “dream”

Feeling more than I could see

I remember, and I’ve tried to forget

I can’t count my tears

They fall hard, staccato, and like tiny wet soldiers

They’re quickly discarded so as to not have any evidence of weakness

And just as fast as they’re wiped away, they return, unwanted

I cope by not coping

Afraid to say how terrified I am at times being approached by people I don’t know

I put on a facade of toughness

I am tough, and yet just a bit scared to let any guard down

I scream inside my head, grit my teeth, tremble, and wait for the moment when I can run

I’ll run as fast, hard, and far as I can

I’ll run from you

I’ll run from them

I’ll run from myself

I don’t know where you are

I don’t know why you did this

I don’t know why I wasn’t successful with letting it all go

Because I tried

I tried to go away

And guilt brought me back

Sometimes it gets painfully difficult to stay

I don’t trust the world

And I don’t know how to fully understand reasoning

I need a reason

I need to know how stupid and pathetic I must have looked for that night to even be thought of

I need to know when my clothes became option

I need to know why both

I need to know if I screamed, because it felt as though I should

I need to know if after you regretted what happened

I need to know whether or not you said penance

I silently cry and torture myself into believing I’m over exaggerating

That what happened wasn’t bad enough

Even my own mind wants to say, I don’t believe you

But I remember pieces

Even when I don’t want to, I feel as though I’m there

I just want to end this

End the memories

End the haze

End the tears

End the jolting behavior

More often than not, just end it

And I try everyday to not give in

I try and hold on for family, which makes me feel like a failure even more

Failing to make myself happy, by just focusing on others

I want to one day feel happy, without feeling a mask on top of that feeling

I’m trying

Documentation/Searching

So, I finally received the full incident report from my SA in East Lansing.  And there were fifty two pages of it.  Fifty two pages of so many moments I had tried so desperately to forget.

Speaking of wanting to forget.  Here is what happened today . . .
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I panicked, sitting inside the room with my therapist.  I panicked as she read over my full incident report of my SA.  I had a PDF copy of it on my phone.  I told her it was okay, because I trust her.  But still during those moments I felt so disgusting.  I know the ELPD has read the forms, and many other people might know about it as well (due to police officers talking about cases).  But somehow sitting there in the same room with someone reading over the details of a night I have never been able to forget or get over, was truly unbearable.  I tried my hardest to sit there and not focus on which details she was reading.  I focused on my feet, and even then I couldn't stop shaking.  I eventually had to briefly leave the room, and try and regroup.

When I returned I was still in the most bizarre head space.  I could not even look up at her.  As she spoke to me, I stayed focused on my feet, and drew outlines on my wrist and FitBit with my fingers, all while trying to push back the tears coming down my face.  I don't like to show emotion. 

The last few days have had that type of intensity.  I have read over the entire fifty two pages.  Over and over again, just trying to find out what I did wrong to have that happen.  And why I was so trusting of people I did not know.  I'm still trying to correct my naivety. 

My therapist told me to print the forms, and then delete the files from my phone, so that I was not tempted to constantly look them over.  She also told me to take the printed forms and put them in an envelope out of site, and locked away.  I just printed them out, but don't know if I can fully delete the files from my phone, nor just lock away the printed copy.  I'll try.  I just know that so far, today, I'm still looking for answers.