What would you do if without any sign of distress the whole world closed in around you and your heart sped up and skipped beats and it was working so hard you could feel it against your skin and see it in your neck? What would it mean if your face became numb, full of pins and needles as if it fell asleep like a foot you've been sitting on too long and the tingles dropped from your jaw down to your arms till your hands felt paralyzed and then up to your forehead the sensation so overwhelming it felt like work to move your lips. Where would you be if you found yourself trembling, body shaking uncontrolably, teeth chattering like you've been abandoned in the cold only you haven't- you are tucked safely away in your bed lost in dreams waking up to find yourself in this state that you cannot control.
"What are your triggers?"
What are my triggers.
Breathing, eating, sleeping, laughing, crying, moving, laying, living.
My trigger is living.
I don't have an answer and I don't know how to feel and I don't know what to do but the strings attached to this puppet have names and their names are Shame, Fear, Panic, Exhaustion and Lunacy. Their names are things I shove under rocks and cover with leaves in order to hide their connection to me. I prefer to appear without strings, I like the idea of freedom...the smell and taste and relief of moments when my strings are well hidden- doused in the proper amount of pharmaceutical and laced with peace, joy and happiness.
Peace.
Is this my legacy? Is this what I have to pass onto and into the lives of my babies- their faces lost and scrunched as I try to spell out why we cannot go, why I cannot breath, why we are again in the waiting room of a hospital. As I try to spell out mental illness.
I am not.
I am not.
Surrender means acceptance. Being off the hook. Not having to fight anymore.
Hey God, could you please pass the white flag?
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