When the brume clears, no matter how brief the reprieve, capture the moment. Hold it dear and remember there will always be another break in the fog. ~Undeniably Sara
Its been going on for weeks now. Every day feels like an attack from one side or the other. Just when I think there will be one calm day with somewhat reasonable expectations of me, then I get hit again.
The tangled mass of vibrant colors shooting out of the head makes visual the struggle to explain the traumatized mind. Surviving each day is challenging enough, but then we face trying to describe the sensation to others.
Burning stress, piercing hurt, and crushing fear
Pile on, forming a jagged mountain of pain.
Then, a feather lands atop with a whisper of breath.
Giant boulders crash down, roaring like a freight train.
The taste of blood in my throat, a migraine of molten lava,
And my heart, pounding out of my chest, beating in my ears.
The breaking point smoulders from holding it in too long.
One “black day” is manageable, most of the time. Many of them crammed on top of each other can feel insurmountable. These “black days” have been plentiful recently, and respite is nowhere in sight. Instead of feeling desperation and defeat there is numbness. Even anger is unable to be roused leaving a sense of complacency and acceptance.
There is still hope for the seed of happiness to sprout and grow, but for now, it is firmly buried under the weight of too many “black days.”