I don’t want to lose myself again but I can feel the trauma and sadness hovering over my head waiting to consume me once more. It is a battle that is never ending. I wish I didn’t feel like this but I do.
The trauma is like a cloud of dust, floating above my head. When the wind changes, the dust turns on me, attacking my face, I am unable to see away through the never ending dust cloud. It chooses its moments, normally when I am vulnerable and weak. Unable to wash the dust out of my eyes. The sand storms are relentless. At the moment I feel as though I have been buried under layers of sand and however hard I try to break free the sand continues to filter down on to my body. All I need is a hand to hold, to lift me from the tunnel of sand but no one has come of late and I fear I will be trapped here for another year.
However I try to fight the trauma, it feels as though it is gaining unimaginable strength over these last few months. For me, it is like the three predators are still alive and living in my traumatized body. The dust is pure white sand but occasionally the black volcanic sand tries to filter into the layers, managing to change, pollute the calmness and cause fear into my heart once more. The black sand begins to corrupt the present, infiltrating every part of untouched happiness.
In all of this pain and torment that is around me, I continue to fight, to face my demons. I still choose to live and not be lived by my trauma but the days are getting harder. I know that I can overcome these difficult months ahead. I have to keep going, however hard and long this journey takes, I will keep fighting because I can and will have a good life.