The problem with opening up old wounds is that you assume under the scab it is healed.

It isn’t. There is just pus and pain and dead and dying flesh.

It needs exposure to heal, but that exposure hurts, and carrying an open wound around asks for infection and pain.

It needs controlled exposure, slow draining and cleaning and healing.

But if you leave it half done, and take a long absence because it doesn’t hurt anymore, you’ll find that the wound has grown, and is poisoning your blood.

So last post I opened up wounds, opened myself up to all that had been buried and covered,

It has not been a fun time. I went from quite stable and relaxed to completely unstable.

I have no control of my mood anymore. I cannot control or judge my reactions to anything. I’m being triggered by the strangest things around. A certain pitch will flood me with anger or sadness. A temperature can send me shivering and tired.

The strangest thing though, is that I’m not as warm as I used to be. The temperature I put out (external body temperature) has completely dropped.

My hands are always cold.

It’s a strange thing this. But as much as it hurts, and sucks, I must process through this whole thing. I need to clean the wound out fully and let it heal.

More to come.



So to start this whole process off, I thought I would speak about something that happened to me years ago.

It was in grade 2 (8 years old), on a Friday.

I remember it was a civvies day, and one of my friends had a scary mask that he had brought.

Now, I was never the bravest of kids. I have and had an overactive imagination, and my dreams were always painful. I used to sleep by the parents at least three days out of seven due to my dreams.

The problem was that I was also very trusting. They were all organising a sleep over and invited me.

I wanted to go, I remember begging my mom if I could. However, it was too short notice to do so.

I hated her then, a child’s hate, but I am very glad she did that.

They planned to scare me with it. They planned to let me sleep, then all put on scary masks and scare me in the middle of the  night.

It may not seem like much, it never happened, I only found out a week later what would have happened.

But just the thought that this was what my friends had wanted to do, that they had seemed so sincere in wanting me to come and sleep over with all of them, this destroyed my trust in people.

I always assume a person has an alternative agenda when trying to be nice to me. I always assume that they are just waiting for me to sleep to wake me up.

It’s a small trauma, and honestly a silly one, but it one that has affected me for the past 17 years, and will most probably affect me for the rest of my life.

I can work against it, since I know it’s there.

But when I’m low, when things are tiring, when the burden is too much and I can’t stand tall anymore, I feel the pain of that child still.

I feel the fear that everyone around me is no more than a joker waiting to prank me.

I feel the sadness that maybe that’s all I ever will be. That all I am is a fool to take advantage of.

It’s not every day. It’s not every moment.

But recently, it’s been coming up more often.

I’ve been trying to figure out why it has been preying on me so much more these days.

I think it’s because I’ve finally made some good and solid friendships, and you only fear the loss of something when you have it.

And now I’m fearing terribly.

I wake up in sweats, I sleep trapped in dreams.

It’s not a fun thing.

But the road to recovery starts here.

This trauma can be contained, cleaned, purified, dealt with.

Just sucks that it has to be embraced to be cleansed.

Until next time.

Been A While

Hello there.

It’s been quite a while since I did anything with this.

I got caught up in many things, and this fell to the wayside.

But I think I’m ready to try start this all again. There will be no great thoughts here, no revelations, just me speaking, well, writing, about what is weighing me down,

The hope is that this will allow me to fly again.

Let’s see how this goes.