It’s a cold night. A night of wind. Wind that blows on the windows, and you wonder if the walls will collapse. I curl up on my couch under the quilt my mom made me. I’ve been sleeping on my couch again, though it hurts my back. Though the cushions slide and I wake up in the middle of the night and have to readjust them. This is the couch I grew up on.

I’ve been sleeping on the couch, and my memories have been coming back. My days are mushing together, but my memories are coming back. I cried on the phone with April. I cried on the phone with Jamie; I told Jamie the story that has taken me thirteen years to tell out loud.It plays in my head. My memory is coming back, but I’m pushing everyone away. I’m leaving everyone behind, so that they can’t leave me behind.
I used to cry and scream and hit walls. I used to shake my bedpost and pound my fists on the metal. I used to scream thru gritted teeth and my ears would start ringing. I would scream that I needed to see a therapist, but my parents didn’t understand. I would slam doors and lock them, and hide in the back of my closet. They thought it was just hormones and puberty. It wasn’t.

It was memories that now I recognize as the reason for all of the years of feeling like something is wrong with me. It was the lack of control that day. It was the fear we all had as we huddled in a corner. We screamed for help, but they told us to stop. They told us we would be found. We were helpless and everyone knew it.

It’s why I keep myself on a consistent schedule of leave every time I get close to someone. I’m remembering because I’ve let myself stay in one place for far too long. I’m far too committed. I’m far too exposed.
But no one cares. No one recognizes the turmoil I’m going thru. I don’t want to remember anymore of my stories.
God I know you hear these words. I know you see what I’m doing to myself. Please get me thru this. I don’t doubt that you are there; I just don’t know what to say to you. I’m thankful for the blessings you are pouring out on me, but I don’t know how to cope. I don’t know where to turn to. I don’t know what to say to you. I just need help. I’m all alone.
I’m all alone again.



I'm just going to be real, sorry to offend.

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