in which Pain Overwhelms
It happened in a moment.
Pain. Searing, biting, ripping pain. I've never before felt a pain so wrenching.
It sizzles through my body, coursing through my legs and arms, building up behind my eyes. My knees ache. My head throbs. My fingers tingle. It is so unexpected, so startling and unwelcome. My vision is blurred, my hearing is as though my ears are full of cotton, my mouth is dry.
My thoughts are fuzzy.
Ow ow ow ow ow ow ow.
Ironically, this vocalization is all I can think. My brain cannot even begin to process it into speech.
The next moment, the tears come. They are cartoonishly huge in size, rolling out of my eyes and coursing down my cheeks. I don't think to brush them away, because my body is already out of my control, every muscle in my chest, lungs, throat, and back seizing up and releasing in soul-shaking sobs. My mouth contorts as I cry, choking out sounds I haven't made since childhood, and my hands move automatically to cover it as my sobs turn into something more like the word "No." My nose streams. My legs snap together, my elbows tight against my chest, my fingers crush my glasses against the bridge of my nose, and my feet rise up to the edge of my chair, an attempt at an in-chair fetal position. A position that screams for protection. There's no one here to see.
So cutting, so exquisite, this pain. It consumes me, controls me, completely disables me for hours at a time.
It's something that's tragically common, something I never hoped to feel, the textbook definition of a broken heart.
Pain. Searing, biting, ripping pain. I've never before felt a pain so wrenching.
It sizzles through my body, coursing through my legs and arms, building up behind my eyes. My knees ache. My head throbs. My fingers tingle. It is so unexpected, so startling and unwelcome. My vision is blurred, my hearing is as though my ears are full of cotton, my mouth is dry.
My thoughts are fuzzy.
Ow ow ow ow ow ow ow.
Ironically, this vocalization is all I can think. My brain cannot even begin to process it into speech.
The next moment, the tears come. They are cartoonishly huge in size, rolling out of my eyes and coursing down my cheeks. I don't think to brush them away, because my body is already out of my control, every muscle in my chest, lungs, throat, and back seizing up and releasing in soul-shaking sobs. My mouth contorts as I cry, choking out sounds I haven't made since childhood, and my hands move automatically to cover it as my sobs turn into something more like the word "No." My nose streams. My legs snap together, my elbows tight against my chest, my fingers crush my glasses against the bridge of my nose, and my feet rise up to the edge of my chair, an attempt at an in-chair fetal position. A position that screams for protection. There's no one here to see.
So cutting, so exquisite, this pain. It consumes me, controls me, completely disables me for hours at a time.
It's something that's tragically common, something I never hoped to feel, the textbook definition of a broken heart.
In your previous post, you described a place where I was at in 1999. The place was Krise 6. I was sent there for a numerous of problems. Diagnosing me as bipolar disorder and trying to take medication for it...I felt it was nothing but empty excuses for what I did...the nagging thoughts, the subsequent cuttings on my arms, I do not know you. Yet, your words are so familiar.
You may know me from a friend of yours, but I do not care. I do not hide. Your words here are very powerful. Be blessed...live life the way you choose, and you will be okay. Blessed be.