Tuesday, August 18, 2009

I sense that this compulsion to validate *feelings* will soon result in some bloody collision.

My fists are tightening and I begin dig my manicured nails into the soft flesh of my palms. I feel desperate for instruction tonight and my brain is sending signals to my fingers to form the words to send to DT for help. SOS! Danger! But it will not be allowed. In years past when I would grow frightened and afraid I would hurt myself, I would reach out and DT would be there. It could be midnight, sometimes later…and she would be there. But I know that isn’t the case now, so there’s no reason to reach out, express my fear of SI tonight, only to receive no response. I am not angry at DT any longer. I feel only fear and despair of being uneducated in the ability to handle the screaming and anguish from the parts inside of me. But there is no choice but to do this alone. At this point in the evening, I am unable to say what the signed treaty will be in the end. I do know the deadly arsenal to be used in this fight, this internal war, tonight.

I have no reason to stay here and endure the endless pain that exists each night. DT says, “Grace, stay in your body.” Um, why? That’s the LAST place I want to be! That’s where the HELL is, doesn’t she get that? Geez – this “body” is possessed, and since she wouldn’t agree to an exorcism – I’m moving out each night when the ghosts from the past come calling. And if the place doesn’t burn down or bleed out, I will return in the daylight.

I’d much like to find the “Grace of old” ~ but the tide has swept her out to sea, leaving me, the new Grace, covered in seaweed. The fundamental stress is still here but now an ache edges into the limits of my consciousness. I don’t feel armed to face the girl I’m supposed to meet and accept.

I feel past my prime. My subconscious pulls at my arms, whispers in my ear memories…bits and pieces of that young girl who was also named Grace. I try to look away but I see her and I hear her. She tells me is too sick to be healed. She is emaciated, listless, naked and cold. Her eyes are glassy, she is bleeding and she speaks of vanishing. You can’t save her and I don’t want too.

This is what I’m reduced to each night. Screaming , fighting girls inside of me who are all vying for control. I don’t care which one wins, I’m not sticking around tonight to find out.

Sometimes I’m scared of how much I don’t want to be here.

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