pillow....

I was always in the dark and continuely fighting always afraid to fall asleep, and to let my head rest on the pillow...   the pain still kills...

My memory is acting up on me still. The past is in the present. I’m physically throwing punches at it in the quiet of my room. Wrestling it away because it won’t stop bothering me. Teeth gritted, heart pounding, and anger brewing. Many have said what’s done is done the past is past. Oh I do agree. It would help if my brain could seriously comprehend this because I even say this aloud (enough for me to hear) to give it less power. No doing it says to me. The memory is playing tricks in the short term. Nearly putting food in the closet, turning off the sprinkler when I just turned it on only to be told I actually turned it off the moment I went inside. And I don’t remember a thing. I must be getting worse.

People will get to see something raw and unedited for a limited time. I am tired of being ashamed of that. The limited time…Because that too…is apart of me.