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Possible trigger warning 04=20-2021 |
Metamorphosis I am nothing. Drowning. Gravity multiplied in leaden water, weighed down by guilt for not feeling guilty at all. No sunlight penetrates inky liquid. No life lives here in the depths. Sinking. No flailing of arms or legs: they are paralyzed. Not with fear. Muscles feel no impulse to move. Nerve endings ended. No reason to reach a surface slicked with blood. The shark swims up there, not here. It can no longer reach out to tear or sink its teeth into whatever is left of me. I thought cocooning under five blankets would keep me safe, would deaden the blows. I thought agreeing with everything said would create a cushion. I thought wrong. It didn't matter what I said or didn't say; what I did or didn't do. I was wrong. I was stupid. I couldn't do anything right. I wasn't good enough. I wasn't pretty enough. I wasn't anything enough. It was my fault. Buried alive. Pressure building. Two-hundred pounds pressing down on my chest, my throat. I just want to sleep. I don't want to die. But. I think I am. Don't think I have a choice. All because I was wrong. I was stupid. I couldn't do anything right. I wasn't good enough. I wasn't pretty enough. I wasn't anything enough. It was my fault. A mantra I heard day in, day out. Ad nauseum. A crackle. Twigs snapping. Ocean surges. Waves throw me to the shore. Still can not breathe. But the shark is gone; seeking other prey or to find an answer to prayer in a bottle of Jamison's. Choice. Choose. Black lights dance when I open my eyes. Trying to move proves nerve endings can scream louder than I. Car keys. Purse. Can barely move but impulse outranks pain or fear. New mantra: get away get away get away. I'm okay, Get away. I'm okay. I do, but I'm not. Hospital admits me as Jane Doe. Police officer moves my car elsewhere. They take pictures of bruises, copies of x-rays. Thirty days. Jail for him. Hospital/rehab/therapy for me. Quite sure I got more help than he did. Arrangements. Life rearranged. Got my dog. Got away. Got better. Sixteen years pass. Different dog. Different man. Different me. All because: I was not wrong. I was not stupid. I can do anything. I am good enough. I am pretty enough. I am everything enough. I am me. |