I’ve been quiet lately.
Unable to write. To think clearly. To do more than function on autopilot.
I don’t think people realize how bad living with Complex PTSD can be. How it can disrupt every piece of your life.
How sometimes you can’t breathe.
That’s where I’ve been the past 2 months. Stuck living in the worst moments of a past filled with worse moments.
Dissociation kept me functioning as much as possible: wake, shower, drive to work, pretend to work, drive home, sit on my couch & stare at the wall, eat dinner, go to bed. I did all of it in a stupor. But I wasn’t really living. I was stuck in The Void.
The Void
Sinking into the abyss
the underworld
with no end
bottomless pit
of despair
You'd think by now
I would learn
how to swim in
these depths
navigate these rough
seas
You'd think by now
I had a map of
the terrain and
a guide to help me
rise from the deep
You'd think by now
I had a lifeline tethering
me to the surface
keeping me afloat
You'd think by now
I knew how to
stay out of the
void
And yet
here I descend
again
not by choice
only by some
forceful pull
into the chasm
where nightmares rule
and shadows reign
I try not to struggle
anymore
against the invisible ropes
wrenching me
deeper
and
deeper
leaving their marks
cuts and
burns upon my skin
I embrace the
shadows
befriend the
nightmares
envelop the
darkness
and yet
I still drown
from the
fear
sadness
grief
I float back to
the surface
barely breathing
broken
and
alone
gasping for help
reaching out
needing to be
held
Leala C Munson
Summers have always been times of flashbacks for me. The heat & humidity making me feel trapped & claustrophobic. I then hyperventilate & overheat.
This summer, with the excessive heat already, has triggered me earlier than I’m used to.
Summer never brought happiness summer was stress running away kidnapped summer was trauma broken glass daggers razor blades summer was constant fear whip cracking handcuffs and closets summer, for children, should be fun swimming ice cream trucks sleepaway camp roller-skating in cemeteries riding bikes skinned knees I tasted some of those summers a quick melting drop on the very tip of my tongue before it dimmed its bright sun and my world became dark as night at all times for years it is winter in my life summers poisoned forever Leala C Munson
Last week, my amazing therapist did a hypnotherapy session with me. I felt things release. My body shook for a bit. She basically told my brain the past is in the past - stop the shit & stay in the past. (I mean, she said it much more eloquently than that…but the message was the same.)
The next morning I woke with no flashbacks or traumatic memories.
I could breathe!
Prayers of a Dark Night of the Soul
I can't write
I can't think
I can't function
I scream
to no one in particular
The frustration
of not finding words
of not feeling phrases
of no more imbas forosnai
My creative fire is gone
not an ember left
among the rubble
I kick around
searching for a spark
a tiny glow
It'll come back
they say,
it's still there,
I'm told
I search deep
into the dark
recesses of my soul
feeling my way through
the mire
and wastelands
discarded dreams
wheeze a final sigh
as I pass them
leaving them
abandoned
once again
rivers of
smoldering
bloody tears
snake a path
carving out the landscape
passing through
crumbling ruins
of a life once lived
desolate terrain
giving way
to the nothingness
an empty void
where my mighty flame
once stood
I fall to my knees
at the empty altar
no flowers
or honey
offerings
to my missing flame
no pomegranate stain
remains
just an empty
hearth-shaped space
dry
cold
I curl up
on the edge
of the abyss
ashes clinging
to my face
and body
while tears
streak through
the bloody dust
an offering
most holy
of my very being
crying out
to Bridget
for the spark of a flame
to Persephone
for grace in the darkness
to Inanna
for escort out of this underworld
I cry
and
I wait
for the flame.
Leala C. Munson
I’m still struggling to feel my creativity again & find my flame. (The poems posted here are from this same time last year when I was deep in the void.)
I know it’s a process. I’m climbing out of the deep. Venturing into the light.
I’ve had 5 great days. That’s 5 more than I’ve had in a while.
Now creating a new path to a new me.
My beloved and beautiful friend. This is such powerful and brutal work. It is fruit. It is representative of what you came through and forged in the face of all darkness. I love you so much. I am here with you, always. Right beside you…whenever, however long until some light returns.