Stuck in twenty-twenty
Though time moved on
The feelings aren't gone
Live in my head rent-free
I've written this before, haven't I?
My memory won't work
And that's not a funny quirk
It's trauma that I can't deny
But spring is so many things
I got diagnosed in twenty-two
And again, so new
But first sunlight does still sting
I grew a lot
Part of me got better
But does it even matter
If part of me will still shatter
With every single year
Some things change not
I now know why
I expected the relief
Now I have to face the grief
Tell happy illusions a goodbye
I don't know how to cope
Stuck between extremes
Nothing as it seems
Dancing on a slippy slope
I wanted this
Doesn't make it easy
To watch trees turn leafy
It's just a new abyss
Trying to be optimist
But it's so hard
Broken soul and broken heart
You get the gist
All I want is heal
Want to forget
Stop bearing regret
You know how I want to feel
I'll discover how
I'll come to terms with it
And recover bit by bit
Just not now
☆
Nearly exactly a year ago, I posted the poem "Glass Vase". Underneath it says, I told my therapist I'm considering having PTSD. Now I brought the topic up again, and this time it didn't end in a "well, could be" but in a "of course you do". I knew I had C-PTSD, but I kept telling myself I'm exaggerating and actually didn't. I can't do that anymore.
The past weeks were full of flashbacks, and now having her tell me that is another hit in the face. It feels so good to know, but I have to process it. I somehow still hoped she'd tell me I'm not bad enough. I'll stop hoping that now. I am bad enough, I always was. I went through so much worse than I should have.
YOU ARE READING
It does get better.
PoetryPeople say it will get better. But to be fair, most of them never were in your place. They say you will get happy again, but how can they know? I've struggled with trauma, mental illnesses, and self harm for many years. These are (mostly) poems - ab...
