C-PTSD
- Dark Poets Club
- 1 day ago
- 1 min read
By Laura Rust
Conversations replay in my head for hours. often for half of the night. i never truly rest.
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Paranoia — i can’t tell if someone is being nice or manipulating me. i assume that i am disliked.
The other shoe is constantly teetering on the edge. when is it going to fall? why am i always under it?
Some places i can’t go. unless i’m in the mood to be waterboarded with memories. unless i want to feel anxiety tunnelling into my gut like a rat with no other way to escape the heat: our old house. the area we used to live. your new street. any of your friends’ houses. the cafe we used to visit. the hospital. the airport. train stations. my own backyard.
Dissociation.