It's worse than waking from a nightmare. When you sit bolt upright and your breath catches. It's all so much worse when it was no dream, but reality that led to this. It strikes in the middle of the day--nothing amiss, nothing wrong...then suddenly, the choking agony, the realization hits. And there is absolutely nothing you can do to make it go away.
This is repression. Welcome to my world. When you have shoved memories, experiences, emotions, as far back in your mind as they can possibly go, and avoid them at all cost, you set yourself on a path running nowhere, but always running, running from the truth. But as with all things, you can't avoid it forever. And one day, one day it will catch up. So this is where we are, breath catching, pulse racing, and completely unable to comprehend anything but fear.
The only thing that makes it real, the only thing that reminds you of what actually happened is the tears. Of everything to remember from that night, it was the tears on my cheeks that have been burned into my memory, mocking, proving that it was more than a nightmare, that it was the truth. And that is precisely what gives it the power to follow me day after day.
When the past catches you, there's no way to run. You just have to sit there and tough it out. You have to sit there and hope that it will pass as soon as possible, because if it doesn't, it means you're in for a long night of dented walls, bruised knuckles, and many, many tears. And when it all finally passes, you look back at the world and try to smile. But it's a hell of a lot harder after agony, remembrance, and confusion have wracked your body and your mind incessantly over something you still haven't fully understood almost a year later...So then you take a deep breath, and look ahead to the future, hoping to learn as much as you can from what happened before.
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