Somewhere I read a quote along the lines of “you can always trick the mind, but the body keeps score”… and I think I actually scoffed at thinking about how many therapists would get a hard-on for a phrase that would (or already had) become so overused that its message would lost in its clichéd demise. But now I’m starting to think that there’s a sharp-edged reality to that statement that I had so easily and so bitterly laughed away.
It’s been about a half a year since the epicenter that changed my life, but a year since the tiny tremors started to surmount in the seismic collapse of my world around me.
I now wake up everyday remembering; whether it is an old memory strangling me with the first rays of sunlight, or a new memory leaked from the overflow of submerged trauma unfiltered from a sleepy mind. Or during the day, when tasks have slowed and quiet settles into an emptier early afternoon schedule. Every free moment- every breath I have to myself that is supposed to fill myself with peace is stolen from my lungs and a memory is forced back into my body with such intensity that it rocks me to my core. I am stolen, kidnapped through space and time in my mind. I can still feel his hands wrapped around my throat; an open palm stinging my cheek.... the uncontrollable trembling that seemed to stem from rattling bones in fear of him- and what he might do next.
What I thought I had overcome now has overcome me in a sly seizure of the mind with a Trojan horse of false confidence in the constant suppression of the aftermath.
Now I am here, left in aftershock of a body that will truly never forget.
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