Updated: Feb 19
Don’t get to close, it’s dark inside, it’s where my demons hide…
How many more must I bury? How many more must I look into their eyes and see the sadness and the pain? How many more do I watch crumble, and break, only because of the chance that their pain will be exposed, peeled away, and labeled weak, troubled, broken, incompetent, useless? How many more die before we move?
I see you because, in some parts, I am you. You’ve become a part of me that I have trouble shaking. You have become a part of my life that I’ve learned, through recovery, to share. And now because of you, I move. I’ve watched you take control of my friends. I’ve seen you crush their worlds and I’ve seen you destroy. I’ve cried with them and wiped away their tears, from a distance because my heart breaks, every time, I look forward and see the massive mountain of denial and stigma that I must try and move.
And it scares me. Don’t get too close, it’s dark inside…
I don’t know your pain first hand, but I can feel it. I don’t know your demons, but I’m sure my demon has met yours. I know what it’s like to feel hopeless. I understand the weight on your shoulders and I know what it’s like to sit in a dark, isolated room and cry, wondering why this burden has been placed and what should be my next move; To reach for the insecurities that once held on so tight? To reach for a fix, that won’t last past the buzz? To wonder my purpose and question my existence? I’ve been in that hole. And it’s dark inside because it’s where my demons hide, in my mind, on a corner, that changed my world forever.
Those demons are constantly living. Waiting on me to let it feed on my mind or play the terror over and over, begging me to live in the past.
But I refuse. I refuse to let you win any longer, because I’m tired of burying people who have lost all hope in this world and I’m tired of living in fear. I won’t let go until you have been disabled, disarmed, and pushed out of the realms of this earth and your name is no longer seen as a weakness because I have yet to meet anyone who you consider weak, carry your name and actually be weak. For we are strong and stronger than you and our God has already won this battle. I will not let go. You will not win. And that mountain that’s in front of me, called stigma and denial, will move, one day, it will be demolished.
How many more must we bury? How many more will we turn a blind eye and forget? How many more will we miss before tragedy once again, is draped with a flag? My demons may hide, deep inside, but I set them free, to conquer this world and shame on you for trying to get in my way. Bring any statistic you want, and I along with my massively strong team will laugh as it falls. It’s in your best interest to get out of my way.
I’m coming for you PTSD. And you have one hell of a fight on your hands.