Where time is buried

I’ve been telling myself it’s gonna be ok ever since Saturday. Haven’t been out of bed except for going to the bathroom. Had a major flashback that made me realize a huge theme in my earlier trauma that was playing out in my behaviour in a way that truly shocked me. It knocked the wind out of me. Within minutes of the realization I became drowsy with sleep as is normal of cptsd (complex ptsd) triggers. Knocked out for hours. Felt like a rag doll. No movement. No will. Just frozen in shock. Like I had been playing in the dark and someone switched the lights on. Things became real in a way they never have.

I don’t know how to explain how this feels because I don’t know how much of this is my cptsd and how much is just normal. It’s all normal to me. Anyway, the mantra. Everytime light flooded that room, the one in whose darkness I’d previously seek refuge, I’d just calm myself down. That’s all I have left. I’ve spent years turning every stone and corner and page in a bid to piece my infinite fragmented psyche together, and now the image was.. much to my chagrin.

It’s gonna be okay. Because even though I have no idea what would happen to me henceforth, I know Allaah knows. I know He’d make it ok because for the first time I’m actually confident in having done my due diligence. I have hope Allaah would acknowledge my hard self work and just… I don’t even know the form of what I’m seeking. But having seen my coping system in its entirety, I think I’m finally ready to let go of form and let divine redemption find my focus.

The irony. In search of myself all these years only to disperse all my pieces in the place I found all of me.

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