Trauma has fragmented my inner coherence which is where imagination takes place. When I no longer felt unified, I felt unsafe and when I felt unsafe my imagination died. It became zombified by my fears such that all I could see was the intricate ways I’d suffer in life.
I couldn’t hope, I couldn’t read, I couldn’t watch movies, I couldn’t focus. With the death of my imagination, my will to live died because I no longer could see a way out.