Waking, Rising. Moving on.
I'd like to ask people not to read too much into this. Really.
Though, I'd just like to thank LJ's fabulous edit function for totally screwing this entry up. From the bottom of my heart.
Good Morning.
Despite once up a time always being excited about a new day, the mornings are now the worst for her. After a night of horror filled dreams of being alone, being trapped, being constantly terrified, she doesn’t want to be alone, doesn’t want to feel like at any second those dreams will come true. She’s afraid to wonder what they dreams might actually mean.
These days, she put off getting up as long as she can. She used to do it out of warmth and laziness, but now she does it out of comfort, taking those moments when she can just curl around his warmth and pray that she’ll continue feeling safe for every second they are worth.
When she does finally get up, the shower isn’t always so bad. She distracts herself with getting the temperature right and not wasting too much water. However, if she’s not careful, she catches herself watching the water sliding down the drain while imaging what she’d love to say to a few people, how much she’d love to stand up for herself and set them right, to help get this weight off of her shoulders.
She pictures their faces and their reactions. She pictures herself being strong and fearless, saying everything she wants to say without a single stumbled word, without one pathetic tear. And then just doing what they did to her and just walking away.
It’s a fight not to let time slip away with the water. Getting dressed and greeting people provides a distraction, but then there’s the actual leaving the house, being trapped in a car by herself for ten minutes which is the worst part.
Sometimes she’s surprised by what her brain can do to her in ten minutes, sometimes less. She cries on the way to work far too often these days, just letting the thoughts run rampart because although she’s paying attention to the road, it’s not enough to keep her mind away.
The thoughts of setting people straight are left in the shower, dissipating with the steam, but now its new thoughts that always come crashing. Memories surface and with these memories come dark thoughts. The inability to trust comes crashing in and suddenly she can’t help but doubt everything that’s ever to been said to her in her life. It feels impossible not to hate herself and everything around her. She’s filled with hatred and anger and such great sadness that by the time she makes that third last turn, she’s banging on the steering wheel, trying to fight off the tears.
By the time she makes the second last turn, she’s already moved on to thinking of where she’s going to park, what’s going to happen today and how late she already must be.
By the time she parks, the thoughts are entirely gone and she’s ready to face a brand new day.
And at the end of the day, though, she simply drives home.
Though, I'd just like to thank LJ's fabulous edit function for totally screwing this entry up. From the bottom of my heart.
Good Morning.
Despite once up a time always being excited about a new day, the mornings are now the worst for her. After a night of horror filled dreams of being alone, being trapped, being constantly terrified, she doesn’t want to be alone, doesn’t want to feel like at any second those dreams will come true. She’s afraid to wonder what they dreams might actually mean.
These days, she put off getting up as long as she can. She used to do it out of warmth and laziness, but now she does it out of comfort, taking those moments when she can just curl around his warmth and pray that she’ll continue feeling safe for every second they are worth.
When she does finally get up, the shower isn’t always so bad. She distracts herself with getting the temperature right and not wasting too much water. However, if she’s not careful, she catches herself watching the water sliding down the drain while imaging what she’d love to say to a few people, how much she’d love to stand up for herself and set them right, to help get this weight off of her shoulders.
She pictures their faces and their reactions. She pictures herself being strong and fearless, saying everything she wants to say without a single stumbled word, without one pathetic tear. And then just doing what they did to her and just walking away.
It’s a fight not to let time slip away with the water. Getting dressed and greeting people provides a distraction, but then there’s the actual leaving the house, being trapped in a car by herself for ten minutes which is the worst part.
Sometimes she’s surprised by what her brain can do to her in ten minutes, sometimes less. She cries on the way to work far too often these days, just letting the thoughts run rampart because although she’s paying attention to the road, it’s not enough to keep her mind away.
The thoughts of setting people straight are left in the shower, dissipating with the steam, but now its new thoughts that always come crashing. Memories surface and with these memories come dark thoughts. The inability to trust comes crashing in and suddenly she can’t help but doubt everything that’s ever to been said to her in her life. It feels impossible not to hate herself and everything around her. She’s filled with hatred and anger and such great sadness that by the time she makes that third last turn, she’s banging on the steering wheel, trying to fight off the tears.
By the time she makes the second last turn, she’s already moved on to thinking of where she’s going to park, what’s going to happen today and how late she already must be.
By the time she parks, the thoughts are entirely gone and she’s ready to face a brand new day.
And at the end of the day, though, she simply drives home.