Sacrifice.

Now that you’re gone maybe you know now that the look behind my eyes wasn’t intended to make you think I had something to hide. It was quite the opposite, as I had an entire Universe to show you but couldn’t find the words because I knew you weren’t listening and never would; not with the weight of the world already on your shoulders.

Trauma will do that to ya. It’ll make you fight blindly until one night, when you believe all has calmed, flashbacks rear their ugly heads, teeth gnash and grind, and anger rises from the depths of rock bottom where you once stood.

I slit their throats. I smashed the glass leading to the wilderness. I screamed bloody murder and I accused them of swapping true and just arguments for blatant insanity and abuse. I need 8 burly men to hold back the dragon within. Nude or not, I wasn’t going down like doe against a crossbow who never had a chance.

Maybe it was all in my head, but when someone pins you down, bear-backed and bruised, and whispers in your ear, “You ain’t seen nothin’ yet,” you tend to panic as words you never meant slip from your fiery tongue and focused glares like ice picks sever any understanding between you.

You see, I used to fight because a spiritual man up-north once told me it was becoming. If you’re not careful, that kind of encouragement will lead you to places deep within that overtake you and sooner or later, it does, quite literally, become you.

Sacrifice

Luckily, the numbing agent that mania and nature provide, shields you from the immediate repercussions of any humiliation felt as you blindly gnaw your way through the sea of eyes prying on any morsel for their own gossip-laden agendas.

Sooner or later, though, the lubricant wears thin and waking up out of this coma turns into a slow and painful journey right back where you started – recovery.

Where you sit sifting through where it all went wrong. Where you’re left blindsided by nightmares and flashbacks. Where you’re too preoccupied with replacing negative thoughts with positive affirmations that you miss out what’s before you. Where you fend off wanna be friends who’d make a good impact, but something inside you knows they’ll never stay. Where you spend years recovering from what happened 10 years ago and lose your breath because you can’t catch up to the present day.

You learn this. Because you had to. And it’s exhausting.

That day I looked at you wide-eyed with loss, I was not inferring I knew what it was I needed to tell you that may have broken your heart; I was simultaneously stunned from the sheer size of what I needed to share with you, and I was also grieving a loss for a fight I have since given up.

So, what was the point anyway in telling you, if I had already given up?

I have lost today, because when you believe so strongly about something that would potentially change lives and pack it in and hang up the gloves, it’s as if you’re giving up your sanity, which ironically looks insane, to a broken system that is bigger than yourself.

In this game of remembering to forget and after a decade of non-stop mental and emotional warfare, stability becomes something you crave. And for me, stability comes at this hefty price. To give in. To pack it up and leave the fight behind.

For now.

Perhaps it’s a matter of reordering the process and ways in which we fight. But maybe sacrificing your happiness And entire life is too much of a price to pay for those that will never understand anyway. I’m not sure that kind of heroism is in my blood.

 

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