Instead of pacing the dark hallway upstairs; a ghost who can't find peace. Instead of kneeling on the bed moaning and crying. Instead of scratching my forearm with semi-sharp tools. Instead of twisting on the inside like a tortured and trapped animal.
I've been to a lot of meetings lately, and while they give me some relief it does nothing to validate the cause of the pain I've kept silent for so long. Everyone is calm at the meetings, aside from the occasional "share" turning to quiet sobs. I share, but only a little. More than five or so sentences and I feel my throat tighten. If I let it loosen I'll only scream, unable to put the pain into coherent words.
I've read about people who suddenly remember childhood abuse they had "forgotten", how it comes out of nowhere one day while doing the dishes, or at a therapy session, or while playing with the kids. A spinning, dizzying assault that the mind just decides it's time to release. No heads up, no warning, no time for preparing.
It doesn't make sense, what happened here is recent. I've been living it as an adult, but under the circumstances of financial dependence, I was burying a lot. Too much, and it's all rushing in at once, roaring hurricane-like in my head and sending me into fits. Eventually it subsides, leaving my skull aching and hollow, my guts compressed, and somewhere I can't locate I feel "it" rebuilding, gathering itself up.