Just a Messed Up Kid.


Babes, You know that thing I could never bring myself to deal with before? I said it was fine. Well apparently it isn't. It is the reason my body went into a manic state when I heard of the accident. I felt it happen. I had only  moments of the craziest pain and then like a brick wall being built I felt brick by brick the wall went up and I shut down. Dissociation, my go to. I thought it was a normal response to the intensity of this situation, but apparently it isn't. It is seen in those with trauma where the coping mechanism is dissociation.

So love, imagine how pissed I am. That, getting in the way of me and you. It probably got in the way more than I know, more than I care to admit. 

Get this, until I deal with that I won't be able to deal with your loss. The months following the accident  I stayed in a manic state, the high so intense it was like I was actually taking hard drugs. All of that was a byproduct of  all that shit from when I was a kid. Can you believe that? I knew something was off, everyone around me kept waiting for a reaction I couldn't give them. I now know that to access much of this, I will have to tend to that.

The idea of going there was so beyond comprehension at the best of times, but to do it without you, now, in this state… No.

How can I, without you to come home to. Without you to make it safe for me. 

Like they didn't take enough from me, now stealing my ability to grieve you.To fully feel this. My ability to process, or move through. Out of all the violation, this all these years later, is the most sever. 

I now have two choices: go there and deal with that to allow my psyche the ability to be with this, or live relatively disconnected and in a state of fight or flight for the rest of my life.

The answer seems obvious as I write you. However, the lived experience beyond the black and white of print, far less clear.

Babes, if you were here I could do it. But on my own, I dunno. I don't know if I can.

It is the innocent pain of a child, a pain so fragile the grownup me would never allow access. The notion of going there is literally making me sick.

I didn't even know it was possible but things went from bad to worse. Not only am I living the hell of missing you, I am now facing the fact that my survival techniques from than are imprisoning me now. My ability to dissociate while once served me, now has hijacked this process leaving me in an entangled mess.

Of all that was stolen from me, messing with this is the most disgusting. Babes, you were the first person I ever told and you still loved me. You made me feel safe, you were amazing. I told you on the camping trip and you were perfect. Never looked at me differently, never made me hurt more.

God I miss you.

Now more than ever I could use your hug. Need your love, your care, your protection. I have never felt more alone and in the worst moments of my life.

I haven't committed to the work, even the idea of it is overwhelming me.

love you so much.

Missing you terribly.

All my love babes.