And in that moment you're back again. As if you're living it just one more, excruciating and heartbreaking time. And just when you try to take a breath to take it all in and re-examine what you've already played over in your mind a thousand times, it vanishes. Your breath leaves you as you open your eyes to see yourself in yet another strange world you'll never be able to understand. The world of mind vs. matter no longer is a game--it's a reality, flashbacks casually dumping you from one to the other.
It's been told bloodcurdling screams leave the body as the transportation into the world of the mind commences. One moment you close your eyes, the next you're in your head, and before you can even realize what had happened, you're on your knees begging for mercy. Sitting there shaking in a corner. Standing there with your fist in a wall.
Walls put up during flashbacks can never be taken down again. Because no matter how much a person may love you, there's no Hallmark apology card for slamming your fist into their wall or screaming uncontrollably for minutes at a time. It's like a ticking time bomb, but your mastermind of a brain can't even seem to figure out the next time you'll blow again. Because it's the little things that trigger the onslaught. A color, a smell, a sense of any sort that reminds the mind of what it's spent far too long trying to repress.
But I guess in the end, every flashback brings you closer to the truth. It grounds you once more and reminds you that you are human. Living with the constant fear to you and your loved ones is scary, but I've found one thing that scares me more--silence. Silence is the voice of defeat, and I will not the PTSD you caused destroy me.
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