The nightmares come at their own whim.
Just as I settle into a good frame of mind,
A positive outlook,
A place of clarity,
The nightmares come in.
Some call it PTSD.
That I’m doomed to relive the pain of my past.
I awaken,
Shaken.
Minutes, sometimes longer,
Go by
Before I realize
I am not where my dreams have wandered.
I’m no longer Me Too-ing my way through the day,
Year after year with the same tormentor.
I’m no longer spending time with my parents,
Trying to get some attention, any acknowledgment, any say.
I’m awake now
Quivering,
Shivering,
Quaking,
Shaking,
Aching.
Wondering, must I endure this?
Why? And how?
In my conscious state, I’m fine.
I’m upbeat,
I’m hopeful,
I’m relevant.
I’m helpful,
But in these nightmares of mine,
I go back.
To the scary days,
The bad days,
The lonely days,
The painful days
Keeping my secrets at bay.
And in those first waking moments,
I’m still alone
I’m scared
I’m in pain
And I don’t know to whom to turn.
What to say.
Gradually I come to,
And realize that those things aren’t happening anymore.
So why does my unconscious mind refuse to let go?
What happens during my waking hours to trigger these nightmares?
Even though I’m filled with relief that it’s just a dream,
My day remains dark.
I ponder and fret.
It all comes back to me.
I desperately want my mind to get
To the place I deserve.
Peace.
I want peace.
Please?
Wow, Amy . . . another really good piece! Love, Bill www.billworthbooks.com
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