Sometimes when my topic is so fiercely agonizing, I write in third person. I think psychologically, it helps me to think of a person I’m helping – outside or inside myself….but not really me.
The Crushing Pain of Separation – is Biologically Real
Her words were wrapped around her throat – forming coarse lumps that made her gag and panic.
She was in flight or flight mode…. Cortisol raced through her like a freight train. The inability to speak, be heard, be loved BY HIM – impacted every part of her biology.
Her heart burned and struggled to beat as the letters of her feelings took inventory of the vascular wreckage. Her heart was in spasms and shattered. LITERALLY BROKEN.
Her lungs gasped for air – every syllable felt like an embolism, like asthma, her breath was shallow and insufficient. CRACKLING. DROWNING.
Vowels and consonants scratched the lining of her stomach like ulcers, bleeding to be heard.
Her paragraphs cramped the muscles around her intestines – squeezing tighter and tighter…. Longing to be released.
There was no medicine to take, no remedy in sight. She had to live with the strangling, suffocating, dark feeling of panic knowing her screams and pleas would go unheard:
THIS IS NOT WHAT I WANT!
This is not ok with me!
WE DIDNT TRY EVERYTHING!!!!
I’m not done!
Don’t give up!!!!
Could I possibly cry any harder?