never again

It was like I knew something was wrong before it all happened but I was too busy being busy to really notice you know like busy with work, driving to work, music too loud to hear my own thoughts, busy with going places to distract myself, to kill time, busy with sleeping and not sleeping and being tired and talking about being tired and then everything changed and stopped and so did my body, LOCKDOWN she said, and slammed on the breaks. She said NO, NO MORE, and I was confused, like no more of what? You’re fine, we’re doing fine. But we weren’t, WE’RE NOT FINE, she said, collapsing onto the bed, shoulders up to her ears, jaw tight, the sound of teeth grating against each other too loud to bear. Ok, ok, ok, I said, what’s wrong, what should I do? LISTEN, she said, LISTEN TO ME. So I listened, closed my eyes too tight, heard the groan of my stomach, the creak in my knees as my legs nervously bounced on the spot. Ok, ok, what else, I said, started to prod at different body parts, different organs, OUCH every one of them said, every single one, angry at me. STOP IGNORING US they said, screamed, collectively inside my head. Ok, ok! I cried, a lot. Cried about everything I should have cried about months before, cried thinking about the last time I saw my grandparents, cried about when I might be able to see them again, how long it might be, cried about the virus, cried about the known and unknown. Crying turned to vomiting, up came bad chinese food and too much coke, up came the worry, the guilt, undigested paracetamols and beta blockers until finally, vomiting turned to dry heaving, to hiccups. GOOD, she said. FINALLY, YOU’RE LISTENING. Everything hurt, but this time in a good way, like when you get your eyebrows waxed, that good kind of hot against your skin. It hurt to feel how much I had been neglecting myself, ignoring myself, but I could change it now. And I did. I had to sit with myself, be with myself, I had to stretch and flex, reawaken forgotten muscles, give my shoulders and jaw permission to let go. I had to breathe deeper than I’d ever breathed before, into the stomach, send oxygen right down into my soul. NO MORE SHALLOW BREATHS, she said. I had to go inside, prod at wounds, take a knife and open them up to get the black stuff out. THE ONLY WAY TO HEAL, she said. All of that self hate pouring out at the seams. Things I thought I’d healed from still really fucking hurt, all of the words I thought I’d let go of, stuck in there, tattooed on the inside. Who knew that was still in there? I DID, she said, I TRIED TO TELL YOU, she said. Ok, ok. Thank you, I said. I’m sorry. No going back to how things were.

I’m sorry,

thank you,

never again.

© 2020, G.M Stone. All Rights Reserved.