Losing time, and blindly fishing around inside of a vacant mind, is what I have been trying to do. I have given up on recovering time that really doesn't matter anyway. It is hard not to feel hopeless though...as if I will forever be losing my way. The other night when I dissociated, I did happen to find a small journal that I always keep in my purse to write in, and here are some scribblings from that evening.
bombarded~ with memories filled with pain that feels like a dream, but the tears that threaten and come to the surface with no warning, tell me that it is real. My anger is so close that I can reach out and almost touch it. I hate-so much. What if there is no tomorrow and the words I've said are lost...everything echoed...all of your sorrow wrapped inside the voices you hear.
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I can understand your pain. It use to be hard for me to understand that you can't put away the past of yesterday until you deal with it today. Your pain in your words is powerful and says a lot. Being serious about recovery takes a lot of work and each day has its many ups and down. Keep strong and cry a little if you need. Its a powerful emotion great for clearing the air.
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