I should have known spending more than 15 minutes alone in that house was going to be too much for me.
With my sister on her honeymoon I am dog-sitting at her house, the house I grew up in, the house that has far more demons and darkness than I am ready to face alone. 16 days…it feels like forever. I spent extra time there today to get laundry done for free (so I wouldn’t have to go to the laundromat) and I think that was a mistake.
I thought I was strong enough to not let it consume me, I thought I could handle it.
The 20 steps down feel like an eternity. The creeks in the wood even bring back flashes of my past.
The only cold part of that entire house. Freezing. Dark even with all the lights on. Each corner of that place has a memory.
I tried to do the laundry as quickly as I could so I could leave the shadows behind.
I watched a movie there in hopes to keep my mind off the demons of my past – wishing that the clothes would dry faster.
I know where each blade used to be. Strategically hidden. My safety net, my blanket of security when things were out of my control. I still miss them sometimes, I still think about it. I know that it won’t be like this forever – it won’t always be so hard.
My hands caress the old bookcase, the tv stand. I graze over the few VHS’s we still have, the wall that I sponge painted blue. My breath is shallow and deep. I’m 12 years old again. It may no longer have the 4 walls that once used to be my room but I can still see it like it was yesterday.
I got myself back to my apartment as quickly as I could and let the tears flow.
The couch became my rock – I feared what would happen if I left.
Around me all of sudden are scissors, knives…like some sort of sick joke.
I’ll get through this…I just….I get scared of the low after the highs.
It feels like an undertow trying to take me out to sea, struggling to keep my head above water.
I have to remember that no matter how hard it is…I am still surviving and getting through it.