Healing is a journey and it is not linear. Sometimes we find ourselves back in the places we thought we fought our way out of only to find that all of the thrashings had buried us deeper rather than set us free. Recent events have left me. I’m a decade in the past, realizing that it’s not where I was ever meant to be and discovering that living in the present will lead me to all of the things that are meant for me… but that doesn’t mean it’s easy.
Postpartum
Hello.
I am writing you from 20 days postpartum.
It’s darker here than I had expected.
It rains from my eyes, like every day.
I’ve never prayed so hard that rain would fall from the skies, just so my eyes would be free.
I don’t know if I believe in God, so I’m not sure just yet who I’m praying to.
But so far
they’ve kept me from prying open my 6-inch scar
they’ve helped me avoid a head-on collision – with myself, cars
can we talk again about my incision – mostly because I’m obsessing over it
sometimes, they keep me from that too
the obsessing, the obsessing, I’m obsessing
this is the only way for me to be confessing
that I’m not okay
I’m still not sure who I’m praying to
but they’ve kept me from asking my boyfriend if he’s cheated on me yet – I’m sure he’s not
they’ve kept me from calling to ask if everything is okay, 38 minutes after I left for the day
I can’t tell you what it is but I’m sure, I’m positive, I’m psychotic
because my paranoia had me considering that he sent me out of the house to get rid of the baby
When I finally asked them to cut me open
Yes I’m back on incision again, I told you I’m obsessing
When I finally asked them to cut me open
I wonder if subconsciously I knew I needed to be reopened
in the same place this trust was originally broken
they called it a window
uterine wall saran wrap
stretched so thin they said I was about to snap
but I keep reminding myself that I was still intact
that almost doesn’t mean I have to doubt the way I’m structured
but it’s darker here and I’m full of doubt
the God I don’t believe in but am praying to still hasn’t dragged me out
maybe because I have to free myself, a reminder I’m free to be myself
maybe I’m not crazy.
Maybe I’m taking a temporary trip – to insanity, into the past,
it just looks like crazy because we don’t have the time machines for that
I’m using my mind
Rewriting the story without the abuse this time
I’ve swapped out some of the characters but all of the roles are still present
Only there are less rules now when I live in the present
I muster up the courage to apologize
For the snot on his shirt, for my waterfall eyes
A precursor to a real apology
Because I’ve been expecting of him, projecting onto him
the terror that had been thrown onto me, bestowed upon me
A decade before
I’ve moved on to 21 days postpartum
It’s different than I expected, the crack in the door
Light is seeping in, slowly infecting
It’s not as dark as I thought it would be here
But there’s not as much light as I crave either.
Much love, until next time.
Madeline May I... 