I was dissociating this afternoon, I felt lightheaded and dizzy. My husband had music playing and the candles were flickering and it caused me to slip into an all too familiar memory. After much grounding, I wrote some of what it reminded me of.
Please be careful- massive trigger warning.
No sounds remain but the beat of the base, it’s welcoming somehow and with each passing moment, it pulls her further in. There is comfort in the flickering light and the warmth that each drag is radiating. She knows she’s been here before, it’s her blissful escape. With every breath she takes, the world is closing in around her. Every fear, each worry and any care she ever had, no longer matters here, in her safe haven.
But it doesn’t last long enough, something is different. She knows she was sitting before, but now she must be laying. Because all she can see is that crack once again, like a scar in the ceiling, it is never changing. Where was that beautiful dream where nothing could penetrate? It was like swimming under water; peaceful and serene. And what she’d give to be back there now. Not here, where it’s dark and she’s no longer sitting.
Flat on her back, this is all too familiar. The smell is over powering, yet she cannot react, her limbs are heavy, still groggy from her dream. And the panic hits inwardly, yet she cannot move an inch.
There’s a heavy breathing in the room, the monster is waiting.
There’s a weight on her chest and it is suffocating. There’s a familiar noise again, a whispering in her ear. Issuing its instructions that could not be more clear. Yet, they are no longer necessary, she knows what to do, it’s always the same. Like a good student, she remembers her training. When at last, the whispering cease and for a moment there is peace. Until the crushing weight resumes and with it this time, a rhythm she always hated.
Somewhere from within her, a scream is rising, though she knows it would be deadly to release it. So, she finds herself searching for her dream to return. Willing it to engulf her, she prays in desperation, wondering if she will be heard.
And next thing she knows, she’s sitting again with the familiar beat of the base, the flickering light and the comfort of each toke. She follows it back in, her haven is waiting.