Day 13 of 31 Days in July, “I’m Only Human”

Day 13 of 31 Days in July
The TBI Collection of The PTSD Poetry Project


“I’m only human”


Emotions held tight

Like a rider who is afraid to gallop

Those reins held so tight they hurt my mouth

I wanted to be set free

I wanted to run at will

To walk

To trot

To canter

To full out run

Instead I was told to hold it all in

Do more

Be more

Do better

Be better

Do more more more

This is who I used to be

I’m only human

I’m not a robot

My emotions disconnected

After the fall which changed it all

The silence filled with static

As self fractured and nearly broke

All I’d held back

Flooded my mind

Terrifying me

Who had I been?

This cannot be real

This cannot be who I was

This cannot be who I am

I’m only human

I’m not a robot

The darkness held me for so long

I screamed into it

I cried until my eyes were dry

I sobbed trying to get my own attention

I nearly gave in

I am not a robot

I am human

When she finally turned

When she finally moved towards me

I had forgotten her name

I didn’t even know who she was

This light filled creature

I used to be

She stood in front of me

In all her glory

She took my hand

We became one

The fire of her blew through me

And I stepped free

I am a woman

I have become whole

I have become free

I am human

And

I am not a robot


***

July 13, 2016

Personal Journal Entry

       I used to be a robot going through my days. Emotions held so tightly. Everything I did was to try and fit in, to ‘fake’ my way through my days. Be the best at what I did in my job. Be the kindest, nicest I could possibly be. Be the best at protecting my patient’s dignity. Do more as a mother, do better than anyone else could. Be better, do better, give better, give more, do more and more and more.

      This is who I used to be.

      I’m only human.

      I’m not a robot. I have emotions I may not connect with them but they are there none the less. I took all the hits a human could take and then I took some more. It’s more than anyone could take and yet I did. I nearly, very nearly, permanently broke. Yet I have healed, I have become whole again. I had a choice to make and in the end I chose me. This seems to most to be a selfish act and yet the healthiest of medical professionals have said this is the best choice I could make.

       Did I like this choice? No, it was hard to learn what this even meant. To have been told by abusive people who continued to try and be in my life, it was always about me made this even more difficult. What I’ve learned is this is the abusers way of keeping others down. It is really all about them. Because in the end there is no room for anyone else’s needs or wants. Even the small bits are considered way too much to ask for.

       Healing was going to happen inside my brain, inside my body. But the choices I made to work even harder to heal more was not an easy path. Those choices hurt, they hurt bad. The physical pain I had put up with and tried to ignore, was a superhuman level of pain. No person should ever go through this level of pain and try to function as though nothing was wrong. No one. Those days I lay in my bed in tears, in so much pain, even the high dose pain meds could not touch, are ones I’m happy are gone.

        I’m only human, I’m not a robot.

        I still worry I’ll lose all the leaps and bounds I’ve made in my healing. All it could take is one mere misstep and I’d be back to where I began. This is the thought in my head. What if I wake up tomorrow and all the creativity is gone as if it were never there? These worries fly through my head.

       I’m only human, I’m not a robot.

      I worry, I fret, I get angry and I sometimes scream. Then seconds later it is as if nothing happened and I’m smiling again. This is not normal, but I am only human and I have a broken brain. Some due to the brain injury, some possibly due to the Multiple Sclerosis. There are a lot of shades of grey areas inside there regarding which is what.

       I’m only human and sometimes I am frail.

       Out of the many things I’ve learned in the past three years is how frail my body really is. When I most thought I was super woman being able to lift, to run, to do all the things no one believed I should even be able to do? I fell so hard I broke the most fragile part of me. I’ve always said I am not broken, I am merely cracked like the fine china’s glaze. I’m holding it together. But this said sometimes there are hits taken which nearly cause a fracture so deep, so extensive there is no recovering from.

       Yet even within this darkness of the fractured place I searched for the me I knew was there. I called to her, I screamed out her name, a name I no longer remember. I screamed until I was hoarse I screamed until she finally took notice and worked her way back to me.

       I am only human and I fought hard to get back to myself. I’m never letting her go, not for any reason, for any one or for any preconceived ideas put upon me about how I should comport myself.

       I am a woman, I am only human.

       I am not a robot.

 

 

 

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