Raw

It seems to me no place is psychologically or physically safe. Anyone, anytime can say mean words that are razor blades to my heart, or leave me to cry so hard I lose touch with reality and only know being alone in terror. Anyone, anytime can rape me or kill me or cut me or touch my hand. Safety is a farce. I don't understand how people can live in this world, know this, and just set it aside while they love and play and work and create. I don't know how I have done it in the past. I don't know how I do it now - how I create a story with my words while I breathe in and out knowing I am not safe either inside or outside my flesh. I guess most people can set it aside, this terrible knowledge, because they either don't realize how much rape or complete abandonment hurts or if they do they have learned how to cope and know they will cope again. I lost myself in the aloneness of terror last night and it broke something in my soul. I'm left today with poignant memories of L.A. (myself) screaming in the darkness, knowing no one would come to help, and having no place to go and no skills to self soothe. I broke. I'm left with echoes of a conversation Prowler (myself) had with Rae (myself) and Sarah (myself) about survival. We were raging, about to be incredibly mean with our words, and Sarah begged Prowler to stop. Prowler asked if anyone knew how to survive without rage. Panicked, we tried to think of something. We reasoned  that if we weren't in physical danger, we would indeed survive without rage. But Prowler was wise and pointed out that suicide was a real possibility. So we reasoned that if we stopped the rage and went back to the aloneness and terror, eventually the body would tire and we would survive. Prowler was wise and said that any more terror and we would fragment even more. More fragmentation might be permanent or bring suicide. So we reasoned out that we could take 3 sleep aids, they were prescribed to be taken that way and although the med hangover would be difficult and uncomfortable the body would likely sleep. Prowler agreed. It worked and today I am afraid I truly already fragmented in a most horrible way - fragmentation with awareness. A number of times I have told my therapist, myself, my husband that I can NEVER go back to that alone terror place. It is psychologically dangerous. It is physically dangerous. My room is supposed to be a safe place where I can perhaps self soothe to avoid the alone terror. But no longer. It doesn't matter what the rules of the room are, rules are broken and forgotten and vague and up for interpretation and at best a false safety that can be breached by mean words and aloneness. Safety is a farce. My soul has been broken. My system, a facade of personal safety itself, has broken down so that I can see L.A. and Prowler and Sarah and Rae and ...... and I know who they are and I know what they feel and the "I" is ego - self- fragments of chemical and electrical brain function communicating across neural pathways to my destruction or salvation or simple survival. "Self" a facade, screaming in the darkness, alone and terrified, the only reality. Tell me, what is safe?