Pain Is My Companion
/Pain in my body
Grief in my lungs
Pain in my soul
Sadness in my heart
Pain on my back, hips and foot
Fear in my stomach and gut
Physical pain and emotional pain
They go hand in hand
My body talks to me and I seem to only listen to the loud pain
My emotions explode at different points
and they show up in the most mundane of experiences.
While I don’t know what happened in my past
I fear I am going crazy
I fear that someone will start putting medical and psychiatric labels all over me
While I do not remember, I am blind
I live life in the dark
I live on automatic
Just following what I am told and is expected of me by society
When I start taking a glimpse into the past,
There is more pain and there is more suffering,
but finally I understand the reason why!
And I will not let them label me. I'm the one who chooses my labels. The labels I feel, are right for me.
After the intense pain and suffering of remembering, comes clarity and understanding.
That having survived it all, I am still in this world and I want to speak up.
Right now, my body is speaking to me as I navigate another wave of pain and suffering in my body and my soul
But I know what lies on the other side.
It is worth it, to see all that ugly,
It is worth it, to feel all those intense emotions
It is worth it, to feel the helplessness and wondering what the hell am I doing on this planet.
It feels scary, it feels dark, there is confusion and depression.
I'm not out on the other side yet.
But I'm here, feeling, sensing, learning to be patient and on the path to forgiving myself, because no one else is seeking it.
Pain is may companion at the moment
I walk with pain and I let it guide me.
This is a poem about the physical and emotional pain of remembering trauma from the past. It was written a while after another flashback, in the autumn of 2020. I first had the flashback and a few weeks later my body just went into excruciating pain. The emotional pain of remembering was followed by physical pain.
It was so upsetting. It was so debilitating. It still is debilitating, but it is debilitating in a different way.
And I choose to know, over repressing and supressing it any longer. I choose to set myself free with the truth.