Prose by Day, Verse by Night

I hit my head so hard last year That the room would spin when I rolled over in bed. I had this sharp pain behind my eye: Double vision, sensitivity to light, Too dizzy to stand, too dizzy to roll over, Too dizzy to move my neck. I had panic attacks every time I got behind the wheel of a car. My body was a prison. I’m a restless girl, my thoughts can overwhelm me, I need activity to let the energy out -- But the simplest activities were causing me harm. I passed out in the shower, I passed out in the shed, I went on a walk and had to lower myself to the ground, As my vision went dark. I passed out reaching for ingredients on the top shelf of the pantry. I couldn’t work, I was miserable. I couldn’t function through the day but I was determined To do everything by myself And that’s probably why it took so long to heal. I mowed the lawn, I weeded the garden, I got on a stepladder to spackle and sand and paint the spare room Because I couldn’t afford not to rent out, I kept finding myself waking up on the floor, Realizing I was unconscious, Yet I kept trying to do it all myself. I hit my head so hard last year And I was so stubborn and wanted to take care of myself Even though I couldn’t take care of myself. You’d think I’d learn my lesson, Let you in, Let you help me, Let you take some of this weight off my shoulders. I wish I could but aren’t we all creatures of habit, I’m trying to be less hardheaded but I find it creeping in again, over and over, and damn do I see myself in my father, and I fear I may carry this obstinance to my grave.

Puddles are all that remain from the melted snow My fingers are blue, so cold without your hands to hold In the harsh winter, he kept me warm I only knew you in the frigid air, behind the privacy of snow, piled up in parking lots. We never made it to spring, sunshine and hope. You always talked about the future, you really had me tricked into thinking I’d be a part of yours. As the time shifts from 1:59am to 3:00am, You dump me on a phone call Spring forward… And I am empty again.

I search for you in passersby... you tiptoe through my dreams and flicker, like a firefly, in my sight as light beams. Yet in the dark, I know you lurk, upon my neck, I feel your breath Hairs stand on end, I will not jerk! Nor recognize presence of death.

After trying to break the cycle, I found myself deeper within it – Flabbergasted – This was supposed to be different. I healed, I put in the work, With the lingering statement Rattling in my skull, “You attract what you already are,” I’m trying to be better. I exude confidence, or maybe I just project it outward with deep insecurities hidden beneath the surface. Therefore, that’s what I attract – a cocky, insecure, mentally ill equal. I can clock the damage from a mile away. Maybe this is what love is, finding someone the same kind of broken as you, fitting the better parts of ourselves together and not letting our bad habits rule us. To be loved is to be known, and I feel like I’ve known you, you call me out on my bullshit instead of feeding into my behaviors. I do the same for you, I won't let you push me away. Since I met you, I’ve exclaimed how grateful I am that we didn’t meet a moment sooner, or we would’ve destroyed each other’s lives. Maybe we still will – is this doomed? Perhaps a calm before the storm? We’re both avoidant as hell, but we’ve both worked so hard to heal. Recovery isn't linear, having symptoms doesn't mean you're starting over. It's devastating, feeling like you've lost progress. We wanted to be healed before dating, graduated therapy, but now we've seen each other's flaws. Don't you see I want you anyway? Maybe we’re each other’s chance to make right all the wrongs done to us, to feel and grow in love. Maybe I’m just delusional. I think this could be a good thing, if you just let me in.

Darkness encloses me; my eyes feel funny. I peer down the distance to the back of my pupils, like I’m looking through a peephole into another room. I’m merely an audience member in the back of an old theater, with a flickering film projector. I’m in the backseat, bracing myself around sharp turns, knowing I have no control. Avoidance inhibits healing, I think, wondering how I got here again. My mind is around the corner in another room, I watch my body sit there, completely stuck. What was it this time? I try to recall the words that were said. I’m mortified. This isn’t supposed to happen anymore, I’m supposed to be healed. I want to cry, but I just stare blankly. Look—5 things you can see, My eyes dart around. I ground myself with the senses as I was taught. At least I’m not catatonic, but damn if I’m not numb. I'll accept the win. I learned this somewhere along the way, To protect myself. At some point, it became safer to disappear into the recesses of my mind than to face the realities of my existence. It takes a lot of retraining to realize I’m safe now. I’m home. No one can hurt me. Avoidance inhibits healing, so I guess I’ve got more to unpack.

Life is vibrant and exciting again, my heart is full of love… for myself. In 3 months, I feel like I’ve lived a lifetime. Oh, how dramatically things change! I’ve put in work, fed the better parts of myself, and finally healed. I was skeptical that treatment could ever be effective, I’ve seen people drag along with unresolved trauma for years and years, I thought this would be my forever. It was a temporary setback. I am stronger, wiser, and full of gratitude. I accept my ignorance in what God has in store for me. I live every moment to the fullest and accept gentle nudges of guidance. I’m not scared of feeling powerless, now that I place the power in the right hands.

When I was first suffering from debilitating chronic pain, without explanation, I recall a divide between my body and my mind. They are so connected, physical and mental health, the brain and the body – and yet I felt a need to differentiate between the two. I was so disconnected from my body, it didn’t feel like mine anymore. Instead of feeling like I was in pain all the time, I started to see my body as the enemy that was hurting me. My mind, on the other hand, I saw as my true self. My experiences with the medical system made me feel deeply invalidated, no one could find anything physically wrong with me, and called it “psychosomatic.” I didn’t understand the term at the time. I thought they were saying it was all in my head, therefore that the pain wasn’t real. I thought they were calling me crazy. It took years for an answer, a diagnosis to explain the pain. Such emphasis was placed on my mood and anxiety: I believed it to be caused by existing pain and doctors believed it was causing my pain – I felt truly scared to express any concerns of mental health. The body and mind are deeply intertwined, both influence the other. Physical pain can be debilitating to the mind, leading to depression, anxiety, negative thoughts, cognitive changes like brain fog and difficulty concentrating. Mood changes can lead to somatic pain symptoms, when you’re so depressed that you stop moving, the body begins to ache; when you’re so anxious about what’s wrong with you, it can cause increased sensitization to the pain you’re experiencing; when it feels like you can’t think or concentrate anymore, it makes it hard to distract yourself from the pain. Cognitive symptoms can lead to decreased productivity, decreased self-worth, and negative thinking. Distorted perceptions of self can make it difficult to view the full picture. This is the whole-person approach in nursing. Yet I’m still terrified to be seen in my entirety. I am so sick of feeling broken. I remember sitting in the urgent care after a concussion at work. The doctor expressed concerns about my safety at home, tried to do a mental health assessment and asked about trauma. I couldn’t answer the questions, I just sobbed uncontrollably for a week straight following the head injury. I was so frustrated and offended that I was asked about anything unrelated to the injury. Meanwhile, a week before my concussion I started hitting anniversary dates of traumatic events, and felt deeply stuck in the past, fixated, and having intense flashbacks. I was so scared if I told the truth, my injury would be seen as my fault. I stopped feeling real, again. I was numb, frustrated, disconnected from myself. Not even my mind felt like me anymore, I couldn’t even do basic math or string words together. It was like I was peering through a keyhole watching life happen, or not happen, for months. I am whole again, reconnected with myself, but continue to fear people seeing my flaws. They’ve been used against me so many times. It’s terrifying to be vulnerable, to trust. I don’t know if I can survive the pain again.

Oh, I’m crazy Haven’t you heard? Apparently I “tried to get a PPO” against my ex. That’s funny, my PPO was granted ex parte. He took me to court to fight it, and I still won the case, because as much as he calls me crazy, and his whole argument hinges on that theory, a judge believed the evidence presented: the pictures of bruises, my retelling of events, enough to land him on probation and in mandated therapy. How many men have we all heard call their exes crazy? It makes me wonder what they really did… I disappeared from my entire community and friend group for my own safety. He got to control the narrative. Just because you haven’t heard the other side, don’t assume there isn’t one.

An invisible string, I truly believed, connected us throughout our lives. This felt destined, inevitable, after all the little things, like finding out we spend Christmas Eve in the same neighborhood. Last year we cut through the backyards connecting your grandma’s house to my aunt’s. We always lived an hour apart, we would have never met if we weren’t introduced by friends, yet we had proximal holiday traditions, even the houses have the same layout. I hate knowing that you’re there tonight and fight the urge to take a brisk walk through the neighborhood and key your car. That would be tame after everything you did to me. You always told me you didn’t deserve me And I didn’t understand, because I thought you were everything I wanted. When a man expresses unworthiness, trust him, It’s the guilt spilling over. A man will tell you everything you need to know about him,  if you just listen. You knew what you were doing, you tried to warn me and I only reassured you as if it was insecurity and not shame for your wrongdoings.

Bruises long since healed The past must stay concealed-- it bubbles up and foreshadows the overwhelm that overflows until I am an empty shell. I’m a fool to think this could go well. I’m damaged goods wishing pain didn’t rule my life but healing doesn’t happen overnight. It’s not in the cards to be someone’s wife. I thought I was born to be a mother, how could I raise a child like this? I said I’d walk this Earth lightly, promised to do no harm but I destroy everything in my reach. I ruin lives with vengeance.

My stomach dropped when I saw her walk out of the bathroom. Why did I come here tonight? I should know better, We all used to dance down the road on Tuesday nights. I’m in the same town, on a Tuesday night, I can’t be surprised I ran into his best friend. She glares at me, clutching her new boyfriend by her side, And does laps around the craft store While I discuss the price points and options with the associate For stretching the canvases and types of frames. As I finish paying, I realize I haven’t seen her in a few minutes, And walk out to the parking lot. She’s sitting in her car with her boyfriend, engine running, My car is deeper in the lot. I walk towards my car and they pull out of the spot And drive right towards me and I flinch, Then they swerve, I feel threatened. My guard is on high – they wanted me to think they were going to hit me. As I approach my car, I realize I never locked it, I was just running a quick errand. But she knows what my car looks like, I’ve driven her in it multiple times. Paranoid – I wonder if she did anything to it? Is it safe to open the door? Nothing bad happens, but it could have. I should always lock my door. Weeks pass, I meet my friend for coffee and after a couple hours we grab food the local Coney. I didn’t even realize until I saw them walk in again that it’s a Tuesday night In the same town, and apparently another location people go to kill time before dance. I ignore them, my car is locked, they leave before me. I can’t keep letting them ruin my night. I did nothing wrong here I know I don’t deserve glares or judgment. Who cares about the opinions of someone who defends your abuser, anyways?

I don’t have a good track record with parties. People think they can ask me anything but the truth would ruin the mood. Last summer, a party got turned on its head when I got assaulted and I spent weeks trying to get witness testimonies from passersby. Parties haven’t been the same. Everyone wants to be a neutral party, stay out of the “drama,” or claim they were too drunk to remember. It’s a troubling way to find out who your friends are. Now over a year later, at another party he suddenly remembered what happened to me. Intoxicated, slurred speeches about how I never said “no,” victim blaming. He leans in close and asks, “would you have pressed charges if I bit you too?” As if it was personal, as if my boyfriend and his friend's attack wasn’t enough. As if I pressed charges for some other reason. I can’t even comprehend another motive no matter how many terrible assumptions I hear projected onto me. I was physically assaulted for their pleasure covered in bruises, deep tissue injuries and chose to leave the relationship, press charges, and lost my entire friend group. But it’s always spun that I was just trying to get revenge after a breakup. Even though the breakup resulted directly from the actions that transpired. I retraumatized myself in court, trying to do what I thought was right, and now I can’t even go to a Halloween party without feeling like I’m on the stand, being questioned and judged, while one of the worst nights of my life is scrutinized and replayed. I no longer have shame about defending myself this is a dead horse I will continue beating even if it makes people uncomfortable. You cannot convince me I deserved abuse. I hope one day I’ll be able to go to parties and people will see me for more than what happened to me.

October 19, 2024 I came over early to watch Premier League with him. We put a costume on his cat, went on a walk at the nature center, then thrifting. I bought combat boots and he bought a jersey. At lunch, I had the first of many veggie burgers to come. We got ready together for our separate Halloween parties and parted ways. I wished then we had chosen one and gone together. October 20, 2024 The next morning was a cider mill with my friends, homemade chili and football. I was so happy to see how he fit in he always made a good impression, blends into any conversation like a chameleon. I used to think this was a good sign, until last month at a family function, he was talking to my brother all night, I was so happy imagining our future together so grateful we meld into each other’s families… until I commented about it on the drive home. His words made me sick to my stomach, I don’t remember them exactly, but he sounded so inauthentic talked about all these social settings like it was work, business, like he doesn’t actually care to know anything about anyone he socializes to advance. I had a bad gut feeling that night, and it’s not the first one I ignored. As I saw him fit in with my friends, spend a long day with them it made me want to integrate our lives more, not to date in isolation but to learn more about each other through friends, family, see a bigger part of our lives. After all my history and trust issues, I wanted my circle to judge him and give me insight. Last month we went camping and fought the whole trip. He was always stoned always avoiding my questions, telling me I wouldn’t like the answer. I finally got answers that day, about his history, that kept me up all night. My stomach dropped, he suddenly looked scary as he spoke so misogynistically about women he’s been with not even remembering their names. It's like he forgot to code switch, phrasing everything just like locker room talk with the guys and not like how you'd talk to your girlfriend about other women. That was the first time I stayed up all night lying next to him, but not the last. I convinced myself I was just paranoid holding onto what I thought we had with such a tight grasp that I ignored my intuition.   October 20, 2025 Happy anniversary, I deleted the reminder in my calendar and blocked him everywhere. His friend and my friend took our reservation the other night. Just because our friends set us up and vouched for him doesn’t mean I should have ever let my guard down.

Is infidelity always unforgivable? It depends on the relationship, the boundaries, the rules and of course, what kind of infidelity? If he just fucked someone on a drunken night and confessed to me in shame, I could probably forgive that with time. This was no stupid mistake… it didn’t just happen one time. This is how he spends his alone time. Discovering the truth destroyed the entire concept of him in my mind, I don’t even recognize him. How can I even love a person, if I’ve never truly known them? There was no relationship left to save; the only man I knew was made up, artfully crafted to deceive me. Who knows if I would’ve ever found out, if he didn’t get caught? He would’ve lied to me for years, I’m sure. At least it’s only a year wasted and not a lifetime. He swore up and down that he would get help that he would change. After so many empty promises and betraying me the entire relationship, how could I ever believe him? I cannot stick around   hoping he’ll become the man I thought he was. He has destroyed his life and I can’t even feel sorry for him because these are the consequences of his own actions.

Storming out, I make sure to slam the door so your brother hears. I sob on my hour drive home I can barely see the road. Devastating this is unforgivable but I’m not ready to lose you. You are supposed to be my future. Terrified to tell anyone but even more scared of what it would do to me to hold it all in. I unlock my front door, grab the hidden key and bring it inside, lock the door again, and walk straight into the shower. I exfoliate off the top layer of my skin burning it in the heat until I’m beet red. I just want to wash away any part of me he’s touched. I chucked my bedding in the wash and replaced with my baby pink sheets. I don’t think he’s ever slept on these. The next morning I finally peel myself out of bed – another sleepless night. I pile his shit in a trash bag. I want to get rid of anything he’s ever given me, luckily it wasn’t much. All I have of him is his dirty laundry that he left for me to clean and a love letter of empty promises. Somewhere in the process, I stopped thinking of him as mine I stopped directing my thoughts toward him. No longer the man I loved, merely a façade who tricked me for a year.

My heart is pounding with such intensity I fear it may explode There’s ringing in my ears, I clutch my chest in pain. I am restless-- can’t remember the last time I slept, pumped full of adrenaline after you said those words to me. “Three weeks ago” the last time you cheated on me which you’ve been doing routinely since we’ve been together. “It’s just a bad habit I need to get help for,” “it’s an addiction,” every excuse in the world without any accountability, telling inconsistent stories, to make it seem like less than it was but I only know anything because you were caught. We’re supposed to be celebrating our 1 year anniversary tonight we made reservations a month ago. You brag so proudly of engaging in this behavior LESS than you used to; for not cheating on me as often. You won’t even admit that it’s cheating: sending and receiving nudes sexting strangers jerking off to their naked bodies. You fucking hypocrite! You didn’t even like me dancing with other men and I’m a dancer. Yet I stopped going out, going dancing, with anyone but you since we’ve been together “out of respect for the relationship." Stopped seeing my guy friends to gain your trust. The most suspicious and untrusting people are the ones who should never be trusted.