Sometimes it feels as though my heart will simply give out. The pain, turning from red angry into an aching numbness that feels as though it would never recover from.
In session with V, we've been dealing with some tough issues. Issues that are still close to my heart and wounds that feel fresh despite the fact that it's been at least 5 or more years ago.
V mentioned PTSD (Post traumatic stress syndrome). But it doesn't matter what it's called. The thing is, it was a matter of a broken heart. And today, I still wonder how a broken heart could still pump enough blood and oxygen to keep me alive.
Pain, everything was pain. Blood tinged with a poison pain. Tried walking on a broken foot? When I fractured the left side of my pelvis, it was agony. A broken heart pumping oxygen and blood - that was agony too.
Tenacity and a will to survive? That was me. But I'm hardly proud of that. Infact, sometimes, it shames me.