Reopened wounds and battle scars

He climbed furiously, his hands and feet groping for firm land. Higher and higher he went, never once glancing down at the mess he had hurriedly left behind. His hands and feet moved faster still, fueled by guilt, anger and shame that crept up behind him, slowly but steadily. He ached all over, he was bruised and broken but he kept heading up, not daring to stop. He never wanted to go through all the pain again, not again. Up, up. He kept moving, where was the end? Was he near it? Would the end come at all? He glanced up, hands and feet still pawing for land. Up, up. His breath was short and his hands were numb. He could imagine himself falling, back into the mess he had left behind, back to the pain and the torture. No. He wouldn’t allow that. Up, up. Keep going, don’t stop. Where was the end? When would all the torment and the suffering cease? Exhausted, he took a deep breath and closed his eyes, just as he reached the top.

 

wrote this two years ago in september and I am still proud of it haha 2 years later and now I see what I was trying to write about looking back at the circumstances and omg the irony in it HAHA okay no one will understand it but me oh well.

Looking back at old posts/others old posts and realising how things have so drastically changed in the past 3 years and how 2012 and 2013 really really REALLY sucked and how idek how I survived it. So infinitely glad that it was all in the past though, those 2 years I do not wish upon anyone and I absolutely do not wish to relive again. That does not mean there weren’t good things, of course there were, but crap those years really hurt, and digging up the past has just reopened wounds. Maybe 230am is not the right time to start to reminisce; everything I felt then I feel again and it hurts really badly. Maybe it is time to shut off the brain and the laptop and drift off into (unrested) rest.

The more I dig the more insecure I feel oh what will it take for all these feelings to go away

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