The ‘she’ that is not me

She comes when you least expect it and takes total control over you.

She perceives the world as a threat, and won’t allow you to trust the ones dearest to you.

She only operates in extremes and is triggered by fear…

Fear of rejection by, or loss of, anybody dear.

She’s constantly scanning for danger, always on ‘high alert’,

With rational thinking thrown out with the dirt.

She makes your adrenaline pump and take over,

Leaving you shaking even though you are sober.

She was born only a mere 10 years in the past,

When the traumatic death of my dad (and brother) left some nasty scars.

She’s got a few different faces that she has to show.

The most dangerous being raging anger, leaving enormous hurt and devastation in tow.

And after all the havoc and destruction she’s caused,

She presents you with regret that cannot justify applause.

And then follows the face that bleeds with sadness and pain,

So deep that at times you’re willing to give up on life’s game.

She repeats these cycles several times a week or even in a day,

Leaving you exhausted and without much left to say.

She’s not a mental illness but a psychological scar,

The most evil and deadliest that I’ve met so far.

She needs to be eliminated once and for all,

Because Chronic PTSD is not what I signed up for.

*** Image: Captured at Doornkop Nature Reserve

*** Related post: http://lizellebrink.com/the-final-chapter/

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