Well. Following yesterday’s dazed-shock, the shock amplified this morning. (I’m finally up and downstairs, but man do I look and feel like crap.)
I woke up at half 5 this morning, just shaking violently and unable to move, call out for help, think straight or function. I sat from half 5 until midday, my back against the wall, knees under my chin, shaking like a leaf with stages of total hyperventilation. It felt like such an extreme level of shock, a carry-on but worsening of yesterday.
Needless to say, I’m now exhausted, but thankfully I am no longer shaking and I seem to have gone back into yesterday’s sensation; I can function on a basic level, but can’t concentrate and keep getting startled at how slow time has gone, and yet bewildered that the world seems to be going so fast. Every so often my arms tremble or I catch my breath, but generally speaking I’m back where I was yesterday.
This morning was intense. It didn’t scare me as such; I had practically no emotions. I just couldn’t do anything. Some level of terror I was unaware of, probably remembered terror, had been extreme enough to push me into frozen mode. I was like a little girl again, except as a little girl I fought against going into frozen shock mode because it was too dangerous. It’s no longer dangerous, so I didn’t fight it. My body and mind needs to and deserves to go through what it should have gone through years ago; only then can I comfort it and soothe it efficiently.
So that’s where I stayed, for over 6 hours. Absolutely statue-still, except for the shaking. I must have blinked but don’t recall it. Just staring at my wall and trying to at least keep the memory part of my head grounded on where I was, so that in the midst of all this I didn’t flashback as well. In my head I could hear echoes of the children screaming or howling down the corridor. I could smell the smoke from the bonfire which was their grave. I remember wanting to just curl up in a corner and freeze solidly and be unable to do or feel anything. I remember knowing this simply wasn’t an option. I was grateful that today, at least, it was an option.
I just stayed there, staring and shaking, emotionless, hearing the screams and smelling the smoke, totally dumbfounded with shock as to the extent of the abuse…the number of children…the level of torture…the number of those lost…the ignorance of the men to the children’s screams…the level of evil in one place…the loss of lives…the knowledge I could be next…all of this causing an extreme level of shock which wasn’t safe to go through at the time. Now I don’t need to be dissociated from this shock. So for 6 hours, I went through what I should have been allowed to go through as a child.
I sat, stared, shook, rocked a little, sang very lightly under my breath, shook some more, listened to the screams but felt no emotion, just shock. Shock shock shock. My stomach felt hollow. My heart beating furiously. My head felt switched-off but in fact was racing. I was just completely stunned, overwhelmingly so, and left like the discarded skin off a snake.
Then, all of a sudden, it stopped. And I was back to where I was yesterday; dazed and stunned, wordless, almost emotionless, but with the vague instinct that I needed to get food and drink. I stumbled down the stairs, my muscles weak from the shaking, and I think at some point got water and chocolate – sugar is a good help for shock isn’t it? I couldn’t think straight. I fell onto my sofa, and went into auto-pilot mode. I have emails that need answering…
Still dazed. Still stunned. But not a statue shaking. Not with a frozen voicebox and clammy skin. Not so in shock that I actually can’t function or move or speak or even cry.
Not nice. I hope that doesn’t happen again…though realise it was needed as a processing strategy – both for my past self and present self.
Yes. It was shocking. I’m trapped in that holy fuck… stage. I hope it won’t be long until the shock has worn off and I can be shocked rather than in shock. Drained….