Ghost of the Christmas past…

I am turning into my dad. And it terrifies me. Repulses me.

I am in so much pain and can’t talk to anyone about it. I feel so alone. I can’t find the words. I choke on the memory and throw up. I sob into the sink and collapse to the floor. At night I can feel her…sweet tiny child..curled up by my side.  Can feel her hair tickling my arms.  Her soft breath. Can feel her shudder with a nightmare,  so I wake to soothe her. Except she isn’t there. It wasn’t her shuddering,  it was me. Her memory was my own nightmare.  My body convulses with silent sobs, until I’m raw inside. I stuff the pillow into my mouth to keep me silent,  because I don’t want to be heard when I can’t explain. When daytime comes, I wake again…realise I cried myself to exhaustion,  fell asleep with my knees underneath me, still curled up, my face and eyes tight from crying,  my throat aching and burning.  I plaster on my mask. Find a cup of tea. Smile. Isn’t that what people do at Christmas?  Smile? I smile. ..I revise…I smile even more…tell myself im okay… wait for the next person to ask “do you have any children? ” because it’s Christmas and everyone wants to know if someone else has the perfect family.  What do I say? Yes and then choke on the pain and leave the poor person helpless? No and choke on my lie? I am a mother. I am just down here and they are up there… I have neglected them by staying here. I wonder if people judge me… never as much as I judge myself im sure.

I hear noises and turn to see a glimpse of you for half a second.  I hear your cries. “Mummy “. My arms ache with the grief because they want to hold you again. My chest feels permanently tight.  Choked.

Time flies and yet time is always still. I want time to stop. Please stop time going on… with each second that passes the memory of her face,  scent,  smile…they all blur. Each second takes her further away from me. Stop. Please…

Night is always the worst.  When im most alone. My abdomen ripples with ghost kicks. The darkness takes away reality. I feel you as I sleep…and when I wake I fall into a worse spiral of hell and heartbreak.

So… tonight I’m stealing my dads tactic. Im going to watch horror movies… they’ll keep me awake and distracted so I can cope over this festive period. A different form of dissociation. One I hated my dad for. *hated* him for. And now I’m following his footsteps and becoming more like him. 😥 😥

Please god just stop time…keep me close to them all ..


3 thoughts on “Ghost of the Christmas past…

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