Shock therapy

Have I truly disconnected from it in such a way that seems humanly impossible? Why do I behave like this is not happening to me but rather treat it like a bad scene from a third-grade movie. The events play out in my head when I least expect them to. The intrusive thoughts are maddeningly frequent on some days and few, yet painful on others. I wonder if I want it to revisit me, so I can be reminded of the gravity of the most uncontrollable situation I have ever faced. Suddenly, but surely enough, the contradictions begin to unfold...of course it was controllable, I tell myself, while another voice whispers that nothing could have been done to avoid it. Would I much rather let the guilt trips get the better of me or try to calm myself into some semblance of sanity?The answer is confusing. If the guilt ceases to exist, then the whole event is wiped out from my mind. But I cannot have that. I know I must remember every crawling bit of that evening that changed my world.

Decision-making was never my forte, but this one sadly made me fall into the very worst labyrinth that I cannot escape from. Maybe this is what shock feels like. No stress, no fear or anxieties...just a remarkable numbness. A feeling that leaves one so deadened that almost nothing can shake one out of it. Of course, it is ridiculously simple to maintain a facade of normality...and it certainly is a requirement. But to dissociate from something which takes epic proportions in your mind, is scarily unhealthy. You feel, yet you don't. You stir, but it induces sleep. When there's wakefulness, your mind draws a blank. When there is uncomfortable silence with yourself, it creeps up on you. Dismiss it, it grows back. Disregard it, it pursues you. Sometimes it hurts like a thousand pin-pricks or a great big fire or worse yet, saltwater filling your lungs. But you laugh it off and say its some kind of bad dream.