This eloquent post depicts and captures the experience of disconnecting and the immense effort it takes to remain in the present moment.
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Move back into the body, slow down, breathe. Again and again this reminder is needed. At the sink my mind flies past the present chore unconnected to brain or body, and my hand slips off the dish in my haste. And this is how my life has been lived, roaring past the present moment- not living in it.
How could it be any different? The splintering occurring during rape was complete… the severing of self, absolute. It takes work, plus a great deal of courage to be here now. Is now in the present moment safe? Feeling it wasn’t, my psyche took me elsewhere, and when a break is needed that ‘safe place’ is visited.
A loud or sudden noise, a simple disagreement, angst of any kind, spirals the body into overload and fright. It is not by choice to be this way. It is my choice…
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I Walk with a Limp 