This Body....

Question
BY MAY SWENSON
Body my house
my horse my hound  
what will I do
when you are fallen

Where will I sleep  
How will I ride  
What will I hunt

Where can I go
without my mount  
all eager and quick  
How will I know  
in thicket ahead
is danger or treasure  
when Body my good  
bright dog is dead

How will it be
to lie in the sky
without roof or door  
and wind for an eye

With cloud for shift  
how will I hide?

My body. This body, just here, just now, that I mistreat in so many ways.  Not that I mean to mistreat it, at least not consciously.. but I do nonetheless.   I'm not sure the "whys" of it.   Though there are many that are fairly clear.   Fear of the bathroom, shower, bathtub.. Fear of the Kitchen, the Bedroom.. fear of fear of fear.    So I will make mad dashes into the kitchen to grab something, anything to eat.. anything that won't take time and effort, anything that won't keep me in the kitchen for more than five minutes before I dash back out to safety.

There was a time before PTSD that I showered twice a day, every day, without fail.  I was beyond compulsive about it.  Now though, when I step into the bathroom, or really before I do actually step inside, I pause just at the doorway my toes just at the edge of the carpet as though I were about to jump off some unimaginably high cliff into shark infested waters.   I hesitate, do I really need to shower today?   Do I really need to brush my teeth? Comb my hair? Use the toilet?   When I stare into my apartments plain little bathroom, that has seen no horror show, no abuse, nothing that should instill this utter terror... superimposed are scenes from my history, different bathrooms, different showers, different colored tiles and linoleum.. shimmering as though it were an oily imprint hovering over the present.  I hear shouted words, gasping breaths and muffled tears, I feel the bodies memories of broken ribs, cuts and skin scrubbed raw, is it any wonder I feel the urge to run away from that space?  Isn't it more amazing that I ever actually do step inside?

I am 43 years old.  I was never meant to be here, alive and at this age.  That was never "Their" intention.   Some days I feel like an imposter or like I've somehow conned my way to this age and at any moment it will be taken away from me, this life... before I ever get to truly live.  Some days, I feel as though I have no right to be here, well, most days right now.   But there are moments, moments where I know I'm meant to be here, that I have something important to give.. to offer.  That there must be some reason I lived through all I have, have fought as hard as I have and that I'm still here, breathing, being.

This body of mine has been through SO much, so much, I wish I could be more kind to it.  I wish I could love it, accept it, be grateful and take better care of it.   I do try, and I have gotten better at it.   Some days it's a vocal thing, stepping off that carpet in the doorway and onto the bathroom linoleum, all the while, saying aloud "this is MY bathroom.  This is my Sink, This is my Shower, This is my bathtub, and YOU, you are dead and gone and you don't get to have this space."  The days that the ghosts of dead abusers lurk around every corner, it helps, sometimes I repeat it over and over, sometimes shouting it, and I wonder what my neighbors must think.   But, it works, so let the neighbors think I'm crazy.

I want peace... I yearn for a time when this healing process is not so in my face every moment of every damn day.   So the question becomes.. how to care for this  body and keep it well enough to enjoy when I do get there, when I am able to truly be free from this constant battle.   How to learn to care about this body, care for this body, give it some love and attention.. rather than hating it and mistreating it.   How to feel the body memories and not take them out on the body.  How to feel the aches and pains, spasms and cramps.. and not blame this poor body as it tells it's story.   It's a puzzle, that I'm still sorting into little piles, trying to put it together in both my heart and mind, and yes.. body.

May this day be a blessed one for you....