This is a continuation of my previous post: I thought I was someone who knew how to be present as part of my new Embodiment series – the next stage of my healing journey to fully integrate mind-body presence.
There was no getting out.
It wasn’t until I could see my own reflection in the FaceTime screen Stark held in front of me that I even began to understand that I wasn’t audibly screaming.
I wasn’t clawing at the window.
I was frozen.
Stiff.
Board-like.
Eyes glassed over with what looked like mid-pleading.
Make it stop.
As my therapist answered, his face coming into view, Stark spoke for me.
Over the course of six months on the road, it took every single day of that time and space to try to explain my experience in the normal moments — the ones that felt far away from the whirl of dysregulation.
For months, I tried to form the words so slowly, so carefully, that to speak them felt like a patient trying to describe a stroke as it was happening.
But no matter how slowly I entered a space of explanation, the minute I arrived, so did the waking nightmare — pulling me instantly into an internal world.
Dark.
Alone.
Screaming.
