#and yet my body doesn't feel mine still and yet strawberries make me nauseous and yet i don't like lying on my stomach and yet.
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#is not a brief memory as it is the rest of the days#daily. an event haunting me without even being able to put things into the perspective everyone else's shares with me#i feel so lost in nights like these. the memory of the flavour of strawberries in spring enough to make me want to puke and run#but i repeat to myself that it wasn't bad or traumatic and everyone else is exaggerating#in the same way I'm exaggerating when i feel my heart skip a bit when people don't listen to me saying no or deciding for me#i guess it's kind of a bad thing i got agency out of that. a forced kind of agency#this body doesn't feel mine and it hasn't for a long time. and yet it still feels like im exaggerating#i remember crying and not wanting them to see me cry so i dried off my tears in the blankets while they got whatever they wanted from me#i remember the walls closing in on me and me trying to accelerate the process#and i remember being unable to tell them what exactly bothered me of all of that. what was the thing that i couldn't get over#i remember telling to a friend “it won't cause trauma. it's not that serious” and yet i kept waking up from my sleep that night#and yet my body doesn't feel mine still and yet strawberries make me nauseous and yet i don't like lying on my stomach and yet.#and yet.#and yet the memory is on a daily basis with me. haunting.#i hope they never read this. i hope they never understand.#i hope it doesn't haunt them as well.
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