I thought that I was okay leaving last weekend. I made it through! I told this to the therapist as I laid in bed talking to her. That should have been my first sign, yet no one can lie to me better than me. By Tuesday night it was out of control to the point I needed to be called out by the Daddy person for lack of communication. I’d somehow gone 2 nights without checking in. It is now Friday morning, and I am up before noon. I am sick to the stomach and my legs are wobbly but I will power through this morning because I made a promise to someone that I love.

It started with the pain on Monday night. The physical pain. It technically is still present and I will know for sure when I get to the destination today and start things. I wasn’t prepared for the physical, not really. I understood that there would be some, after all I’d allowed my body to get into this condition, the only way out of it is what I am doing. What I didn’t anticipate was the emotional pain.

The nightmares started last week. They’ve shown up every night chasing away the rest my body needs. They leave my brain in a fog of agony and when the sun sets it begins all over again. I told myself they weren’t that serious because I could not remember them in detail, that this was progress. I lied to me.

I told myself one more day. Then I unplugged all the electronics. All of them. I spent hours staring at the ceiling, then trying to sleep, then dreaming, then more starting out into space and before I knew it it was Thursday morning. I had plans. I was going to conquer this. I ordered basic groceries I would need and they were here by 10. Then I put what needed refrigeration where it needed to go, and back to bed it was. It was almost unconscious.

This morning I turned on the phone an there are 30 unread text messages. They are still unread. I have what I need to wear in the washer and planned the course to the bank. I have to take what is left of my savings and pay rent today. I did send a good morning message before I turned off the phone. As I contemplate what needs to happen my lower back starts to throb. That is mental really. I haven’t done anything to warrant it, but my brain is telling my body that I am in pain to avoid the emotional pain of showing up.

I didn’t expect it to be this triggering. It would be me and a friend helping one another. I would upgrade her life and she would help me sustain. In the process we would both be better off and I would not worry about some simple things.

At Broad and Olney, I watched the 6 bus and thought to myself there is not ever a time I will need to go there again. I went home by Lyft and didn’t look at Wister St. Back at Broad & Olney the L took me on a memory lane of October 31 and I told myself I was ok. I wasn’t. I know that I wasn’t because I took a Lyft there every other morning. I took a Lyft home every night.

I wasn’t prepared for how the place would look. I didn’t expect the emptiness. The cold. I would not sit downstairs either. I wasn’t prepared to have to meet the boy at the school bell, doing that I’ve ached to do for seven years now to someone who doesn’t belong to me. I wasn’t prepared to walk in on a Thursday morning to a room that looked like I’d done nothing the day before and how it would remind me of Bonnie. I wasn’t prepared to spend hours in a kitchen making food that would remain uneaten. Standing at a stove with tears in my eyes from the pain in my back to arrive and see my work sitting basically untouched.

I didn’t understand how that would send me back to 2014 2013 2012 etc and the untouched trauma from that.

That is not her fault though which is why I am going back. It is clear that I cannot stay. Even if Tuesday doesn’t result in my escape to the West Coast I cannot stay. It will take me back to I place I cannot revisit for my own physical and mental health.

I told the therapist this is what I am made for, and that is true. What is also true is that I know how this goes and if I do not have an exit plan, then I will fall back into that darkness of November 1 2014. They stuck a thermometer in your vagina Nicole you cannot go back there. Yet you must complete what you began.

I withdrew from Mayhem to make this happen. This weekend of work and progress. I still have to do the SIG but that will come.

I have to cut my hair before I leave.

I have to be sure that I have have all that I need to battle through the next 72 hours.

At some point I will have to share this with the Daddy person and I am less than thrilled with how he might respond, but I’ve done it, and I am doing it, and I am understanding it, and while he might need to assist me, I am standing at least partially.

My little one is worried and I’ve relied on her actual mommy being there to stay away. That has to change. It will change but not before I place myself before the other little in my life and ask for forgiveness. She deserves better than this week and I carry the weight of being similar to those who came before me. I am also different in that I understand that which I must do, and how to make it ‘right’.

That too brings up memories and trauma. Trauma just put to bed mere days ago, yet it doesn’t really go to bed.

The new therapist is going to get a lot from me this week. In that vein, what do you owe yourself Nicole?

I owe myself forgiveness. I owe myself rest. I owe myself preparation for Tuesday. I owe myself love.

I don’t know if showing up today will deliver any of that, but not showing up isn’t an option.

I have to do this, for reasons, and it shall be done.

It is cold outside.