PTSD is trying to steal my life,
piece by piece.
my ability to be present;
It follows me around the house.
It comes along for every car ride.
It shadows me at work and invades my space with friends.
It doesn’t matter where I go, what I do, or who I’m with; it is always there taunting me, trying to take me away.
Constantly toying with my thoughts.
Making normal function such a struggle.
It’s trying to turn me into someone that none of my loved ones will recognize.
Someone that I don’t even recognize.
This battle is tiring.
This never-ending need to stand guard over my own mind.
Mentally, physically, and emotionally.
The end often seems nowhere in site.
Perhaps it never ends.
But I’ll never stop fighting back.
Some days, though, I don’t win.
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