It happened so long ago it really is blurry. 

On hearing the news I cutt off, zoned out, and detached from

who I really was. 

I just couldn't go there - not in one go. 

To take this news as whole would have been too much for my 

innocent soul.

Numbness was my companion for oh so long. 

Adrenaline was my sanctuary, feeling alert, made me a fighter, 

created who I was: Rigid, inflexible. 

Then another crisis came and I fell to pieces.  I couldn't work 

out which PTSD  I had to deal with first. 

Painstakingly slowly I crept back up the cess pit of despair to try

and reach the plateau of normality.

Little was aware that it would taken an eternity:

2 steps forwards, 3 steps back, 4 steps forwards, 3 steps back.

Burnt out, exhausted, realising I gotten nowhere. 

I thought digging further was the answer, it just created more

mind numbing pain.

This onion I was the centre of was becoming toxic and suffocating.

Not only did it make my eyes water it prevented me from living

my life, all consuming sadness. Life just passed me by. 

This chair I was talking from, and there had been a few, had a 

real thorny side and should of come with a warning

'Beware whoever

sits here will open a huge can of worms, just for you'.

It just feels like my can has a bottomless pitt.

I wish I didn't pick up the tin opener.

I knew where I stood before: Frozen.