A poem- Far Reaching Arms by Tabitha J Page By sharing this poem, I hope to not only process my own experience but to offer a beacon of hope to others who also struggle with PTSD, night terrors and anxiety
TRIGGER WARNING - Descriptions of night terrors
* * * * * Far Reaching Arms
As the air grows still and heavy, my mind awakens and the shadows begin their nightly dance. Long, sinuous creatures writhing around me, each a life of their own. Each creak of the house amplifies their presence, while waves of anxiety crash all around.
The wind, whether real or imagined, howls, and the tentacles of my fears push against the bed, making the world and my body feel as though it floats.
Anxieties claw at my sanity, whispering lies and threatening to break through my defences. A nightly pilgrimage, the journey of a thousand moments, nightly terrors that reign and rule.
"It's not real," I whisper, my voice a tremulous thread in the vast emptiness. "It's not real." I fight the overwhelming tide of negativity threatening to engulf me.
Each night is a journey of many thousand moments, each stretching longer than the one before. "It will be over soon," I remind myself, fighting the tide of lies falling from the mouths of the creatures who cry.
I reach into the darkness, seeking the faint promise of morning light- a lifeline in this lonely sea. My heart pounds as I await the moment when the sky changes and the shadows retreat.
Each sunrise is a victory, a reminder that even in the depths of night, light always returns.
And I, I am ready to meet it, to breathe it in, and begin again.
All writing and allimages on this website are copyright and cannot be copied or used without the express and written permission of Tabitha J Page. Sharing pages straight from the website is welcomed however/please give credit if sharing and use the direct browser link.