I don’t know how to explain
The despair that follows
Months and months of being in fight or flight
To come down after being wired
I always anticipate that I will feel relief
Instead I feel raw
Like an open wound
Trying to readjust
And the sorrow
It comes in waves throughout the day
Shadowing the moments that would usually make me smile
It pushes down on me when I am alone
It follows me to bed
Waits until my husband is sleeping peacefully beside me before going for my throat
It whispers “you will never feel better again”,
Sometimes, although I’m ashamed to admit it, I believe it