Rationals Sprout From Trauma

Isn’t it fascinating how memories of abuse or terror can be reduced to mere flashes? Sparks of a camera lense or the strobe lights in a club that make me faint-perhaps it isn’t the affect of the light, only the affect of my mind.
 
I fear if I don’t remember them vividly, did they even happen? I am the sole documenter. 

How peculiar creativity is, sprouting amongst a decaying garden of my own creation. 

I have struggled to write, that is, when I’m alright. 

I crave the darkness if only to remind myself I know light, but I will never forgive myself for thinking things were going too good- I only blame myself for the inevitable collapse. 

Isn’t it fascinating that you may recoil against what made you stand with fortitude? Why was I once so strong, where now I cower? Why is it when you are safe you are weakest?