But my brain, my memory it’s not here right now, not really. I’m not really here at all. I’m partitioned, behind frosted glass, somewhere else where I can’t feel my hands or my face. I’m wrapped in tissue paper and cotton wool and placed into a foam-lined crate. I’m not here. Dissociation is scary. Dissociation is safety.
Posted: 2016-05-06 07:40:00