Stab

Perplexing how a single scene could take me back

to the world of white beds with metal railings, syringes and instruments that beeped the whole drawn night;

to when I lived each day clutching at each straw of certainty in a haystack of uncertainty, ever wondering if I could learn to be happy, if I could be like ordinary people.

I have often wondered how it works if, every person wanting to be unique, there were a standard into which most fell. And me wanting to fit into that standard, just to stem the pain, would be wishing away that which made myself unique. With time I've come to look back and look calmly, chin up; but at the time it was a series of lows and part of me - a big part of me - wanted out.

And so it took me

Back to being fragile and guarded and - just keeping the pieces together.