Whispering Wyrd

I think almost everyone carries their own “demons,” as people like to call them. Trauma. Old wounds. Memories that refuse to sleep.

For some, those demons are quiet enough to coexist with. For others, they interfere with the very ability to function, to rest, to think clearly, to feel safe in the world.

For better or worse, I fall into that second category. Especially lately.

I am now ten months free from benzodiazepines, after more than twenty years of use. Before that, there was alcohol. I will be sixty years old in a few short months, and it has taken me nearly a lifetime to stop using chemicals to cope with what I have seen… and with what I have done. With the things I thought I had buried, but which were only waiting.

Right now, I am in the midst of what many in the withdrawal community call a “wave”, the return of symptoms after a period of improvement. This one is, without question, the worst I have experienced.

The heart palpitations are back. The full-body tension is back. And, probably hardest of all, the nightmares have returned in full force.

Sleep feels impossible. When I do finally drift off from sheer exhaustion, the nightmares are waiting. They pull me back into those times and places so vividly that it feels real, like I have stepped through a door instead of waking up in my own bed. I wake with my heart racing, pounding so hard I’m afraid it will give out. The fear then fuels the palpitations. And so the cycle begins again. In the midst of all this, I long for peace. I pray for it.

I walk outside,
breathe the night,
and let the night breathe me.

I bow my head and cry.
I want to scream, “Why?”
But I know there is no answer waiting.

Suffocating beneath fear,
as though fear itself were a noose.

Still, somehow, I keep going.

I muster all the strength I can to move forward, moment by moment, breath by breath. I have a wife and three grown sons. I love them more than words can hold, and I do not want to burden them with the battle that rages inside me. They have already seen me through the darkest depths of withdrawal, and it was not easy for any of us.

So I carry it quietly when I can. I write. I pray. I breathe. I endure.

And if you are walking with your own demons tonight, please hear this:
 Don’t stop. Do not surrender to them. Stay stubborn. Stay soft where it matters. Stay compassionate, especially with yourself.

You are still here. And that means something sacred is still at work within you.

~Buck