You

It took 361 days to forget you. To finally almost feel like we had turned a corner and to put the trauma of you behind us. We learned about you and prepared for you. We changed every routine and every plan to accommodate you. We spoke about other things but our minds still went to you. We never went anywhere without thinking about how we would prepare for you and what that would look like. We talked about you and we started to be able to do so without quivering voices. We hated you but we still understood you. Life went on and we learned a new normal without you. But we always feared you. Sometimes we were able to breathe even knowing you existed and slowly as you stayed away we started to forget about you. We started to smile again and dream again. We felt less haunted and more alive. We were returning back to normal and feeling…almost healed…

And then you returned within 4 days of 365.

We didn’t tell her you came back. We carry it ourselves this time. She doesn’t know it happened again. She didn’t watch her body turn over and stare off contorted and flexed to then begin convulsing. She didn’t hear the snorting and the panic in his voice. She doesn’t know what it looked like. She doesn’t know the images that have returned to haunt us again. She doesn’t know it happened three times this time. She doesn’t know why she has a headache that’s lasted four days. She doesn’t know, and that’s okay for now.

Her little sister doesn’t know because we didn’t tell her. She’s just recovered from the last one. Her sister doesn’t know but she does. She can sense it and keeps asking. She asks “what happened” because she doesn’t know why mom is so sad. But she does. She knows. She knows the crippling and agonizing fear of losing her. She knows that can’t happen and that is what we fear. So she’s a good sister and follows along, enjoys her birthday and tries to live a normal week. But she knows. She can hear it in the silence and see it in the tears. She doesn’t want it to be true. We don’t tell her, and thats okay for now.

He carries on with the next things to do because he’s not ready. He looks for new options and thinks about them but he doesn’t talk about it. He hasn’t told his closest friends, his family or anyone for that matter. He’s brave but he’s hurting so badly. He’s struggling but he hides it. He’s not ready and that’s okay for now.

She’s sad. She’s sad to be reliving this again but also to let in the feelings of being alone in this battle return. She doesn’t want to welcome the fear in and worked hard to keep it at bay. She’s strong but feels incredibly weak and that’s okay for now.

This is us.

We are all of these things but don’t mistake us. We are angry. Not angry at anyone but you. You can leave us alone and never come back. We don’t want you. You have no place here. We don’t hate anyone but we hate you. You don’t belong to us and you don’t belong to her. She deserves better than you. Leave her alone. Don’t come back.

Get out and stay out.

Additional edit…If I could add…

They don’t know how to help but they try. They didn’t see it. They hurt for us. They give us hugs but we don’t feel them. They don’t say anything but they try to. They have their own battles and we feel guilty asking them to join in ours. They try so hard to find a way to help but they can’t fix us and that’s okay for now.