how the pain feels in my body.

I’m a firsthand experience of what stored memories can do to our bodies. a tangible experiment for those who wish to see. the thing is, it is invisible. it is not easy to describe. it’s not obvious to decide how to let it go or sit with it. it stays, grows and shifts from one sensation to another.

I don’t remember how it feels like to feel comfortable in my body. it’s been a really long time.

for starters, the only time I truly feel at peace in my body when I’m empty. empty of food, empty of thoughts, empty of emotions. those last moments after a long walk in the garden— you sit down and breathe in the spring sunset breeze. they are rare moments, but when they’re there, I relish them adoringly. unfortunately, the moment I start doing things, I’m haunted by a perpetual state of discomfort.

most of the time, it is an electrified string of something buzzing along my spine, ending with a huge fuzz in my abdomen. something akin to a searing sword set ablaze right inside my body. that’s why cold baths help, as well as the cold air. it soothes the reddish glow for a while.

this is how my body feels all the time. of course, I learned to ignore it. I don’t always feel it, but when I sit in myself for some time, all I want to do is expose it and collapse. but since I’m an adult now, I have a million ways to cope with it. after hours of coping mechanisms such as staying busy, exercising, pleasing everyone, being hungry and then impulsively eating— I explode from pain.

it often feels like a blister. when the sword stays hot for so long that it touches the entirety of my flesh and my insides become a wounded blister. at that moment, my hand is usually on my belly feeling how swollen it is. or I’m body checking the extra weight that I put on despite consuming only 400 calories that day. or I just want to be alone because nothing and no one can help.

I’ve come to know that what I’m experiencing is unmetabolised pain and undigested memories. they are storms scattered around in my body, hurting everything they touch. sometimes, when I squeeze myself or when I’m hugged, I can feel it oozing out. I can feel it so deeply that I could stay in that moment forever till I’m whole again.

I’m hoping therapy helps me process it. my deepest longing is to feel peace in my body. to be able to sit down without feeling the debris settle in me, too.

to embody freedom. what a beautiful kind of peace.