That is what quiets the bees.

There's a buzz in my ears.

A noise to fill the silence.

"Are you okay?"

I have asked it at least 6 times already.

Internally I am screaming at myself to shut up already.

There is nothing wrong. 

I haven't done anything. 

I can't stop the words from coming out though. 

I can't stop this noise in my head that sounds like bees. 

Retraining your brain after trauma is a weird game.

Old habits die hard.

There isn't a "just turn it off and back on again" option. 

Trauma is sticky.

Trauma tells you that your judgement is impaired. 

Trauma tells you that you are unworthy. 

There is no shoe waiting to drop, but trauma tells me to expect it.

It warns me not to let my guard down completely. 

I refuse to let it have power over me anymore. 

Being vulnerable is not a weakness.

 

Being vulnerable, when your heart is tender and unsteady, is the most courageous thing a person can do.

To foster human connection in that sticky place, that place of fear, and what-ifs, and all of the unknowns- that is what changes us.

That is what grows us.  

That is what quiets the bees. 

Awkwardly Yours, 

Meg