This is me

I don’t quite know what I am, but I know I am a trauma response. I am getting feedback from something, somewhere, and it’s telling me both to stay here now, and not, or rather that no one else may meet me, or, well, me as I am now. The me they see before them. The me they shall meet? I don’t know we’ll be the same Georgie. I know who I am. But the next Georgie will not necessarily be me. But I get to write this so, I’m writing as I think. In a bit, when I’m done, Dawn will be asked

can you go to the blog and check for my post

once done that is

I’m putting that there to remind me, to keep me on track, because …I don’t think I exist…I think….I think I’m actually…..oh by the way dawn interrupted a bit ago to ask something, I forgot what, but I need to keep track of that, anyway, I’m just having a crisis here, I’m going to verbalise as I type now dawn, this way, you won’t have to read the entire post. I’m writing a blog on the did pack page. I just stopped again, reading out loud that is. NM I tried.

and now Georgie is gone, and I am new, again.