The wake of that moment. Where everything falls into place. Where the whispers in the back of your mind. That you brushed away as paranoia. Solidify and become truth.
Being caught completely off guard? Or knowing it was going to end up like this all along? Or is it fighting with yourself every step of the way. Convinced this is just your trauma talking. That you expect the worse from people. That you should give people the benefit of the doubt?
Even though you have seen what people do when pushed into a corner. You have seen what you do when pushed. But for some reason you see yourself as a monster and hold others to a higher regard. Until something happens that pushes you back into solitude. Each time deeper than the last. Every iteration growing the distance between you and them. A distance that you never get back all the way.
A distance that, over time, you become more and more comfortable with. Far more comfortable than you did around people. Because you know what to expect.
What then? How do you open yourself up again once you have known the peace that solitude can bring? Knowing that peace, opening yourself and your mind up to the chaos that they can bring can very easily end up seeming like the crazy choice.
Consider the wild wolf, caught in a hunter’s trap. Half-mad from the pain, aggressive to the point that it has begun gnawing on its own leg. You come across it. You know how to set it free. Yet when you approach it bares its teeth at you. Making it very clear that it would attack you were it not for the predicament it finds itself in. What do you do? Do you persist? Trying to set it free, despite the reality that it might attack you not only in the process, but will most certainly also once it is freed. Or do you back away and leave it to its own devices?
Like an animal caught in a bear-trap. We lash out and try to tear apart anyone that tries to help us. Someone who tries to stop our pain. The pain of the moment overrides everything, and instead of hating the one who set the trap and seeking retribution from them, we attack whoever we have in front of us. Because especially in those raw, primal moments. We are little more than wild animals. Reacting purely out of instinct. Wanting whoever we come across to hurt just like we hurt.
Knowing what we know. We should be better. But pain is a funny thing. It is a personal thing that we all carry. It is the ultimate unifier. A language that we all speak. That we all understand. Intimately. If we could only see that. How different things would be.