ptsd
Post Traumatic Stress Disorder; The storm after the storm.
I Was the Strong One Until It Broke Me
For as long as I can remember, people have seen me as “the strong one.” The dependable friend. The sibling who always listens. The co-worker who steps up when things fall apart. I carried that title like a badge of honor, proud that others trusted me, proud that I could be the one who held everyone together.
By Nadeem Shah 4 months ago in Psyche
The Girl Who Slept On A Newspaper
Anxious attachment is a thing we hear a lot about these days. Attachment theory is a buzzword bingo selection. Like narcissism and gaslighting. But the story of how I learned to chase avoidant men like a defective compass needle that only pointed toward storm systems is one in a million. And yet, the dynamic may be the most common model of all relationship issues today.
By Suburban_Disturbance4 months ago in Psyche
Good Luck Understanding This. Content Warning.
There’s a difference between surviving and actually living. Surviving is quiet, mostly invisible work. It’s holding yourself together just enough so the world doesn’t notice you’re cracking. But, of course, it comes with a cost. It settles quietly in the corners of your life no one sees - the pieces of yourself you give up just to remain present, and the relief that never quite comes. That’s a truth I’ve carried with me for years.
By Suzanne B.4 months ago in Psyche
7 Signs You Were the Family Scapegoat (& How to Reclaim Your Story)
The Unseen Wound: 7 Signs You Were the Family Scapegoat In many dysfunctional families, there are unspoken roles assigned to each child. But while some roles come with praise, one is created to carry all the family’s burdens: the family scapegoat. This is the child who is cast as the “problem,” the “troublemaker,” or the source of all conflict.
By Sunshine Firecracker5 months ago in Psyche
I See Dead People
The memory of my first out-of-body dream is vague, as opposed to the lucidity of the myriad I have encountered since. I was seventeen and had been working twelve-hour night shifts, 7pm to 7am, and in the mornings, when I was finally home, I would collapse into bed and pass out from fatigue.
By Chantal Christie Weiss5 months ago in Psyche
Original nightmares: The birth of dread
The first time I’ve ever felt real fear, I was on the ground looking up at military helicopters flying above. The sounds it made were unlike anything I’ve heard before. The vibrations felt chilling, I could feel it all over my body. At the time it was like the whole world was against me. It felt lonely, cold and dark. You couldn’t have told me that I wasn’t stuck in a cemented room with barely any light. The only light was from the small hole drilled above me. I felt trapped, with nowhere to go.
By Tendresse NK5 months ago in Psyche
