trauma

At its core, trauma can be thought of as the psychological wounds that persist, even when the physical ones are long gone.

The Octopus and Tumbleweed
I feel his gaze before I see him. A deep pull almost turns me inside out and straight into the space between my body and the air around me. This strangeness of feeling makes me look into the crowd for the source. I spot him like a shooting star’s glow across a night sky. His eyes are down, where he is maybe writing or reading, I can’t tell. Then he looks up at me, his eyes studying me intensely as I move through the air, where I am suspended in the space that I can so clearly feel all around me now. It is all so distracting I lose my concentration and slip mid-air a few feet before I regain my grip. The crowd gasps. My head hangs to where I am now looking directly at him, his golden-green eyes wide, holding me steady in the air. Who is he?
By Tanja Kaia Kala4 years ago in Psyche
An Elephant From The Ashes Of The Phoenix
“Where are our skis? Oh no! Did we leave them there?” I asked, staring at him with wide eyes and an open mouth. He looks at me from the corner of his eye and laughs with disbelief.
By Carrie Principe4 years ago in Psyche
The Thief
Somewhere, outside, a cat stirs. I sit in my chair quietly. Head bowed, hands clasped in my lap. The only indication that I’m not praying is that my eyes are still open. I stare down at those hands and wonder why they’re not trembling. It might be the pills. It might be the hollowness in my stomach. I’m done caring anymore, but that doesn’t mean I’m done wondering.
By Sam Liena4 years ago in Psyche
Awaken
I fell back in love with San Francisco, with you. You helped me close my chapter there and start fresh and new in Los Angeles. I thank the universe for sending me a nice human, a sober human, and an intelligent human with dreams. After I had caused chaos in my own family and tormented those close to me with my own despair, I had a glimmer of hope. And it was you. Sorry to have put all that pressure on you, but I thank you for getting me clean and sober, down to Los Angeles, and leaving me at the perfect time.
By Kyle Thomas Shea4 years ago in Psyche
THE STAR OF JUDAH
THE STAR OF JUDAH By Deborah Dereje Tsige I love to watch films. My favorite ones are the sports flicks where you feel so moved that you have to clap from your sofa. The streamers break over you, the boy kisses the girl, and for some reason, you jump up so strongly that your glass of Guinness spills over the Persian rug preachers’ wives buy at Factory Warehouses. Richard chuckled as he scrubbed his goof off the corner, eye-ing me like this will be a funny story someday. After fifteen minutes,bundles of Charmin brand paper towels and the licks of our elderly border collie- I feared that this stain wasn’t going to blow over after a quick chuckle.
By Deborah Tsige4 years ago in Psyche
Samedi
You would’ve thought the whole town was in Davinas backyard. War drums pounding to wake her ancestors. The yard shimmered with moonlight, making the dew on the grass sparkle. Four drummers on the left of the yard and four on the right. Two women danced surrounding the fire in conjur magic. There movements mocked the flames or it may have been the other way around. Joe was one of the tallest people she’d ever met and the towns most gifted Rootworker. Like a giant he stood 6’7 in the center of the yard with his famous saxophone playing Muddy Waters famous “Got my mojo working.” White paint dripping from his face, a red serpent along his forehead and bones ringing on both wrists. Tonight was a full moon and was perfect for the ritual. White sheets of cloth dances around the whole yard. Davinas skirt moved back and forth in the breeze.
By Briona Dabney 4 years ago in Psyche
The Truth About Narcissistic Abuse
By: Amanda Spradlin 12/28/2021 First things first. I am just leaving my narcissist after well over a decade of deceit and if nothing else from this article, let this first point be the takeaway; we don’t ever choose to stay. It is never a conscious choice that one makes. To stick around for some psychological showdown of who is the bigger and meaner clown is not a decision that we debate upon within our minds when contemplating a relationship. We want out, and more than anything else, we just want to feel safe in our own space. The problem is, we don’t know how.
By Amanda Spradlin4 years ago in Psyche
This Is How Little Boys Turn Into Sexual Predators
A woman's breast is supposed to feed an infant; at its core, that is its biological purpose. Yet, few societies allow women to go topless in public. The female body is so arousing that it becomes shameful and must be hidden away. If it's not, we are told men can't control their urges.
By Dina Alexander4 years ago in Psyche
the short stories
Blaring sirens, medical beeping. “Sir, please step back.” More sirens, the defibrillator goes off. My wife’s body jolts in her stretcher. “Sir, I’m going to need you to give us some room so we can better assist your wife.”
By Ellie Okubo4 years ago in Psyche
Naturally Disordered
I entered the familiar doors to my childhood clinic feeling more nervous than I had anticipated. After I showed the receptionist my information, I sat in a chair in the lobby and waited. The sound of a cartoon movie for children softly played in the room– an attempt to bring comfort to the little ones who waited. My name was called out and I was guided by an unfamiliar woman into a small room with fluorescent lights. She told me to wait there for the doctor, so I sat on the chair trying to collect my thoughts. I went over how to coherently express my insanity to the lady in the scrubs who knew next to nothing about me. I sat there silently, staring off at the brochures which covered the bulletin board. I had a burning urge to leave and never look back. I felt weak. I also felt more alone than ever before.
By Myr. B 4 years ago in Psyche
Ode to Sleep
My goal for the new year is to cherish my sleep, and I mean really cherish it. I want to be that person that says, “ah I’ll hit snooze again” and go back to sleep for a few more minutes of peace.
By Val Poulos 4 years ago in Psyche
I Got Beat Up in Our Dog Park
Ever wonder why I talk about brain injury and PTSD so much? I’ve sustained at least four concussions, plus meningitis, and two of those brain injuries were partnered with PTSD. The first, in 1985, and the biggie, in 2011, resulted in PTSD and PCS (post-concussion syndrome).
By Catherine Kenwell4 years ago in Psyche