trauma
At its core, trauma can be thought of as the psychological wounds that persist, even when the physical ones are long gone.
Soap and Water
My brother was sick. I didn't know exactly what was wrong with him. I heard the word "cancer" mentioned, so I assumed that was it. He didn't look well at all. He was extremely thin and kind of yellowish-looking with bruises all over his face. His name was Tom, and he was eighteen years my senior. It was 1989. I was 10 years old.
By Heather Cumbo4 years ago in Psyche
Stuck
So I am working on healing myself. Writing more poems. Working on this blog. Trying to be okay in a marriage when I have more trust issues than a wild animal backed into a corner. I don't know why I let myself get into another relationship. I thought I was ready I really did. I worked on myself. I stayed single. He wore me down with sweet words and trying to get to know the real me. I thought I had made sure he was ready for the hot mess that was my psyche. He wasn't. No one ever really could be really. I don't know why I believed him. Something about wanting to get to know my soul.....Cheesy I know but I was so hopeful. I really wanted to be with him. He had tried to get a date for a year. I kept putting him off. Telling him I was dating when I wasn't just to keep myself safe from another painful letdown. But somehow here I am.
By Melissa Wilson4 years ago in Psyche
Awareness
People used to ask me “What changed you? What happened in your life that made you realize you only have yourself?” When I was thirteen years old someone in my family sexually assaulted me. When I was that age I had no clue what sexual assault was. I just knew afterwards I was never the same. A few days after the situation happened I was starting to crave the feeling again. I was so confused as to why I was fiending for it. I knew it hurt the first time, but it was something about it that made it so thrilling. It was something about sex that had me addicted to it. When I turned 14 I started to have sex again, but this time it was with people from my school. Yes, I said people, as in more than one. At that age I really wasn’t aware of the dangers of sexual transmitted diseases or sexually transmitted infections. I had no clue it was serious enough that it could kill me, so at that age I was having sex with anyone I wanted to have sex with. I didn’t have my first real relationship until I turned 16, so I was just going around giving up something that was so sacred and precious. I had to find out on my own about the dangers of sex. I never took it seriously until I caught a STI. At the age of 15 I realized I was a sex addict. It was like that was the only thing I wanted to do. For a long time I hated myself. I didn't know what was wrong with me. I didn’t know how to heal from getting raped, I didn’t know who to talk to because my mom used to tell my business to her friends, so I never wanted to tell her anything. When I got raped the first person I told was my sister. My sister told my mom and that’s how she found out, but then she went and told a whole bunch of people. At the time I didn’t know how wrong my mom was, but something in me didn’t trust her for a reason. When I really needed my mom she wasn’t there, but she was there when she wanted to be. She was always caught up in her relationships. She was always caught up with her other family members. It felt like she only cared about me when she felt like it. Growing up I really had to learn how to communicate my feelings on my own, I had to learn how to say no to sexual activities, and I had to learn who I was on my own. My whole life I was alone. This is not a bad thing and it’s certainly not the worst thing in the world because I got through it. I’ve learned from it and I apply a lot of what I learned to my daily life. I realize self love comes before anything and anyone else. I now know I shouldn’t allow anyone to touch me in that way if they don’t genuinely care about me.
By Isis Lyons 4 years ago in Psyche
Hospital
The first night and the last night I was admitted to a mental institution were 8 years apart. The first night was a crumbled piece of lined paper, streaked with pencil smudges and the edges still ripped from the notebook. I still see my sister sitting in the waiting room for me, as she always did, attached to my side and my partner in crime. The last night was an officer dragging me from my front door, without a bra and waving with a kitchen knife swollen wrist.
By Nicole Cafarelli4 years ago in Psyche
Self-love in and After an Emotionally Abusive Relationship. Top Story - September 2021.
Well Hello! Welcome to the metaphorical psychological frogging (unraveling a project in fiber art lingo) of my long term relationship that, turns out, was emotionally abusive.
By Christine Hollermann4 years ago in Psyche
Suicide Survival
I preferred to be in a psych ward than be home. I couldn’t be trusted alone, or around other people. I felt disconnected from the world, my vision was blurr. It felt like, I was looking from my mind out, not my eyes. My mind felt like it had a mind of its own, could you imagine having thoughts but not being able to speak them, & at the same time another voice in your head is thinking & you automatically say what’s on their mind, our mind, my mind? I changed dramatically in a matter of days, I wanted blood on my hands. My mind felt like it was racing & it kept racing because there was no finish line. Voice 1: “Can they tell we’re in hell?” Me: “Stop… Okay, I need help”. & she started again, “yeah, you really do bitch”. I was really battling the voices in my head, on my way to get help.
By Solibeth Nunez4 years ago in Psyche
The Christie Pits Riot— OfPublicInterest.02
When Canadian newspapers began publishing the Nazi party’s anti-Semitic policies across their front pages in the early 1930s, it seemed to intensify an already tense period. The Great Depression was in full swing in Canada and anti-immigrant sentiment was already strong. With millions of Canadians hit by unemployment, hunger, and homelessness, many saw the way the Nazis were handling the Jews in Germany, dismissing them from professions along with outbursts of violence, as a validation to act, rationally or not, for their own struggles.
By Jacopo Mulini4 years ago in Psyche
