trauma

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

Understanding Trauma
For the rest of this week, I'm going to focus on Trauma and how it can greatly impact a person's life and ability to deal with the every day.
By Rebecca Brooks5 years ago in Psyche
Through the Darkness to New Beginnings
“Now I am strong and lapped in sorrow As in a coat of magic mail and borrow From Time today...” -Stevie Smith I was a precocious child. I had multitudinous interests, mostly of the natural sort, ranging from gardening and hiking to bird-watching and chicken-keeping. The future, it seemed, was laid bare before me—I could see it, practically touch it –and in that future, I was successful, I was enchanted by my work, and, most of all, I was happy. Of course, I would be married, with 2.5 children and a white-picket-fence-house with all the amenities. I would have a dog, and chickens, and perhaps some peafowl and goats. I would garden and I would bird, I would hike and I would rehabilitate wildlife in my spare time— why not? I had all the time in the world. But time, alas, has been a fair-weather friend, and childhood dreams are oft left by the wayside.
By Elizabeth Noyes5 years ago in Psyche
Summer Survivor
***TRIGGER WARNING. MENTION OF SE*UAL AS*AULT IN THIS STORY. Sweet summer. For most people my age, summer is a breath of fresh air. A break from the eight hour school day, A break from homework, mean teachers and the early mornings. I remember thinking to myself, "This is going to be the best summer yet". It'll be full of fun, parties and adventure. The summer ended up being the worst of my life.
By Kacey Baker5 years ago in Psyche
Lost in the Wild
She woke up softly, to the scent of sea salt, cow pies, and alfalfa. It was a distinct smell, one she had come to know well. A single ray of sunlight beamed brightly through the gnarled wooden planks and the gap between two of the old weathered boards. She grimaced as she rolled to her side, her hips sore from the solid ground she slept on. She slowly brushed some hay away from the edge of her dwelling to reveal a series of notches as she carved one more with a small jagged rock; 42.
By Avery Cecil5 years ago in Psyche
The Waters of Steel Creek
*Trigger Warning: SA* The smooth neck of the bottle felt cold and harsh in her hand. As she crawled her knees forwards, rough sawdust scratched and left irregular imprints deep in her skin. The opaque green blurred the floor as she took a deep breath and began to spin. She felt sick. Muffled voices grew, her heartbeat drummed before crashing around her ears. Overjoyed shouts washing over her into a crisp, shrill cheer. She looked up, vision hazy and translucent as the eyes locked with the boy across the circle.
By Amelia W5 years ago in Psyche
“One day I will look back on this moment and be proud.”
A year ago today, my narcissistic ex-boyfriend broke up with me. At the time, I was miserable. However, it wasn't totally unexpected. I had known since the fourth of July this was going to happen. After a long weekend of walking on eggshells, I left early to work with the family I was nannying. I was so early that I sat in my car and broke down, thinking. "I can't do this anymore. He's going to break up with me today, and I will not allow him back into my life. No matter what he says or does, I am not letting him back in." After I had repeated that in my head for a good thirty minutes, I put on my happy face and went to work. I spent the next four hours exploring and hiking with the children and overall had a fantastic time. At the end of my workday, I was at peace. So, ultimately when it was time for me to return home, I was ready, I was prepared for the fight, I was ready for the ridiculous allegations of infidelity, and I was ready to close this turbulent chapter in my life and kick his ass out of my house.
By T.R. Hartsock5 years ago in Psyche
Understanding Trauma
These are my notes and reflections on "Understanding Trauma", session 1 of Returning to Wholeness: A Guide to Understanding and Integrating Trauma, a 12-Lesson online course with Gabor Mate.
By Oliver James Damian5 years ago in Psyche
there's a mouse in my laundry
There’s a mouse in my laundry. It’s dead. The question is, was it dead already when I set the machine on delicate cold and let it run, or did it drown in the subsequent load? Was it even there when I first dumped my clothes in?
By Jules Berndt5 years ago in Psyche
Dungeon in Distraught
Kolby sat on the snow-covered rock outside of his Alaskan home. Silently anticipating where the wind would take him next, reminiscing on the past month. Reflecting on what he believed to have been lost, an amalgamation containing both positive and negative emotions seeped through his being. Young, brave and stubborn–Kolby lived up to be his father’s son. His new profound friend, Hope, only stirred these qualities that laid within him even more flamboyantly. Being rather young he was bound to make many more mistakes, much to his dismay. Nonetheless, in time shall he unveil the tale of the struggles of unlocking hidden treasures that lay dormant. Waiting patiently to be discovered, in the Dungeon of distraught the yarn folds silently.
By mony a5 years ago in Psyche
My First Time
The first time I wanted to kill myself, I was about 12 years old. It was the middle of the night when my mother burst into my room yelling at me. Half asleep and frightened, I tried to make sense of what she was saying.
By Kerri Chisum 5 years ago in Psyche
A Mother's Love
I could feel the glass shards sinking deeper into my feet each time they hit the ground, but my urgency never faltered- I regret my decision to wear heels this day. Now barefoot and terrified, I was running as fast as I could from my job to my home- it didn’t feel fast enough. I contemplated why I had never prepared myself for doomsday; but of course, I never expected it to happen at all… let alone, like this.
By Samantha Evans5 years ago in Psyche
Long After Assault
Molestation and rape were a common theme in my childhood. This is the curse of growing up a pretty black girl, I thought. I knew that my cousins, my mother, and other women I grew up around had been touched inappropriately too, so I didn't really dwell on it too much when it happened to me. Movies taught me that it happens to all women not just the pretty black girls left alone with the wrong male "family" member or "friend," so I thought, this is just what happens to women. Then I learned that it happens to men too, and I just thought, this is what happens period. We just pick ourselves up and move on. I saw a post the other day that said something to the effect, "hyper sexuality after sexual abuse isn't talked about enough. I've seen many women who were abused sexually disconnect with their bodies, and end up just being over sexual...sometimes it's hurt looking for temporary healing," and I identified with this statement so much. I even remember having a conversation with a male friend when I was older to this exact effect. As a survivor of molestation and rape in my younger years, there has always been a disconnect when it came to sex for me, but I don't feel like I became hyper sexual. I feel like I just stopped caring about sex one way or the other.
By Nailah Robinson5 years ago in Psyche