trauma
At its core, trauma can be thought of as the psychological wounds that persist, even when the physical ones are long gone.
Globes Within Globes
And her life was a collection of snow globes, some shattered, some shining, some stolen from souvenir shops and others gifted by gentle hands. Cheap plastic and expensive glass and everything in between cast translucent shadows on the walls around her and she felt like she finally understood.
By Greta Luns5 years ago in Psyche
Scruples
I was perched on an old wooden bench, facing away from a dried-up fountain, staring down in disbelief at the new entry in the little black book. The words that spelled out the next sinister proposition stared back at me, each letter accusatory and taunting.
By Suzie Wargo Lockhart5 years ago in Psyche
Globes Within Globes
And her life was a collection of snow globes, some shattered, some shining, some stolen from souvenir shops and others gifted by gentle hands. Cheap plastic and expensive glass and everything in between cast translucent shadows on the walls around her and she felt like she finally understood.
By Greta Luns5 years ago in Psyche
In Honor of International Women's Day, I'd like to speak to the women who won't be celebrated.
It's the age-old "they'll only do it once". Generally referring to a child touching a hot surface or another action that causes a negative reaction. But it seems more often than not, many of us don't quite learn from our mistakes.
By Dena Danzig5 years ago in Psyche
20 Minutes
My favorite smell will always be the smell of smoke. This is why I love wildfire season. Something about the fact that there are things even man can not tame brings me the slightest joy. The muffled vibrations of my dingy little 1987 Chevy soothe me as I take a deep breath of the dull, smoke-filled mountain air. It was very clear that wildfire season was raging. Driving towards the wildfire made me feel more powerful than the untamed nature, and in only 20 minutes I will use that power to reach my truest joy. I was going to my happy place.
By Alicia Sorensen5 years ago in Psyche
I was raped by porn.
There is a magical phase of childhood where the veil is still thin, memories of past lives can still be accessed, images and sounds can come through from other dimensions. A child’s imagination is open and curious. Whole landscapes can be created in the minds eye, full of colour and adventure. Characters can be birthed and excitement can be chased.
By Mirrie Parks5 years ago in Psyche
How to Stop the Rain
The rain went crash against the window. Crash. Crash. Crash against the window. Not the pitter patter of the morning or the thud of the afternoon. Thud. Thud. Thud of the afternoon. The wooden bed was hard and the hardwood floor was splintered and the splintered table smelt of damp and rotting wood. The metal bowl went clink. Clink. Clink went the metal bowl as the metal pipe dripped water into it. Drip, drop. Drip, drop. Clink. Clink.
By Eden Moran5 years ago in Psyche
"Age Ain't Nothin' But a Number."
TW: rape, child sexual assault, self-harm. *names have been changed “Let me tell you something. Age ain’t nothing but a number.” Tonya* punctuated her statement with a hand motion as though she were flattening linens, in a cadence that did not belong to a high schooler. Nor, however, did most of the experiences she had just finished relating to me.
By Blaze R. Fresh5 years ago in Psyche
The Ghost of Sisters Past
The snow fall, the colored lights, the smell of spruce hanging in the air and the buzzing of everyone you know usually signifies a time to be celebrated and hints that preparations for most peoples favorite time of year is underway. I would give anything if this still rang true for me. Sadly, I have not felt anything close to that holiday magic since I was a young girl.
By Breezy Rose5 years ago in Psyche
