trauma
At its core, trauma can be thought of as the psychological wounds that persist, even when the physical ones are long gone.
Drowning
I stood by the water admiring the little ripples in it; even if there were a bunch of kids swimming in the small pool, it still looked beautiful. The noisiness made me feel so alive. I bent down and scooped up some water, splashing it in my face. It felt so nice in the blazing heat of the Arizona sun. I smiled, thinking how this is how it should always be, the cool water on my face in the warmth of the sun. It calmed me to think of this. As I was watching the water, I felt a kick in my back and I flew head first towards the water. I screamed. I felt as though no one could hear me. I couldn't swim. I shrieked in terror as my body smacked the water and I felt a painful sore in my body. The water no longer seemed so pretty as it did before. It was filled with grief and darkness. It was no longer blue and full of shimmer and sunshine, it was black and murky. I gasped for breath. The playful sound of children, the crashes of people splashing in the water, it was all gone. I closed my eyes knowing this could be the last of me, and let all that was before sink into my soul. I woke up in the hospital with my family surrounding me. They were all so worried about me and that made me stress. I took a deep breath and thought of the water to relieve myself, but I could no longer think of it the same way. For, it had pulled me into it's miserable arms and sank me. It drowned me.
By Michaela Weiss8 years ago in Psyche
The Struggles of Being Young With Illnesses
At the age of 9, I was diagnosed with PTSD, and subsequently also anxiety and depression. I had been sexually abused for years, and when finally reaching out and going to therapy, a slew of problems were brought up to my parents; concerns about my mental health. I was taught things a young child should never have to be taught; how to properly manage a triggered PTSD attack, how to get your body to rest when you cannot sleep, how to calm yourself after a flashback. I was told that while it will get better, it will never go away.
By Briana White8 years ago in Psyche
Moments
There are some moments that will change your life forever. Moments you can’t prepare for and that you subsequently drag around for years, reliving them over and over again. Luckily, the rest of the world doesn’t necessarily have to know about your moments. You can hide the truth pretty easily if you put up a good act. But no amount of acting can make that moment any less real to you. Personally, no matter how much I act, I can still remember my moment like it was yesterday.
By Megan Wells8 years ago in Psyche
Their Common Traumas
It was the first day of classes, another year began which I did not think was anything good because the previous ones had been such as I predicted, miserable. I walked through the corridors of the school, like a soul in pain, I haunted every corner. It was my fifth period, I did not know where to go and when I found out where I was, I knew I was late but I introduced myself, I went into the room, all eyes on me, I saw a friend from last year, I sat with her. That's how it all started. She has the most beautiful eyes in the world, when she smiles she creates another planet, when she makes ugly faces she also looks beautiful, I do not know how she did it, but she captivated me, quickly, without much doing. I was always alone, antisocial, and apparently angry. She was happy, pure, free, on the outside everything with which she wanted to hide that inside. She always greeted me, often told me to smile or that I am beautiful that day, I do not know if I fell in love with her because I did not have anyone else or simply because she was the first to captivate my attention. We kissed for the first time on the patio of my house, it was weird, she swore not to kiss me again, but she did. She has a lot of pain, she cries almost every night. She told me her life, I know every detail of it, and I would love to erase some of her moments; abuse, violence, and a broken heart. It was blamed that they played with her, she said she was not enough, she screamed at me, she told me things she did not even think or feel, that anger consumed her. Sometimes I went completely crazy, I did not know what to do; how, why, when. Totally crazy. But those moments in which she smiled, I saw that beautiful heart that was still in her. Every beautiful moment counted for five fights for me, I was the "optimist" but no, completely deluded. I said things something that I did not do myself, we are a disaster of emotions. I suffered from severe anxiety, she from suffering, I from bipolarity, she from bipolar with depressive disorders, like me, too. We walk together to school and sometimes, we fight. She does not know what she wants, sometimes she tells me to leave her, but I can not. When a little girl suffered a lot of abuse, when that anger grew, it grew bigger, then she gave her heart to the wrong person, it broke into pieces. It's been two years since that happened and eight months since I met her and I have not been able to replace those broken pieces. She no longer trusts anyone, she sleeps with an open eye if necessary, the father looks like the groom over protector, and the mother does not look like a mother. They ask for confidence but when she speaks she is being disrespectful, they expect her to listen but if she defends herself she is being disrespectful. People speak bad of her, only to annoy her. When she gets angry, I try to give her love, to advise her but it gets worse, that anger is consuming her. My mind, my past, and my traumas torture me. Since I was little, I lived with my parents, they fought little, we were happy, and I used to go out and play with my friends every day. Then I moved here. She was born here. She is beautiful, necessary clarification. Sometimes I sink into an abyss of thoughts about why this is not going to work, sometimes I want to scream at her because I do not understand her. She says she loves me. I love her more than my life. I would love to know how to make her happy, because it is exactly what she needs to survive. She says many things, it's an open book with an iron cover, but I love the falseness with which she really loves me.
By Maria Morales8 years ago in Psyche
Helpless
The picture represents sadness. Well, the picture has it completely wrong. I am not sad. Yes I have been sad. I have gone through quite a lot. But I’m okay. I’ve made it through abuse, torment, and anything else you can come up with. A year ago was most definitely not the same thing. I had so many mental breakdowns, I lost it all the time. I was so suicidal, I didn’t ever dream of making it to 17. But here I am, writing this, hoping to reach out to someone in need. Hell, I need this. I need to write down my successes. I’ve done it. Everyone doubted me, not one person consistently stuck by my side. I didn't need a partner. I didn’t need my parents. Nor did they need me. I made it. All on my own. I have been through so much in the last 12 years of my life (non-stop hell.) You’d never guess that if you met me. I don’t cry, I don’t look upset. I will pretend for my entire life that I’ve got everything together whether I do or not.
By 8 years ago in Psyche
life love and chronic conditions
when you suffer daily and risk hospital everyday all you can do is smile In may 2017 i was put in intensive care after it looked like id had acid thrown in my face and it had swollen beyond recognition, And omg the pain was unreal and i came very close to not being here anymore i had a severe reaction to something and to this day we dont know what anyway my gp had given me steroids thinking it was allergy but it turned out to be a super infection and as a result my immune system was killed off so i had to be given several strong medications to counter act the damage . I was in such a dark place then as i looked like a freak and lost my lovely thick long hair due to the infection and my bipolar meant i thought everyone was staring and laughing at me when i ventured out of my sole room . 8 months on from then im still not healed but alot better i am covered in scars physically and emotionally . I have now been diagnosed with pemphigus vulgarias a very rare immune condition where it attacks your skin thinking its a threat which was triggered by my reaction in may so now i am constantly breaking out in very painful blisters that scab over and are hard to heal i am now at great risk of serious infection etc and i refuse to live life worrying so i just keep smiling and living life the best i can i am about to start treatment which involves killing my immune system so il be at even greater risk of serious issues and more hospitals .
By clair lissenden8 years ago in Psyche
