trauma
At its core, trauma can be thought of as the psychological wounds that persist, even when the physical ones are long gone.
An Open Letter to My Attacker/s
I’m writing this to you, the ones who have forgotten about me, who walk past me on the street & who do not remember who I am or what you did. The hard part being that you had completely forgotten me & 12 years on, I haven’t forgotten a thing. I’m almost certain you’ll never read this but try to remember me...
By Emma Pilgrim8 years ago in Psyche
Feeling Like a Burden
I feel like such a burden. I have my problems, my agitative depression, my uneven serotonin levels, my yelling in my room I try desperately to curb. I use humor, venting through writing, busying myself with tasks, focusing on the cuteness of my cat, crying it out, anything I can think of to stop myself from being this yelling monster that disturbs others by her yelling.
By Alexandra F8 years ago in Psyche
Unexpected Friendship: Part One
I used to be in an abusive relationship. All the text book red flags and warning signs were present, however, I was being played by a narcissistic sociopath, and man, those people are good at what they do! ( I am in no way trying to down play the severity of this situation, I am just finally at a point in my life where I can use humor and sarcasm when I tell this horrendous story).
By RaeAnna Mercado8 years ago in Psyche
Thirty Stitches, A Concussion, & the First Day of my Junior Year
It is pitch black and I cannot tell if I am dreaming. I remember a bike, a car, a curb, and then, did someone punch me in the eye? I wake up disoriented in the backseat of an ambulance. Sirens are blaring, and a man I’ve never seen before is dabbing my cheek with what I assume are cotton balls with some form of antiseptic on them. My facial expression remains stoic, but internally I am panicking. I touch my face, then look at my hand and see blood. It has a watery consistency, not at all like the blood in the movies. He asks me questions to keep me present and distract me from the blood, and it works. He asks me about school, and I actually laugh. Even with a gaping wound, I could not escape the irony of this happening to me the day before my first day of my junior year of high school. My mom shows up at the hospital and I end up with thirty stitches and a mom scared half to death.
By Giselle Omar8 years ago in Psyche
Toxic
To the girls who are toxic with their own lives... you are not alone. When you have lived through so many traumatic experiences, they are always there. You wake up and go to sleep to them. They never go away. Yes, you heal and you learn healthy coping mechanisms. You even succeed at these mechanisms in sporadic spurts. You jump ten steps forward and twenty steps back. Panic attacks are a normal occurrence but these are not the kind of panic attacks that most people talk about. You don’t have trouble breathing. You have trouble forming a full thought. Your mind feels like it is in a war zone constantly and you have nowhere to hide from the speeding bullets coming at your head and aiming to take you out! Sadly, the smallest things can trigger an episode and an episode of the war zone can last days, weeks, or even months. Decisions... HA HA HA! Most of those turn out to be the wrong ones made on snap judgements and based around your current or recurring mood at the time. Then you must deal with the aftermath once you have jumped the gun and made what everyone around you calls a "stupid" decision.
By Jeanette Learn8 years ago in Psyche
That's Not How Your First Love Is Supposed to Go
That's not how your first love is supposed to go. That is what everyone had said to me when I first opened up about the shit-show I thought was love. And after a series of denial and self-hatred I soon came to say it too.
By Leahana Gilbert8 years ago in Psyche
Battling with Self-Harm
The first time I harmed myself I was 7, I’d never heard or knew anything about people hurting themselves before. All I knew was at first I wanted attention. At seven years old you’re supposed to be playing outside, riding bikes, and playing with Barbie dolls. (Those are the things I used to do). Instead of doing childly things I was earning for my mother's attention. I had just started living with her again.
By Uniquely Dess8 years ago in Psyche
I Struggled but Survived
It all began when my parents divorced. I was seven years old, and didn't really understand what was going on. I know now that it was for the best, and I'm glad it happened when I was so young. Although we moved in with my mum's new boyfriend when I was eight years old. We lived in an upside down house; bedrooms downstairs, kitchen and living-room on the upper level. I came home from school one day, and he was downstairs. I walked into the bedroom as I thought my mum was home and he was watching porn with his shorts and boxers down to his ankles. I was eight years old, I didn't understand it at all. I just walked out and went into my bedroom. It then progressed to him coming into my bedroom at night and doing business over me. Again, I had no idea what was going on, and I was left to clean up the mess. Nobody seemed to notice that my behaviour was becoming progressively worse and I was playing up a lot more. I would see my biological father on weekends, have a really great, relaxing time and then when I'd go home, I would play up and my mum would think that it was because I'd seen my Dad, when in reality, it was because I was back at home.
By Emily Fowler8 years ago in Psyche
