trauma
At its core, trauma can be thought of as the psychological wounds that persist, even when the physical ones are long gone.
The Weight of Labels
I did not get angry because I was attacked. I got angry because I felt invisible. That is what labeling does. It reduces a human being—a soul with thoughts, experiences, and convictions—into a set of categories that can be dismissed before they even speak.
By Peter Thwing - Host of the FST Podcast3 months ago in Psyche
The Facts on Domestic Violence. Content Warning.
This article contains content that may be triggering to some readers. Please view at your own discretion. If you or someone you know is in danger, please see the list of help lines and supports listed at the end of this article.
By choreomania3 months ago in Psyche
The Silence of The Tiger
I just got back from visiting New Jersey two nights ago, and the whole trip left an immense impact on me. Not only did I recognize the simmering emotional chaos brewing in me minute by minute, I also witnessed how an unhealthy environment can derail regulation and healing. During those 11 days, I watched the tiger inside me slowly awaken — and there was nothing I could do to stop it.
By Yu-Shan Chen3 months ago in Psyche
How EMDR helped me become more peaceful with my Past…but left me with me in the Present.
There’s a wellness tool for just about everything these days. Flotation tanks, cold plunges, CBT, DBT, gratitude journals, breathwork, yoga, journalling, medication, meditation, crystals, herbal, holistic, homoeopathic...You name it, I’ve tried it. Some worked a little, some not at all, and most just reminded me how deeply annoying it is to try and meditate when your brain is busy replaying a drunk argument from 2016 while worrying if your Hello Fresh delivery driver thinks you’re rude.
By Chelsea Branch3 months ago in Psyche
The Mirror That Forgot Me. AI-Generated.
I used to trust mirrors. They were honest. Brutally honest. They didn’t lie like people did — didn’t flatter, didn’t soften, didn’t pretend. Every morning, my reflection greeted me with the same tired eyes, the same half-committed smile, the same quiet acceptance of who I was.
By Mr. Jackie3 months ago in Psyche







