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Today. I am thinking of trauma. I love being able to blog and say whatever I please. I can not be judged. Thinking back to that moment, when I woke up slumped over placed in a position like a rag doll, naked. I did not give permission to take my clothes off. It is sick. I hope he remembers it ...to his last living day, because it is not my problem he chose to do that. And to all the people that judge and talk about me because of that, that is there problem too. I feel bad for them. I se
It’s story time with yours truly. I haven’t posted a blog in a while, but I have something to share with you all. I did make a post about some of this, but I’m going to delve into the details here!
The last blog I wrote was right after I finished the outpatient programs I was attending, and I discharged from that at the end of October. It’s now the end of the year and I’m going to update you on the rest of the year and do my year-end recap!
I guess I’m just going to jum
So this is one of those times that I really wish I was completely different type of person. Instead of sheltering everything inside, I wish I let everything out. Well at least most things. Right now I feel anxiety swelling up but there is no one to reach out to. I shelter so much of myself that I have shut the world out and people I have known for years.
Now there is no one to reach out to and say I need a safer space. No one to reach out to and say I am not ok. No one to reach out to and s
How did you feel the first time you were validated? From my own experience and so many others I know, the answer seems to be 'relieved'. Living with a truth you know to be real, all by yourself, can be lonely, tormenting, frustrating and confusing. Then you find a voice, risk using it and someone says, "I believe you". They then offer support you never thought you deserved or were entitled to, they validate your trauma and the aftermath you carry and offer the comfort you've craved for far too l
I didnt know you have panic attacks and remain sleep. What the heck is that?
So here I am sleeping what I thought was peacefully. I am in a dream. For some reason I have left home and taken in by another family. The are kind and have kids already of their own. I asked the mother a questiin that at this moment I cant think of. The answer given was one that suggested that was not my real question. I am confused like yes it's what I want to know. The mother says to call her back when I am no
When I heard about people healing from trauma, they made it sound like a journey with an end. You reflected and learned and grew as a person. You learned forgiveness and healthier habits. What they didnt say or I never heard, is that healing is ongoing. It begins from the moment the trauma ends until the day you die.
I never heard them say that even when you think you have made it past the large hurdles, hurdles pop up all the time. Sometimes they are small. They show in the form of brief
Some days I wonder if he cares how he has made me feel? We were close for so many years, and after that first night I never spoke to him again. It hurts to know what he did, and that he didn't admit it. Will he ever? The hardest thing is to know he hasn't paid for it. In the bigger scheme, shouldn't someone who committed rape have to face the consequences in the eyes of the law. I feel like I am waiting for a call from the detective, all the time... waiting for the words he admitted to eve
He was seven months old.
She was the first of my childhood friends to have a baby.
She had gotten married in January and he was born in April. Though she loved him dearly, she wondered what people in our closed, Conservative circle would say.
But I loved her for it. Because everyone who has walked the hard paths of life in a broken Creation know sorrow.
I knew it. And I knew that she knew it.
She was the first of my friends to get married, and to have a baby.
I just happened to glance at my phone as the text flashed across my screen.
"NEVER let anyone walk to their car alone. Sarah* was almost grabbed last night by a man in a ski mask. She got away but he exposed himself to her."
I sputtered. The girl on the other side of the Zoom call was waiting for me to speak, but whatever we had been discussing faded away like fog being burned by the sun.
After the call was finished, I re-read the text. My heart dropped. My hands felt clammy.
You know when you just want so badly to be a normal person, but no matter how hard you fucking try, you can't?
I don't think I'll ever be normal. My relationships will never be normal. My sex life will never be normal.
I don't want extraordinary. I just want fucking normal.
I was scrolling through Reddit.
"What's one thing you wish you'd never gone through?" Ahh, AskReddit, the deeply philosophical subreddit. One of my favorites.
I paused before I wrote. "I was a victim of domestic violence from sixteen to eighteen," I began. "It's made me a better therapy student," I admitted, "but I could do without the lingering anxiety and PTSD."
For the first time in therapy a few weeks ago, I had acknowledged that I wasn't sorry the abuse had happened. I w
Something that may come as no surprise to some, is the fact that being a young and easily manipulated teenager with unregulated wifi in their house... is quite dangerous for the child's safety.
I was 14. A young and very insecure girl, with a laptop and a newfound curiosity for multiplayer games, chatrooms and omegle. Oh, omegle. That bloody website. I wish I didn't know about it... but all the cool Youtubers were using it. It was an enticing concept, meeting new people with other experienc
I woke up this morning with the usual nest of 'bed head' hair plastered across a slightly puffy, 'pillow wrinkle' marked face that hasn't worn make-up for 10 months and had a revelation of sorts - and it relates to the fact that I couldn't give a flying shite that I continue to look like a bit of a mess throughout the day.
What others see on the outside has never been a priority to me (or my husband...thankfully), and I certainly don't judge a book by its cover, but comments can hurt, cause
I don't know why I'm writing a blog post. I'm writing a blog post because of multiple things.
1. I feel like hurting myself, and I do not want to do that again.
Most days, I can forget it happened. My brain puts those memories somewhere they feel small, insignificant.
But sometimes I feel like I'm cracking. Like a dam with a crumbling foundation, and I'm holding the water back, but there are cracks in this dam, there are cracks and I will, eventually, one day, break.
I have read a lot lately about not knowing what to write or say. If only I could truly express my feelings in words. I want to live my life knowing I never knew it was going to happen. Was there a reason it happened? Don't they say everything happens for a reason. What is the reasoning for this. I am meant to relive these nights just because. My counselor seems understanding, and is what I always wanted. I know I can not live with the memories creeping back daily. If someone passes away
To whom it may concern,
I don't think about my trauma as much anymore. I don't wake up screaming every night anymore. I don't pull away from someones touch as often anymore. Those things are still there and probably always will be. Cruel reminders, scars that will always be there no matter how much I age, but with time, I've learned to breathe through the trauma, quiet the screams, and force myself closer to the people I want close.
It's not that it isn't still scary or isn't still pa
Triggers: the unwelcome hand that flips the switch on a time machine and forces you back to moments you crave to forget. I never thought I'd fully grasp the meaning of it all until this year when I started putting the puzzle pieces together.
Many of my strange foibles and reactions to situations over the last three decades now sit in the 'bigger picture' perfectly when I look at my jigsaw as the final image takes shape, but plenty are still a mystery. Over many years, even through childhood
I blocked him years ago. So why is he on a new page trying again? We havent talked or seen each other in over 10 years. Nothing has changed. I dont want to see him in person or virtually!! I dont ask about him and I will never ask about him!! The only thoughts I have about him are about what he did to me. Family or not, I dont need or want him in life! Stay in the shadows you sick m*****f*****!!! I am blocking your a** again! Leave me alone! I hate the fact that we are even related and I am clos
It’s been a long time and I am so excited to be writing again!
Not only have I missed you all, but I have missed the therapy that comes with writing and releasing everything. So much has happened since I last wrote a blog entry, and I am going to start sharing some of that!
Most recently, I just finished a two-month long outpatient mental health program and it was life changing. I’m wishing I would’ve kept my blog going during this process so I could talk about what happened each week
I just got home from dropping my child off at daycare and I cried on the way home. BUT they were good, healing tears. So hang in there with the story…it does have a good ending.
Rewind to yesterday morning. I’m getting ready to go out the door amidst the mad rush of getting shoes on, backpacks ready, thermoses filled, coats on, the approximately 1,000,000 things that all need to be done when getting a 3 and 4 year-old out the door. My youngest child says in a scared voice, Is T going to be
I finally reported. I felt sick to my stomach. I felt as though I was watching myself. The number of years I had longed to tell an officer my story and it was happening. I can't describe how it felt to tell another person, not my counselor, or you guys, or my support group. I hope for the best, and is the best being he is held accountable, yes. I fear nothing will come of it, and I will be heart broken. I read an entry this morning about apologies. Ever since that day, I no longer let th
So, I've had ptsd for a while now. Since the accident 9 years ago.
I was moving when I got hit from behind. Like all my stuff was packed I. The back of my truck. And then my whole life just exploded.
For a long time I thought my brain was broken. Like wtf was wrong with me that I could survive so much. So much neglect, abuse, just all the shit. All the very personal, directed at me shit. But a random asshole from outta nowhere hits me and my brain starts to crumble? Like it was so impe