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Showing results for tags 'trigger warning'.
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Hi, AS Family! I miss journaling. I really do. I’m first of all, thankful that there is some downtime at work where I can do some writing. Today is such a day and I’ve had a few somethings to ponder, lately. I often read posts that leave me nodding my head in agreement or in silent understanding. Or, of course, feeling as if I could have written these words, myself. While it’s kinda daunting at times, it’s also one of the many benefits of group healing. How validating it is, to be told that I am not the only one with these thoughts - that one or two or more of these are running
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I'm supposed to write about trust for therapy next week. I'll write down some ideas here over the next week. It is very hard to trust anyone. I don't trust anyone to care for me, to protect me or to put myself first. I trust my parents to be self interested and self preserving. I trust my brother (abuser) to be self interested and to ignore the validity of my pain. I've accepted the fact that trust is fickle and the people closest to you will be the ones to let you down. Blood relations don't mean too much. If I do have trust in someone it can be very easily broken by the mo
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TRIGGER WARNING FOR GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF SA. PLEASE BE CAUTIOUS IF READING AHEAD. EMDR is rough. At my last T session, K and I processed some SA trauma that took place when I was about 6-7 years old. Some of it, I was prepared for. I knew he tried to have sex with me in a closet. Some of you may even know that. If You want the story on that one, I have a blog titled “The Closet” where I delve into what I remembered from that event. I don’t remember all of the details… I don’t think he w— As I was writing that sentence, I remembered the part I wasn’t clear on. I knew he t
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trigger warning Another thing I loved, Ruined.
asparkofcourage posted a blog entry in A Weight Lifted
Hello. I've been reading and thinking and contemplating about my life. About all the things that have happened to me. I'm currently a stay at home dog mom with little to no friends and all the time in the world. Now that I've been spending so much time with myself, I've realized... I don't even know me all that well. I think I got so caught up with my husband's dr. career that I've lost a sense of what I wanted to do with my own life. And then searching through my own thoughts about what I want for myself have made me realize that I've never been able to pursue what I love because it was -
Well, first off, I don't remember much. Just a few very vivid images, a lot of crying and watching myself from the corner of the room. My abuser was my oldest brother. I was 9 and he was 14 or 15 at the time. The most of one incident I remember is when my 2 other brothers were playing videogames and were completely engrossed in it. My 3rd brother (the oldest) put a blanket on top of me on his bed and told everyone in the room he was just going to massage me. I was just still, unmoving and very confused. He touched me and made me touch him. I had no clue what to do so he literally
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I've been doing some reading. "It Didn't Start with You." -by Mark Wolynn and to be honest, I can't believe some of the things that my family have survived through. How we are all still together and existing in the normal everyday world is baffling. This book helped me to discern what is my trauma, what trauma is being repeated within the family and how to break the cycle. It's going to be a rough ride so please bear with me. Maternal My mothers family grew up in poverty with very little education. Let's start as far back as I can. My great grandfather. (I won't give him nam
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Its been awhile- things have been good overall but that doesn't mean it hasn't been tough. I've been doing a lot of work in therapy lately with EMDR. Usually, after sessions I feel a lot of things and I find the best way for me to process them is through writing.
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“I love you,” you said to me that night, You love me, I told myself when I woke in the morning. You seem certain about this. It seems there isn’t much you know though. You don’t know that I scrubbed my skin until it turned red and broke I felt unpure. Don’t know I couldn’t sleep, I still can’t. One eye open because I am scared. Things you do know terrify me. You know where I stay, where I sleep. You know I have a beauty mark under my left breast. I shouldn’t have to worry about you knowing too much. That isn’t love. So
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Hi everyone, I did read the rules, though I’m still unsure of what I can really say. Apologies in advance if I do anything wrong. Last week I was raped. I’m not ready to go into specific details, but I am having a really hard time and I don’t know anyone that has been assaulted so I’m really struggling. I’m safe now and at home. I sort of know the person who raped me, we had seen each other around campus. I accepted a ride because it was cold out, and that’s where things went wrong. I chose not to go to the hospital and I haven’t told anyone. I’m still in a lot of pain physicall
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Before everything happened with him, I never truly understood how victims minds worked. It’s a weird thing really. My friend told me about how she had been sexually assaulted at a young age. I always wondered why she didn’t just tell her dad. Or, when I watched tv why a victim would just let their abuser get away with what they did. Of course I sympathized with them, but I could never truly understand. Sometimes I wish I couldn’t truly understand. A lot of times really. I wish I didn’t know what it was like to not be able to tell your parents because you aren’t sure how they would react.
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trigger warning Installment Two: The Party
Capulet posted a blog entry in A Grain of Salt & A Pound of Chocolate
Also posted in Share Your Story: Installment Two: The Party I am now fast-forwarding, (or rewinding, depending on how old I was in your minds upon completing reading of the first installment) to when I was seventeen years old as I bring to you all, installment 2 of my story. This is the full, uncensored version of what was shared back in 2007. One would think that as time goes on, you’re likely to forget some details. While that may be the case for some, I WISH that was true for me. Time has gone on, but in some ways, remained stationary – frozen, almost -
I have been talking to my long distance ex that is my BF again…but there’s this wall. Every time I want to knock it down…every time we talk about something sexual that makes me think back to what’s been done to me…thinking about it now makes me want to vomit… he said something the other day that we were talking about and it has had me triggered since. he helped a girl by giving her a ride home, that was drunk and alone left by her bf at his place of work, crying without a ride or phone in the parking lot. He’s a good guy and he gave her a ride home. But he half making a joke but also
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Between hushed pants and ‘I love you’s’ I laid silent. How could someone who claimed to love me so much do this to me? The ceiling is to keep one closed in and safe, So why when I looked at the ceiling was I in danger Through rhythms that repeated, I prayed for it to be over. “It only lasts A few minutes” I told myself I reassured myself I’d keep you forever this way No matter how many times I let you do it despite it ruining my sanity, You left. It happened so often I twisted it in my mind and told myself that this was your way of love,
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trigger warning Crawling out from under the debris....
Capulet posted a blog entry in A Grain of Salt & A Pound of Chocolate
Well, folks… It’s been a minute? Or two? Or…like…six months? I have returned to this blog many times over the last six months with an itch to write. To vent, to yell, scream and cry on paper/screen. But, then, I’d close it out following an exasperated, ‘never mind.’ This is typical me, though. I tend to let things build up and then to sit down and write about it all will feel like a more daunting task because by then, there’s a lot that’s piled up and I’m more likely to be saying, ‘oh, yeah, and there was also THAT time….’ I suppose the moral of that story is to NOT stop tal -
TW: Infant Loss - rest in peace, sweet angel
SoulSong posted a blog entry in Tales of a Songbird Learning to Fly
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. And she's the first of my friends to lose a baby. Ten days before Christmas. So my best frien -
I'm a psychology student, but until this summer I didn't know about repressed memories. I was a sophomore in college. It was the height of the COVID-19 pandemic - or at least, I hoped it was. I had been exposed and I was living in a house for two weeks with my other friends who were exposed. I was living an hour away from home - and I had never moved out before. I had to get a COVID test before I could go home to my parents and my animals. My cousin was driving me, because my anxiety was through the roof that day. I had heard that some patients who were tested got migraines afte
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first post Enter Lame Title Here
SoulSong posted a blog entry in Tales of a Songbird Learning to Fly
"Blackbird singing in the dead of night, Take your broken wings and learn to fly . . . " I remember hearing that for the first time. I think it was Kel who sent it to me. I liked him, Kel. He was tall, stocky, reminded me of my dad, but my age. And I liked him as if just yesterday I was fourteen. But that makes sense, because the years between then and now are fuzzy at best. Kel had an affinity for the Beatles. Oh, when I say it that way - it sounds cute. Like Kel wasn't a megafan, like he didn't talk about them every chance he got or know every song. Kel's attract -
fuck you and fuck your bullshit apology you can shove it up your ass
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It would be nice to have a chance to sit down and deal with my current issues without more shit piling on top of it. I know it’s life but this whole journey is becoming to much again. It’s like walking down a path of broken glass, your feet are bleeding and all cut up and you turn down another path only to find out there’s more glass on the road. You don’t have any other way to go so you have to keep going forward even though there’s glass on the road and if you go back there’s still gonna be glass on the road! To add to the bullshit I now might be a diabetic. I’m experiencing
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Hi everyone! I hope everyone is doing well in this strange time in history (pandemic and national BLM uprising!) I am new to After Silence. I am also new to the healing process. I am not sure how to go about this, but from what I have seen, AS is a great community where I will hopefully find support among fellow survivors. I am a college student studying history. I love to read and write, especially about politics. I hope that I can incorporate writing and reading into my healing process (I've heard that Body Keeps the Score is a good book. Any thoughts on this?) Anyways, I am here i
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Hello, I'm really unsure where to start. I've sought "help" before on hotlines, crisis centers etc only to be left feeling hopeless and frustrated. I've never gone to therapy after my assault. I've never told anyone what happened to me. I'm not sure if I ever will. I have no friends anymore (moving around too much). My family will never know. I have pretty bad PTSD but its been slightly better since I moved away from my old place where it occurred. Anything I write on here will be extremely vague due to him stalking and harassing me, that paranoia will always be there whether or not he's
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I am new here. I was SA in February of this year, I am greatful to have this site. --+++Trigger warning++++++ It was done by a guy I was seeing and his cousin... +++++end of sensitive part... (I am not positive I did that right) Anyway...I have been really struggling with sleep, seems the memories all come when I'm trying to sleep. I have began SI behavior which I've done in the past. I am struggling with friends and family, its like the things I used to love, I don't want to do anymore. I have been keeping so much in and don't really have anyone who understands. Sometimes
