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Most recently published stories in Psyche.
To My Younger Self.
"Ooh-oo child things are gonna get easier. Ooh-oo child things'll get brighter." - Ohh-oo Child- The Five Stairsteps https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X6zbwLQFjRM&ab_channel=3spiritoftruth
Kerri MiLLsPublished 3 years ago in PsycheThere is life after Sexual Trauma
I am a woman now at the age of 41, but my trauma started at age 9. I loved spending the summer with my Granny and Papa because it meant I got to drive the riding mower or pickup out to check on the cows. I got to be a free spirited little girl with the world at my fingertips. All the girls in my family was always told to not sit on Papa's lap or watch out for Jay when he is drinking and as an innocent soul I didn't know why. Now I do. My grandfather sexually abused me from the age of 9 to 12. Every summer. He said it was how he showed his love but even at such a young age I knew that was not love. Love does not make you feel that way. It first started with him just touching me on top of my clothes and by the time I got my voice and said no my innocence was gone. He would let me drive the pickup to the store to get me alone and secluded from everyone so he could touch me and when I would tell him no he would force his hands down my pants. One summer he created a project for me to do with him so that he would insure that I would be alone with him for hours in his shop. There was an old 50's model Mack dump truck that needed to be restored. I remember being so proud when he asked me to help him and he would name the truck Rachel, after me. I also remember sanding the rust off and getting it ready to be painted as Papa was under the hood working on the motor. It took all summer, many hours of being alone with that evil man. Every time that I looked at "Rachel" throughout my life I would get physically sick thinking of the horrors that I had to endure to get the right to have that truck named after me. Now, every time I go back home to visit and drive that damn truck I think of how much I have changed, grown, and moved on from that timid little girl to a strong woman with a voice. This was not an easy task by any means. I have years of counseling, therapy, depression, anxiety, nightmares, thoughts of suicide, self destructive behavior, battling addictions and demons, but I am whole again. I've learned who I am, that the trauma in my life does not define my life. Even after he was incarcerated for sexually abusing 6 little girls in the neighborhood the family stood behind him. We would go on family visitation days to the prison and Granny would have this delicious homemade food all in clear containers so we could bring the food into the prison. The other inmates who looked after Jay would always get to eat with the family too. You see I never told anyone about those summers except for my sisters best friend when I was 12. I was 14 when he went to prison. My friend told her mom who told her friend who was my other Granny's hairdresser who asked her how I was handling Jay's trial. That was how my family found out...thru the grapevine. By then I was already showing signs of severe depression and couldn't think of a time when I was ever really happy. I didn't feel anything but soul wrenching despair that was so strong my heart constantly hurt and was always on the verge of tears. My mom always had us involved in the local church and I was able to be a normal teenager when I was there but youth group couldn't last forever. I had to go home to my thoughts. My thoughts were about to break me when I found out that I could write my emotions out into poems. I was actually pretty good at it and I felt a tiny bit lighter every time a journaled or wrote down my feelings and emotions. I was healing but didn't know it. Now, as I sit here writing this, telling my story, I realized not only am I healed but I have never written down that story. I've played it out millions of times in my head. I've criticized myself for not saying anything and maybe those other 6 girls may have been saved from his horrific actions. He was an old man that only had one leg but he destroyed so many girls lives. He supposedly was saved by Jesus and now a Christian man when he was released from prison on his deathbed. I was 20 and found myself with no where to go so Granny took me in until I could get on my feet. Granny was a true angel from heaven who I love so much still today. She is the kindest most generous person I know. She is from the era that you stand by your man no matter what, and you never betray family.(ironic I know) I was grateful but a little scared of being around him. One night they went to bed and I was watching TV, I had alot of restless nights where my mind would not shut off. I heard him get up and heard his wheelchair take him to the bathroom. Before I knew it he was next to me in his wheelchair and reached out and grabbed my boob and said how they got bigger than before. Well I wasn't that timid little girl from before either. I looked him straight in the eyes and let him know how much of a sick man that I thought he was. I got to tell him he would never touch me again and if he did it would be the last thing he would do alive. He hung his head and wheeled into the dining room to have a cigarette and that was the last time a saw or spoke to him again. I moved away from my hometown and fell in love and got married and had kids of my own by the time he finally died. I did not travel back for his funeral, I did not mourn the loss of him. My kids will never know the evilness of Jay. I'm grateful for that. I will never be able to know what my life would be like if I didn't live with CPTSD from long term exposure to childhood trauma, but I wouldn't be this strong either. There is life after sexual trauma.
Rachel IsomPublished 3 years ago in PsycheYour End of Suffering
As a coach and hypnotherapist by day, I assist people with overcoming their personal daemons, limiting beliefs, emotional issues and traumatic experiences, amongst many, many other things...
Konrad SzeklickiPublished 3 years ago in PsycheMy medical emergency flight landing
A little over a year ago, I experienced one of the worst days of my 23 years of living. I was just sitting at work one morning when my fiance (now husband) called and said his father had a heart attack the night before. My fiance's dad and step mom were in San Antonio visiting her daughter who just recently had a baby. My fiance had the plan to leave and go see him. He wanted me to stay home. I protested. I should have listened to him and stay home. But I am a Taurus and extremely stubborn.
Krista GarlockPublished 3 years ago in PsycheThe Final Breath
Later started his thanksgiving holiday differently this year, previously he’d be back at home helping cook and prepare on thanksgiving eve, but this year he was in a hotel with a guy he met from a dating app. His name Matt: a handsome guy, but damaged. He came back to town from the west coast and he was going crazy being back in his toxic household. Later could also sense he was hurting. Later was a deep empath and healer, so naturally, he wanted to heal Matt but Later failed to realize that “you can’t heal everyone” and that people can only save themselves. Later tried to lend a listening ear, a compassionate heart, but Matt couldn’t see it. He was too blinded by his thoughts and the hurt that he was enduring that it capsized Matt. Later on in the day, it was about 1 pm they got food. Later practically fasted the last two days, so this was his first meal. The food also gave him enough energy to think and lie down for a while. Matt was sitting up on the bed chilling, and Later was adjacent lying down both of them in their worlds. Later then began to think, and think. It was the first time he sat down with himself and indulged his mind. Later finally felt his feelings, and he decided that today I’m going to feel this, and he began to cry. He cried, and cried. Then he laughed. Matt noticed and replied, “I can’t tell if you’re laughing or crying?” Later wiped his tears, and replied “Both” Matt tried his best to comfort Later by rubbing on his back and giving encouraging words, but he wasn’t listening only projecting his own experience onto Later.
Deandric TVPublished 3 years ago in PsycheChildhood Ruined
Ramona always felt alone through her entire life. She did not think anything could be as lonely as her childhood. She was so alone. Ramona used to play outside until all her friends went inside. She was always alone by the end of the night. She went through so many traumatic events. Ramona was molested a few times, held hostage, and raped 2 times before she was only twelve years old. Her mom was always getting evicted and they were always moving into different neighborhoods. She was always being bullied by the other kids because she was poor and she wore the same clothes to school. Once her stepdad, Roy, dropped her off to school with no shoes. He was in a hurry to get to work and he didn't realize that she was in school like that. Ramona just cried and ran straight to the counselor's office. The counselor took her to a local department store, and got Ramona some shoes. Ramona started to remember that her childhood was filled with bad memories.
Gina R (Gibana)Published 3 years ago in PsycheWhat the hell is an Empath?
Empath. We've all seen or heard that word somewhere. Most would never think to look any further into it, writing it off as some overused e-girl term.
Halley SherwoodPublished 3 years ago in PsycheDepression through my eyes
From a young age depression and anxiety has always made me feel like it was a dark shadow following me everywhere I go. To everyone around me I am sweet, nice, always have a smile on my face and I am quiet. I sit back and watch everyone else, but what they do not know is that in my mind a am analyzing everything that is being said to and about me. I am an extremely sensitive person and since I was young, I have had people point out my flaws.
Shannon BilyeuPublished 3 years ago in PsycheTo All the Men I loved before.
To all the men I loved before... To All The Girls I've Loved Before- Willie Nelson, Julio Iglesias https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dAmrCiwNq-Y&ab_channel=AndyAnders
Kerri MiLLsPublished 3 years ago in PsycheMy life
My life was difficult for me from the beginning. It got worse as I got older. Fear can rule so much Of your life. At the age of one, I got adopted by my grandparents; my bio mom couldn't take care of Me. She was 16 years of age. Yes, my bio mother is currently my sister. No, I didn't know that at the time. I grew up thinking she was my sister and my grandparents were my bio parents. I found out at the age of six, that wasn't the case. I found out that I was adopted, and that Strike me. It hit so hard that I mentally was hurt and didn't talk nor trust anyone. It was a difficult time for me. Then at the age of ten, I found out that my sister/bio mom was Raped. Oh, you should understand that it was harder on me now that I found that out. I don't think a child should hear that making me think that all I was was a mistake. I couldn't wrap my head around what I had been told. They told me that they said to me because they didn't want anyone else to tell me. No one was going to say anything to me. The kids at my school didn't know anything, and I didn't talk to adults. I was angry at home. It was bad. I throw things and breaking things. At the age of 16, I got my driver's license. I started hanging out with two girls and staying out all night, meeting guys, and having sex with strangers. I know not a smart thing to do. But it happened. I met my first daughter's father at 17. 18, and I got pregnant with a boy I met at Walmart. He told me he didn't want anything to do with the child, and I haven't talked to him since. Back at the age of 17, I started talking to a guy from Washington State. I flew there for a week, and it didn't work out between and him and me. When I got back home, I met another guy. His name is Chuck. He was a very abusive guy. He raped me and hit me. I had to get a protection order against him. It got worse, my life was crumbling, and I didn't know what to do. I did try suicide; it didn't work. At the age of 19, I met another guy online. He was amazing. We were together three years gave birth to a baby girl 2 1/2 years After being together. We broke up ten months after she was born. I was broken and started selling myself with a friend of mine. She introduced me to that world. We met up with the men together for safety. One night we met up with this guy, and it was a nightmare. Not going to get into all the details of him, but he sells girls to other men. His name. Was Andrew Summers. After everything that happened to him, I got out of that life. God protected me and saved me. I started back to church and have been going ever since. I am now 29 years old. I live with my parents. Yes, I know that it is old to be living with my parents and kids. I have a fear of living by myself. I have a suspicion he would find me living alone and me not having anyone around to protect me. I haven't dated since my Youngest daughter's father. I have learned to be safe and not naive when trying to date someone Or meet people. Hopefully, this next year, I can get away from my fear and move out and live alone with my children. No, this is not the whole story, but it is a lot of my life story.
The Prison In My Mind
Sadness has been closer to me than my deepest love, and more committed than any dear friend. I do not remember a time when it has not been nearby. From childhood, the cloud of melancholy hovered over me like an umbrella for one. In my youth, I knew not what it was, but began to welcome it as a secret indulgence. Being a young adult, it remained challenging to adequately expound on what I was feeling. So, I acted it out with numerous suicide attempts. In the beginning, I was merely screaming for help and hoping someone would pay attention. Over time, my approach changed to a deep desire to permanently hush the cries inside my heart. On those few occasions I would confide in someone about my bleak moods, my words would be quickly dismissed with, “Girl, ain’t nothin' wrong with you.” So, I would work to convince myself that there was nothing wrong with me, despite my manic behavior.
Fatima C. OliverPublished 3 years ago in PsycheMy Life
My name is Kimica Sledge, I am Thirty-three years old. I have been married for 4 years and we have a daughter who just turned 7 years old and a son who is 1 years old. I am sharing this part of me because it is so hard for those who live with mental illness and feel they are not worthy of a family, friendships or any kind of relationships. We (the mentally ill) carry the weight of the world on our shoulders. We tend to believe we can not prosper in life or can not have a somewhat a normal life. We struggle to speak what's on our minds because we believe no one will hear us or understand us. Well, I am here to tell you, you can. I am going to give little bit of my history and how I became the woman I am today.
Kimica SledgePublished 3 years ago in Psyche