trauma
At its core, trauma can be thought of as the psychological wounds that persist, even when the physical ones are long gone.
Threading the Needle Through the Eye of Transcendence
It is a feeling of weightlessness, of an absence of time, of space. Synchronously this vast nothingness that exists everywhere is filled with the deepest understanding of wholeness, of complete fullness, of truth that lies in the stillness surrounding me. The pursuit of higher states of consciousness is what inspires me, and the practice of transcendence is what keeps me grounded, de-stressed and in a state of peace.
Storied ToriPublished 3 years ago in PsycheHidden Costs of Narcissistic Abuse
I am now treating my intuition as my spirit, my belief system, and I believe in myself. I will no longer abandon myself or my beliefs because I don't want to get sick again. My body knew, and I got sick. It started with brain fog, hypothyroidism, breast problems, cysts in the body, heavy menses, and much more. All symptoms...
Christa Cusack O'NeillPublished 3 years ago in PsycheJohn
John is a bad name. Every day is a day of war. Every few days are good days but for the most part, there are constant shots being made. There is always an underlying monster waiting to take a hold of someone from our family. Most of the time the monster takes hold of my dad. I guess he is pretty weak. He stomps around searching for any type of weakness or problems.
SJ AugustinePublished 3 years ago in PsychePhantom Inheritance
Lately I’ve been having the same recurring nightmare. The kind where each time I wake up I’m not really sure whether the nightmare is over or if it’s just starting again.
Hank RyderPublished 3 years ago in PsycheTime's Up
I can’t quite hear myself think, the television is blaring, and the smell of maple pancakes and hickory smoked bacon appear to waltz around my nostrils. I didn’t even realize it had started; my fingers were nervously tapping upon the wooden table as I considered what I would do next.
MK ColbertPublished 3 years ago in PsycheMy Dark Guardian Angel
The wind pushed against my face; I felt weightless. Suddenly, I stopped. I opened my eyes and saw the ground near my face. Looking up, I became aware that everything that frozen. My dress and hair were frozen flying in ripples behind me, and the leaves on the trees were frozen in a paused wind. I didn’t know what was happening; I had never died before, maybe this was normal. I heard a slow clapping, breaking through the silence. I looked around to find the source, but I didn’t see one.
Christan TracyPublished 3 years ago in PsycheThe Baptism and the Bake Sale
She sought a nepenthes… something to mute the pain… banish the memories. An analgesia of monumental proportions. Her story was markedly different. It was sadly unique. No one could identify the hardships, the abuse, the trauma, the pain, by having a conversation with her (surface), by seeing her (beauty), by meeting her (personally). There were no tell tale signs of the wrenching PTSD that lurked/lingered/proliferated beneath her outer layer, like lava within a volcano, denied by the very ones who owed her assistance.
Jalyn JanvierPublished 3 years ago in PsycheUnderstanding Trauma
For the rest of this week, I'm going to focus on Trauma and how it can greatly impact a person's life and ability to deal with the every day.
Rebecca BrooksPublished 3 years ago in PsycheThrough the Darkness to New Beginnings
“Now I am strong and lapped in sorrow As in a coat of magic mail and borrow From Time today...” -Stevie Smith I was a precocious child. I had multitudinous interests, mostly of the natural sort, ranging from gardening and hiking to bird-watching and chicken-keeping. The future, it seemed, was laid bare before me—I could see it, practically touch it –and in that future, I was successful, I was enchanted by my work, and, most of all, I was happy. Of course, I would be married, with 2.5 children and a white-picket-fence-house with all the amenities. I would have a dog, and chickens, and perhaps some peafowl and goats. I would garden and I would bird, I would hike and I would rehabilitate wildlife in my spare time— why not? I had all the time in the world. But time, alas, has been a fair-weather friend, and childhood dreams are oft left by the wayside.
Elizabeth NoyesPublished 3 years ago in PsycheSummer Survivor
***TRIGGER WARNING. MENTION OF SE*UAL AS*AULT IN THIS STORY. Sweet summer. For most people my age, summer is a breath of fresh air. A break from the eight hour school day, A break from homework, mean teachers and the early mornings. I remember thinking to myself, "This is going to be the best summer yet". It'll be full of fun, parties and adventure. The summer ended up being the worst of my life.
Kacey BakerPublished 3 years ago in PsycheLost in the Wild
She woke up softly, to the scent of sea salt, cow pies, and alfalfa. It was a distinct smell, one she had come to know well. A single ray of sunlight beamed brightly through the gnarled wooden planks and the gap between two of the old weathered boards. She grimaced as she rolled to her side, her hips sore from the solid ground she slept on. She slowly brushed some hay away from the edge of her dwelling to reveal a series of notches as she carved one more with a small jagged rock; 42.
Avery CecilPublished 3 years ago in PsycheThe Waters of Steel Creek
*Trigger Warning: SA* The smooth neck of the bottle felt cold and harsh in her hand. As she crawled her knees forwards, rough sawdust scratched and left irregular imprints deep in her skin. The opaque green blurred the floor as she took a deep breath and began to spin. She felt sick. Muffled voices grew, her heartbeat drummed before crashing around her ears. Overjoyed shouts washing over her into a crisp, shrill cheer. She looked up, vision hazy and translucent as the eyes locked with the boy across the circle.