trauma
At its core, trauma can be thought of as the psychological wounds that persist, even when the physical ones are long gone.
Retrospect of a Survivor
How could He do this to me? I gave Him everything, anything He desired, and He turned my world upside down and inside out before I could even tell what was happening. He abused me, lied to me, cheated on me. Looking back, it’s all so clear, but when you are looking at a person through rose-tinted glasses, you don’t notice the red flags.
By Alfie Martin5 years ago in Psyche
This mother of mine.
I wasn’t a typical girl. I didn’t fit in with anyone. I was just me. I came from an abusive home, and I was constantly moving from house to house or whomever would house me. As life went on, I came to accept that I would be on my own. I didn’t care about what the world threw at me, I was just focused on survival.
By Tiffany McMurray 5 years ago in Psyche
Me too.
You know, I’ve never told anyone about my sexual assault before. Well, no one besides my therapist. But even that took four years to muster up the courage to do. My own husband doesn’t know. My mother. My friends. No one knows I go to therapy for PTSD rather than just depression and anxiety. Let me start by telling you a little backstory.
By NewTalent145 years ago in Psyche
Narcissistic destruction
I met him in my freshman year. We both attended the alternative school. Him because he was bullied and me because I was always in trouble due to a horrible upbringing with parents who were... let’s just say nonexistent. So starting off I was dealing with issues of abandonment and security issues. But he was the class clown and made me smile and that was a big deal for me. All he had to do was make me smile. And just like that I loved him. Or so I thought. I’ve since learned in therapy I more clang to him out of Ute desperation just to feel liked, loved or anything really. I was the one who made the move. Well my best friend at the time did. Kim was her name or her made up name for this stories purpose. She told him I liked him. And from that moment on we spent everyday together. He drove me to and from school. I knew from the first date he wasn’t only attracted to women. He checked out men in front of me. But I told him it was fine. That as long as he was with me and only me it didn’t bother me. We were dating about 6 months the first time he had an affair. He worked at a restaurant as a cook and a gay server started there. And every night after work he would come see me. Well this night he shows up with the other man. He tells me I am riding in the back and if I didn’t like it then get out. I wish daily that I would have went back to that moment and got out. But I had nobody to love me at the time and thought I needed him. So I spent the next 2 hours riding around with my boyfriend and his lover. He devoted all his time and attention to the other guy. But I said nothing. He took us both home and I was sick over it. But I stayed. About 2 months later my parent made an announcement. They would be moving several states away and instead of telling me I must go at the age of 16 they gave me the option to stay. So here I thought I was in love and I couldn’t leave. So we got our first apartment. I was 16 he just turned 18. Immediately the daily affairs began. I was stuck he knew it. Every affair came the one night apology followed by the I don’t want to hear you mention the shit again or leave. Followed by a list of musts for me to keep him faithful. This went on for our whole marriage. I started to hate myself and developed a substance abuse problem. I attempted suicide at 17 which landed me institutionalized. Of course as a minor your parents must get you out. But mine said they didn’t want me. So legal emancipation was what came from it. So more abandonment. Years of this went on. But he never physically assaulted me. Sometimes I wish he would have instead of the emotional pain. But we had our son at 19 and 21. Did it slow him?? No. Now he just had a tool to use against me. A little person to constantly brainwash into thinking his mother was bad. Over these years his family and I became very very close. I grew so close with his mom that I started calling her mom. And called her 5 to 6 times a day. Well fast forward a few years. He has yet another affair. I say that’s it I’m done. And I meant it. So he finally agreed to marriage counseling. We chose a sex addiction specialist. She told me 3 options. 1. Allow him to continue cheating and keep being hurt. 2. Open my marriage but us agree to what is allowable and what isn’t. 3. Leave. Well one and three hurt too much to consider so two it was. Well something happened with that. He realized just how many people in the world wanted me now. And he got jealous. So we bring home a man from a gay bar. And that night changed me. He smashed a line of crystal meth on my dresser and said try it. I looked to my husband and said should I?? He said go for it. I flew that night. Never to return. That night was in 2013. My son was 7. I didn’t come back home after that night until 2015. 2 years. Of heroin and meth use. Homelessness with this stranger from the bar. I lost myself. So when I got better in 2015 I wanted to come home. I did and the man I left with hung himself that year which caused a slip. I fell back. But I picked myself up. And a year later another slip. But I knew I could beat this thing. But how. So the next slip I left my husband again. I went to sober living. Only to be served with emergency custody papers. It hurt my heart but I understood. I was not being a stand up mother by any means and my son deserved better. But that letter motivated me. I didn’t pick up again. I moved on. I got my life together. And ever since that day October 31 2018 I have not used a drug or drink to mood alter. Now since then my ex husband yes now ex husband has tried to get me back as soon as I move on. But I don’t fall for it anymore. I know my worth now and I’m so happy alone. And I am alone. He has convinced his family I’m the devil and made up all the affairs and mental abuse. But you know what I don’t answer to him anymore. And I’m happy. Today I’m happy.
By Amanda Trusler5 years ago in Psyche
The beginning
When I was five years old my life took a turn of unexpected changes, but also changes that was very much unwanted. I am the youngest of six siblings, and what most would describe as the black sheep of the family. So one morning as the sun begins to rise, and I can hear the dogs next door to us barking, me and my other three siblings begins to wake up and start our morning off. I remember that morning as if it was yesterday, because I remember having on my long pink “Berenstain Bear” shirt on, and “Dora The Explore” was what I began watching on TV. Two of my other siblings was in the front room playing cards, and my second oldest brother was in his back room, that was adjacent to mines and my third oldest brother. Meanwhile, I was sitting in my bed eating a bowl of “lucky charms, watching tv and my second oldest sister , and third oldest brother comes to ask me, “if I wanted to play cards with?” I proceed to tell them no, and started back watching tv. However, a few minutes later, my third oldest brother walks out of his bedroom and asks, “sweetie come help me clean the dog crap up out my room”, I proceed to say yes, and put away my cearl so that I could go help him. Once getting in the room, the sound of the door closing filled my ears, and the smell of dog crap on the floor burned my noise, because it was so loud. And as I began to bend down and start to clean, my brothers hand is wrapped tightly around my neck and mouth. But before I could scream or move, I was forced to the edge of his bed. Where my mouth was covered with his big sweaty hands, and his hot breath touching my face. And as my eyes began to be open so big, filled with tears that seemed as if they never stopped, his mouth began to open and with his voice his mouth spoke, “if you tell I will kill you, and tell mama that you wanted it.” And in that moment I began to feel my heart beating as if I ran a marathon, but my body was shaking even faster because I was confused on what I had done wrong, or what was going to happen next. So, I proceed to close my eyes and begin to count to ten in my head, but right before I got to four, I began to feel my brothers big sweaty hands rubbing up my leg and in that moment I tried to fight back. But even with every push, he still didn’t move. So, now with his body that stemmed as if it was eight times my size and ten times my height, was completely on top of me. All I could think was if he removes his hand from my mouth, I will scream but seemed like the more I hoped, the more it never happened. Then the teardrop of an eye I feel my brother’s hand underneath my long pink shirt and with all my froce, I began trying to kick, attach, or even bite his hand but still nothing was seeming to work. And that’s when I began to realize the more I moved, the tighter and heavier it seemed as if his hand and body has gotten. So, then in my head I tell myself, “just maybe if I don’t move or try to fight, then he will realize that he is scaring me, and decided to let me go. But still that never happened. And as I began to lay there, I decided to give up because I was only five and my strength was nowhere near as strong as his. I remember that after a couple seconds of laying still, I felt his long sweaty fingers pulling off my panties, as he began to touch my private area, my body became numb with every touch and my eyes continued to shed tears that soaked my face. And as bad as I wanted it to all be over, I couldn’t help but think that this was just the beginning. However, as the time went by more and more things started to happen. But the only difference was that I began to feel a pain that I thought was never possible. A pain that that seem to be the worst of them all, was when I felt a certain discomfort of pressure that filed my body, and brought me pain from the inside out. And now as I am covered in my own tears and my body began to shake even faster. My eyes popped open, because the pain that I was feeling became to unbearable to keep them closed, and all I can see is my brother moving in an up and down motion on top of me. His eyes staring at me and his mouth making sounds, that I have never heard, aside from when I heard them on tv. This pain and motion seemed to had been lasting for forever, and the end wasn’t nowhere close. The time had seemed to be going by so slow, because it felt like I was in his room for forever. And that’s when out of nowhere my brother begins to make one last noise, and in that moment the nightmare that I has been trying to escape from was finally over. And as it ended, I began to feel a sense of emptiness, but in that moment remembering that his hand was no longer on my mouth, so, as I grasp for air and his body was gone, I suddenly felt so much lighter. But then, his mouth began to speak, and he says to me, “ get out and don’t forget about what I said.” And as I remember thinking that I wanted to run, the pain was so strong, and the more it hurts the weaker I became. Then as I stumbled over trying to get out, my tears had done soaked my shirt, and as I looked down I see boood rubbing down my legs to my feet. I was so scared, and I knew I had to tell my other siblings, but only to find out, as my hand reached to open the rusty door knob on his door, that they were standing right there as if they were waitting for me. In my head, I was wondering, “ why didn’t they try to help me, but as I tried to open my mouth and speak, my second oldest sister said to me, “ it’s going to be okay.” But as my eyes looked at them, and there’s looked back at me, all I could see is the looks on their faces as if I was a complete stranger. Then in a blink of an eye, my soaked ears was crowded by the sound of rubbing water, and not remembering so much of how, my bloody legs and feet was covered in warm water and my body was wet all over. I had found myself staring at the title covered wall, realizing that I was in the bathroom, right next to who I thought was my brothers room. I stared at that was for ten painful long minutes, and even though they were looking at me, in my head I remembered thinking to myself, “when mama gets home, everything will be okay.” However, when night came the woman for who I thought was my processor had arrived home, but still nothing was to be done. All I kept replaying in my head was the sound of my mother calling me a “lair and telling me everything was going to be okay.” And as she continued to say, “kids have a wild imagination”, I caught myself thinking, but only to realize this was not some crazy story of mine, and I knew that what I had encountered and the pain I was feeling was real. Nevertheless, what my mother had done was not what I had expected, and then in an instance, my mother’s soft sweet voice croweded my ears, telling me to “lie down my child.” And in that moment all I could think, was what is about to happen to me now. And as my eyes followed her body, I remembered seeing her hand reach for the grease with the blue top, that’s now called “petroleum jelly”, and as she opened it, I began to feel her hands rub my private area, and then off to bed I went. As i got to my bed, I remembered thinking to myself that I was no longer a child that knew what it felt like to be safe, but I had just became a child that now knew what it felt like to be lost and unprotected. I remember laying their thinking that whole night away, asking myself why me? And what will tomorrow bring me? But after laying their silently crying myself to sleep, I somehow drifted into a deep sleep where still until this day, I remember dreaming of a dog name Maui. In my dream I was trying to grab him, but he was running to fast for me. And after a couple minutes everything in my dream had went black, and it was as If I heard my own voice telling me to run, but for some reason my legs wouldn’t move. And it felt as if I was dreaming with my eyes open because I felt just as scared as I did then, just as I did when I was awake. But finally morning had finally came and I just knew that today was going to be a better day. But I guess that’s the funny part about the mind, nothing in that day happened the way it did in my head. That had seemed to be moving so fast, and once again I was trapped in that room with nothing left to do but cry and try my very best to breathe. This nightmare had seemed to be one that never needed, and I myself was the main lost, broken, scared, and hurt character. However, life around me did seem to go on as normal, as if nothing ever happened. But the best day of my life was when I had turned seven years, and my abuser was fourteen. Why? Because he had done got sent off to the juvenile detention center, and in that moment I remembered feeling a sense of relief as if the heavy shoes I was wearing, was no longer mines to wear. So, I began to feel free, and thought to myself, you have to try and push past this tragedy, because what was taken from you will be things that you shall never get back. And as the years went by, my life became crazier but really got crazy when I began to reach my preteen years. My mother who wasn’t my protector then, had turned into the demon that began to abuse me physically, and it left me feeling as if she had done picked up where he (my brother) left off. I remember feeling a piece of myself falling off with every hit that my mother had given me. I was only a preteen, and as many of would say I was child, but I was being beaten as if I committed a dangerous crime like the ones you see in TV, or hear about on the news. The things that I went through in my young and adult life, was not correct and I don’t and will never wish it upon my worst enemy. In closing, I am a young twenty-two year old African American that has made it through a storm with little to no direction. But through it all my life tragedies have transformed me into a strong, passionate, faithful, and determined young lady. The words that describe me is vying what many would think or say. But to me those words are interchangeable, compresses, and transformed. So, as you all read my story, I hope you all can see my passion,and realize what I endured led me to write my book. And although my journey has just begun, I have enough faith to know that I will make it and I will share my story and stories with the world. It brings me great honor to share part of my story with you all, and I hope it brings you just as much honor as your began to read it.
By margaret foster5 years ago in Psyche
ANDY
September 29, 1972, at precisely 4 am, A beautiful blue eyed baby boy was born. The universe welcomed this baby with open arms, all the while gently whispering through the wind to the newborn child that he was destined for greatness. However, little did this baby know the struggle and abuse he would go through to attain the excellence the universe had planned for him.
By Andy Gaulin5 years ago in Psyche
Leaving a Monster
I crouched in the corner with fear as I held my trembling hands up in a failed attempt to protect myself. He swiftly swooped down and pulled me up by a handful of my long hair. His breath reeked of beer. His twisted mouth spat on my face. Pure evil occupied his dark eyes; they lost their color and narrowed with fury. With my weak knees barely holding me up, I inched away from our daughter’s room, hoping to not expose her tenderness to the violence. As if he knew what I was doing, he dragged me into her room, held the back of my head with a fistful of my hair, and violently thrust my face into the crib where our precious, porcelain-skinned daughter slept. I closed my eyes, only finding solace that she didn’t wake.
By Brooke Vaughn5 years ago in Psyche
Folie à Deux
My baby sister and I are close. The closest, really. The sister bond is a unique one anyhow. But when you fortify that bond with childhood trauma you survived together nothing can break it. In fact, I often tell people that my bond with Brittany is more like a mother/daughter bond because I was the one who kept us alive several times in life when we may have died otherwise.
By Nichole Martin5 years ago in Psyche
In the beginning....
Bullying is a very real thing. It is a very dangerous, cruel thing to do to someone; especially at a young age. I was destined to be a little different. I am constantly finding myself being referred to as an old soul. I fully believe this to be the truth. I am an old soul. I have been here before. I have been conditioned to a world of fears and dreams, and the most bewildering thing I have discovered so far is this:
By PhidJitt Schmidt5 years ago in Psyche
