#cptsd

94 posts
  • mariateresa 6w

    After a lifetime of trauma, today I had another major breakthrough along this healing journey. I've been physically returned to my body, grounded and released from blockages, stagnant energy that my body was holding in my bones. Trauma will stay stored in the body until the inner work allows it to be released. Today, while working with an intuitive therapist, my body finally let go. This is a much needed step forward that I've been waiting for for ten years. The peace I feel inside is incredible. Full circle moment of understanding why I put myself in certain situations in the past and feeling proud of myself for all the hard work it took to get here. Healing from our human condition stretches out over our entire lifetime. Happy to be arriving upon a deeper peace inside, so much love and abundance of joy! Here's to continuing to keep my head high while "Triumphing over Trauma".

    #healingjourney #soulhealing #energywork #soulwriter #innerwork #self-acceptance #self-love #traumahealing #intuitive #intuitivehealer #cptsd #triumphingovertrauma #healing #feelingishealing #writerslife #writingcommunity #writersnetwork
    #mirakee

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    Upon Arrival

    Opening my eyes as if for the first time
    Arriving here from a place far beyond into a brand new town
    A vast city of wonder with a beating heart that's true
    I'm here and finally detached from you
    Love was something that I chased
    Discovering that nothing but my own could ever fill the space
    Love within me grows like wildflowers
    Collected from meadows, blooming scented Divine essence and power
    Grounded in with gratefulness and grace
    No longer is love something that I desire to chase
    Opening the door, no longer in fear
    Attracting what's meant for me to be planted gathers near
    Balance of giving processed by allowing myself to receive
    Worthiness of spirit is the truth I finally believe

    ©mariateresa

  • squeaker 12w

    I tend to reflect on my mental state a lot..writing is my therapy when I cannot afford to go to actual therapy. #mentalhealth #CPTSD #PTSD #awareness #depression #anxiety

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    The War

    These battles have left me bruised and broken in a war he started.
    Left me with nothing but Trauma from the moment he departed.
    I have fought so long and so hard to find my way back from this.
    But sometimes, I find myself sinking further into the abyss.
    I thought I found a way to drop some weight... to help me swim.
    But the light of the surface only seems to dim.
    Lying to myself has become the only way to breathe,
    even though the lies do nothing but make my emotions seethe.
    They boil over sometimes, I've tried to stop it..
    spilling over until I drown where I sit.

    Nightmares all blur together at this point, no sense in remembering the details these days.
    The fabric of reality always splits open, leaving me clinging to the ends as they fray.
    They say to live in the moment, take it one step at a time.
    But living in a moment where you feel nothing but fear, is an unforgivable crime.

    Shame is a hell of a word, and I hate the way it tastes.
    I am not ashamed of the war I've waged within myself for all these years, it hasnt all been a waste.
    Ive seen my friends and family laugh until they cried
    Been there to pick them up when their loved ones have died.
    I have sung to the moon and stars when the nights seemed too silent.
    I have cherished the sun and clouds before the weather turned violent.
    I have shook the hand of the devil and wished him the best.
    I have cursed God for every soul he has taken to their final rest.
    The good times are always great until they come to an end.
    If this war has taught me anything, it is how to bend.

    Bend, but never break.
    That is what I whisper to myself with every breath I take.

    You don't have to understand anything I say,
    I am not asking you to remember every line.
    Just keep in mind the war that is raging within me
    every time I say, "I am doing just fine."

    ©Eryn Ricketts

  • in_fragments 14w

    Emotional flashbacks are a type of flashback in C-PTSD that happens when your body releases memories of trauma, but your mind- the visual aspect that would make the memory complete- remains disconnected. You may feel pressure in parts of your body but not know why, you may have emotions bubble up that feel ancient and lost and take over you entirely, with no memories attached. You can have only visual flashbacks or only emotional flashbacks, or both- depending on how deeply you repressed something in childhood. This means that, it is possible to have just a visual flashback with no emotion or real understanding of it; and it is also possible, for just your body to start feeling the abuse again, with no memories as to where it's coming from. The latter is what I suffer from nearly every day.
    The body remembers what the mind is not ready to see. Emotional flashbacks are terrifying and exhausting, and they're still only half the story... but I think I'm starting to remember more and more...
    #pod #poem #trauma #cptsd #abuse #dissociation #flashback #thoughts @miraquill @writersnetwork @writersbay

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    False Memories? Emotional Flashbacks.

    Faceless, but you're all over me.
    I believe you were here,
    are these false memories?
    My body remembers, my brain doesn't see,
    but the pressure in my thighs doesn't lie-
    you did this to me,
    and I will never know just who you are
    even though I remember your name-
    it was too long ago, and justice is a farce;
    like a coward you ran from your blame
    all those decades ago.


    How many of us were there?
    How many children did you move
    into that dark room, where
    the unspeakable was allowed to occur;
    and then you fled, nothing left,
    when some little one slipped up,
    revealed "our little secret"
    to someone bigger than you,
    someone who could put you behind bars
    but you always slithered through...


    My innocence was doomed
    the first moment I stepped in;
    they were supposed to take care of me-
    the son of those babysitting,
    you were too old to be around-
    but they knew, they let you move me
    and shatter my brain along the ground.


    Why do I remember
    my sleeping bag with the other kids-
    and why do I remember
    someone else's bed like an ocean,
    I was suddenly left inside of, alone?


    Are these false memories?


    You touched my scared skin
    with your oily, loathsome fingers,
    sauntered in at naptime and lingered;
    but of course I don't remember it well.

    Do you?


    Are these false memories?


    You still linger sometimes- when I sleep.
    You ruined sleep for me,
    my personal Freddy- I only hope
    that one night soon
    you'll come back to kill me in my dreams;
    at least I'll finally get to see
    you again, for everything you ever were
    and stop feeling your demons inside me
    Everywhere I ever go.


    False thoughts, false thoughts-
    if that's all you are,
    then how have you left such
    deep emotional scars?
    ©in_fragments

  • mariateresa 22w

    This is deeply personal my friends. I choose to focus on positivity and love in my writing because that's what heals the childhood years I spent in an extremely dysfunctional and traumatically abusive home. I've endured a lot. I channel all of that energy into radical acceptance and today, I know I'm more than just a survivor. My motto is "Triumphing over Trauma" for this reason. To be the hero for my inner child. To show how love indeed heals. Becoming the spiritual warrior I am to show others the way out. Freedom from childhood abuse. The truth continues to set me free. Love is all that remains.

    #wod #childhood #soulhealing #traumahealing #survior #cptsd #innerchild #beingmyownhero #writingcommunity #writersnetwork #writerslife #mirakee

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    Kissing the past goodbye

    One day it will all make sense
    Yells that threaten to deafen and screams in defense
    None of it was yours, they tried their best
    It was you who were made to feel responsible for the mess
    Sweet soul you are the glue that kept their broken bits together
    Now it's time to wrap yourself in a forgiveness sweater

    One day that warmth will guide you away
    Leaving behind all that disillusionment clouding your way
    Hugging the child of your youth, taking her hand you both will be free
    Toxic dysfunction masquerading as love, it's taken so long for you to finally see
    The role you played with upstanding grace, holding it all within your heart space
    No more will you live in fear, eating lies that plague your thoughts
    Goodness triumphs as your soul shines its pure originality
    Cleverly breaking away is the ultimate finality

    Fast forward forty-three years, now believing in miracles
    That one day is now, for you've survived it all
    Take advantage of the lessons and strength earned in the shadows
    You're a warrior after all, the only truth that matters
    ©mariateresa

  • scaredycat 23w

    Hands down

    Because I couldn't separate the higherarchy between at work and at home
    You put your hands on me

    Because I didn't turn my back and instead faced forward while you spread your love wherever you felt the need
    You put your hands on me

    Because I didn't shut my mouth when I heard about an indescretion half buried by time with your said you spent with your mom.
    You put your hands on me

    Because I knew better than to trust you but acted like I trusted you to everyone we knew
    You put your hands on me.

    Now I shutter at the thought of any man putting hands on me.

    Now I cringe at the idea of even a trustworthy man putting their hands on me.

    Now I isolate myself in fear of anyone getting within arms reach cause they may put their hands on me.

    Now I can't remember what a loving touch felt like because you put your hands on me.
    ©scaredycat

  • themystique 31w

    The Game of the Abyss

    I play this game everyday where I have to let myself feel my emotions and try to understand my triggers without falling into the abyss.
    ©themystique

  • in_fragments 47w

    "The angels above me keep chattering,
    but they won't let me come home.
    They come down to see me,
    and observe this ever-dizzying world,
    but they always refuse
    to take me back with them.
    I am euphoric when they're here,
    and empty when they go; this is always
    why they must leave-
    they know if they allow me to grow my wings
    I would never come back down to earth.
    Why would anyone choose to,
    when just existing is getting so exhausting?

    But they say they only exist because I do,
    they are my angels, so if I die
    they die too, and they desire to live-
    more than just observing and hovering,
    they tell me that they've always been here,
    floating, all around and in me;
    I've only just recently begun to notice them
    on my own, like a miracle.
    Nobody knows how it happened,
    what punctured the veil never supposed
    to be seen. Perhaps, I think now,
    that it was always going to happen eventually.

    Now that I know them, I am more exhausted than ever before.
    Why can't I just join the angels now?

    They tell me I'm not far enough
    out of the depths yet, wrapped up
    in too much darkness still
    to really grasp their light and the meaning
    of the messages they are trying to bring.
    The sacred angels are playing with me,
    but I am too bleary-eyed to see.
    But they're here, I can feel them all
    hovering.

    These days I'm so far away from reality,
    I always get lost on the way towards a halo
    and end up dancing in psychedelic static,
    following pixie dust trails into sparkling temples, finding villages on clouds,
    eating cosmic brownies in the sky.

    It is still only an illusion the angels
    are keeping me under.
    When will I be able to know what they know?"
    ©in_fragments

    ~~~~
    Jeez just let me fly away ok... I promise to come back... at some point lol.
    #pod #poem #life #death #angels #trauma #dissociation #cptsd #abuse #thoughts @mirakee @writersnetwork @writersbay

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    Angels Above Me

    The angels above me keep chattering...
    These days I'm so far away from reality,
    I always get lost on the way towards a halo...
    ©in_fragments

  • in_fragments 47w

    I can't let them notice me... but please, I want to go home.....
    #pod #poem #trauma #cptsd #abuse #thoughts @mirakee @writersnetwork @writersbay

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    "Don't Cry" (Sliver of Sanity)

    Hold it back, block it up,
    call someone forward
    to force it away if you must.
    They are never allowed to see you cry.

    Bottle up all the fear and danger
    you feel when you're around them,
    suck your tears back into the void-
    blind yourself with the sudden,
    intense and distracting colors manifesting
    in the deep, empty space behind your eyes-
    being seen and not heard
    like a good little girl.
    To cry and have nobody listen,
    to fly away and have nobody see-
    nobody needs to, not one is required
    to waste their precious time on me.

    I have learned to push them all away,
    to squeeze the tears back into place
    too well. I've created a black hole
    where my innocence once was,
    a pit the sadness falls into completely
    and it thrives there, unprocessed
    and ravaging my subconscious.


    Yet still, on the surface
    I feel an eerie nothing.


    The tears don't matter anymore,
    they begin to slowly disintegrate
    alongside my body and brain-
    and when I return,
    I will have kindly forgotten what tears are,
    much less how one goes on to evoke them.
    When once again the pain
    is compartmentalized successfully-
    this is the pivotal moment
    where a child learns how
    to detach from reality and retain functionality,
    to dissociate in order to live
    as normally as possible, to keep a sliver
    of sanity inside-
    a sliver of sanity that begins to unravel
    whenever I start to cry.
    ©in_fragments

  • in_fragments 47w

    "Time keeps moving on too fast.
    Everyone I love just keeps getting older.
    We are all dying. We are all so decrepit.


    I just want to be held like a child again.


    My mind keeps moving on too fast.
    Nothing is real, and minutes don't pass
    properly inside of me.
    I am stuck in so many different places.


    You stole my past and ruined my future.
    The present is hanging on
    by a razor-thin, weakening thread.


    I just want to be safe again, clean again,
    innocent again.
    My childhood is missing.
    Why am I not allowed back there?


    I don't remember what any of this feels like.
    It all seems unattainable,
    like some distant memories I've let rot
    and left to be forgotten.
    Why did I have to forget?


    Time marches on so unjustly, so unfairly.
    Time saw what happened to me,
    it saw them destroying me
    and did nothing but pass to haunt me.


    If time was never on my side,
    is there any reason why I'm still alive?"
    ©in_fragments

    ~~~~
    In an abusive relationship with time.
    #pod #poem #trauma #venting #cptsd #abuse #time #thoughts @mirakee @writersnetwork @writersbay

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    Time/No Time

    We are all so decrepit.


    I just want to be held like a child again.
    ©in_fragments

  • in_fragments 47w

    "I've been broken on the inside,
    somewhere deeply scarred since childhood.
    (Did I have a childhood?)

    I was shy and insecure and had very
    few friends. Why couldn't I be normal,
    like the other kids were so seamlessly?
    (Did I have a childhood like them?)

    I was already filthy
    in places my peers couldn't see
    but the monsters always sensed on me.

    Someone destroyed me a long time ago.
    (Why? Why? Why?! What did you do?!
    Did you ever even say you were sorry?)

    Now I'm rotten, and terrified of everyone.
    Being seen frightens me,
    who knows what parts of me they are twisting
    to fit into their perverse perceptions?
    How many people see me as prey
    while I smile at them on the streets?
    I am a minnow to sharks,
    I don't know how to be a person anymore.
    I am empty. Never enough.
    Why is it so difficult to talk to others?
    I can't relate to any of you...

    I don't feel comfortable anywhere.
    I can only see the world
    through a cracked, distorted lens.
    Even at home it doesn't feel right.
    (Do I have a home anymore? Did I... ever?)"
    ©in_fragments

    ~~~~
    I was always a troubled kid and I never realized how all of it has stemmed from trauma. I was bad at schoolwork, I threw temper tantrums alot, I couldn't follow through on any sports teams and never worked well with other kids. I've had three or four friends over the course of my entire life. I couldn't relate to anyone else and didn't want to. I was a child going through trauma. It's hard to get myself to fathom some days and to forgive the confused child for acting out and angering the incompetent adults. The pain she held was never her fault.
    #pod #poem #mentalhealth #trauma #cptsd #abuse #thoughts @mirakee @writersnetwork @writersbay

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    Odd Child Out

    (Did I have a childhood?)
    (Did I have a childhood like them?)
    ©in_fragments

  • healingyouryouniverse 48w

    An injured nervous system sends signals for help, that in our society we call mental health disorders.

    Mental health disorders aren't problems to be solved, they are the S.O.S of the wounds we need to care for.
    ©water_joy

  • in_fragments 48w

    "My body and soul are so dirty.
    I can never get clean enough when I wash.

    I will never be spotless
    the way I need to be,
    I have scrubbed and scrubbed you away
    for years, yet you still won't go.
    How can I rinse away everything you did to me
    when I don't remember it happening
    at all?

    Was it just a dream?
    Some dark fairytale I spun myself
    to fill the void between my bones
    that somehow has consistently been there
    my whole life?
    Why can't I let myself remember?

    I always try to sanitize the slime,
    but it comes from a place too deep inside,
    living within my own filth and grime-
    how could it be
    that I did all this to myself?
    This murk has been lurking in me
    for as long as I can remember;
    it belongs to me now, but
    it was never supposed to be mine to hold...


    Maybe in my next life I can be reborn chaste,
    my limbs will be pure and my mind guiltless,
    young and innocent and in love.

    I have been rotting alive here for so long.

    I am so sick. You make me so sick...
    and you're the scariest monster
    of them all, because I still can't
    remember your face. But you're in me,
    watching me sob and scrub
    and scrub some more, laughing
    as I weep, wishing I could peel
    the skin you disturbed clean off...

    You know full well you ruined me,
    there is no way you don't-
    I was barely a child back then,
    I was a defenseless little doe
    and you sacrificed me
    on bloody altars of your violent desires,
    laying me on your mattress
    like a slab of holy stone.
    I thought it was supposed to be safer in there.


    Why me?
    Why did you pick me out,
    pull me up from the bunch
    and usher me away quietly, like cattle-
    why did you move me to that room,
    that dark, lonely room that feels so unreal?

    I'm afraid I'll never know what it's like
    to feel safe and unsoiled,
    and unconditionally protected.
    I long for a home that never existed,
    a childhood I didn't get to have.


    No amount of soap and water
    can free my body from what you've done to it.
    What the hell have you done to it?"
    ©in_fragments

    ~~~~
    Trauma thoughts burn. I hate that these are mine. But I'm beginning to remember things. How the bed was too big, it swallowed me, and how I didn't understand why I needed to sleep away from the other kids. How naptime made the whole world go dark except for the hallway outside, even when I wasn't tired, and how I froze up at the shadows of feet hovering under the door...
    #pod #poem #dissociation #trauma #cptsd #abuse #art #healing @mirakee @writersnetwork @writersbay

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    Unclean Memories

    I always try to sanitize the slime,
    but it comes from a place too deep inside...
    What the hell have you done...
    ©in_fragments

  • miss_lyra 49w

    CPTSD Awareness

    Cold hearted people leave scars when they never put a hand on you.

    People who suppress your opinions and emotions are a part of the problem.

    Thinking that everything was normal and okay was a lie to yourself.

    Stopping the multi generational cycle of abuse is necessary to move on.

    Deciding when enough is enough is the first step.

    Complex PTSD. Years of emotional and psychological trauma that flew under the radar...
    ©miss_lyra

  • mariateresa 50w

    Unattainable peace

    Projection onto others is your emotional game
    Judgemental and cruelty casting others in your shame
    Looking to relieve the hurt and pain you feel
    Preying upon whomever is near
    Lacking patience with others you blame and scold
    Can't handle the truth long after it's told
    Never taking responsibility, housed in victimhood
    Peace doesn't exist within you, ego is fragile
    Allowing fear to be your ruler
    Manifesting negativity to attach to you sooner
    Ah the games that you play are so obvious
    Going through life as a being unconscious
    Awaken you won't to your soul's language
    Detached, in denial of the energy you spread
    Peace has not found you, nor can it until
    Caring for yourself becomes a required skill
    No one else can fill your cup
    Becoming the hero of your own story is a must
    Questioning beliefs and seeing your part
    Higher consciousness takes practice, from it you just dart
    Amnesia set on the highest setting
    Pray for you I will for your soul you are forgetting
    ©ladysag77

  • in_fragments 50w

    "Each one of us has our own role
    inside the circus of my psyche.
    From the trapeze artists
    and tightrope walkers, toeing the line for me,
    to the clowns, the animals,
    trainers and dancers,
    the capricious ringmaster
    and wide-eyed audience of curious children;
    they are all within me, performing,
    always going through the motions
    to keep this Big Top Body alive.
    They have never had the pleasure
    of a new audience member, save
    for the few little ones who love them.
    But they do now, and it is me,
    and I have no idea how I got myself here.

    I know them and believe they are there,
    even if no one else can see them,
    even if they recoil from me in fear.
    They've been holding me steady for decades
    and I never knew,
    sharing my pain, my freakshow in silence,
    growing up unable to be seen,
    truly thankless jobs indeed.
    Now everybody has been too stressed
    to go back on stage, some don't want to
    any more, some don't yet know I've arrived.
    Others have been trying to break out
    of the Big Top and leave without me,
    despite knowing it's not only theirs,
    and we've been brought together here
    for a reason.

    Inside me is a circus show gone awry,
    and sometimes it feels
    like all I can do is sit and watch
    as the music trills on, upbeat
    but distorted, eerily wrong somehow
    while the moving illusions and twisting,
    vibrant colors make me dizzy and nauseous
    in my seat.
    It's our circus now, none of us can leave;
    how are we supposed to rebuild
    and calm ourselves,
    to get to know each other again
    and familiarize ourselves with our roles
    amidst an environment still brimming
    with such rampant inner chaos?"
    ©in_fragments

    ~~~~
    The circus has been going under lately... but I know I can't let it, because I'll go down with it too if I do... we're all just over here trying to save ourselves, bringing it all down that much faster... no communication.
    #pod #poem #dissociation #trauma #cptsd #ptsd #mentalhealth #mentalillness #circus @mirakee @writersnetwork @writersbay

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    CIRCUS PSYCHE

    Inside me is a circus show gone awry,
    and sometimes it feels
    like all I can do is sit and watch
    as the music trills on, upbeat
    but distorted, eerily wrong somehow
    while the moving illusions and twisting,
    vibrant colors make me dizzy and nauseous
    in my seat.
    ©in_fragments

  • faerie_fox_poetry 50w

    CPTSD

    My eyes are always searching
    For those hidden paths,
    Escape routes
    Through the ghost towns
    That I am tearing down
    With slow hands

    ©FaerieFoxPoetry

  • in_fragments 51w

    So... dissociative disorder or nah?? ��
    I'm so very tired of not knowing.
    #pod #poem #dissociation #trauma #cptsd #ptsd #mentalhealth #mentalillness #selfcare @mirakee @writersnetwork @writersbay

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    Deeper than
    the Alter Ego


    This phenomenon in me
    goes deeper than the alter ego.
    This situation of separating self-states
    as a child to facilitate survival,
    this circumstantial fragmentation,
    the hidden mechanism of a young mind
    cracking to create new pillars
    and columns, a cavalcade of anchors;
    I was not an artist, devising a name,
    but a child, with a brain interrupted
    by inveterate mental trauma-
    forced to see the world differently
    from everyone else,
    but kept far enough away
    from all the troubling reasons why
    that I had no idea I was even abnormal
    in the first place.
    The amnesia and mental barriers,
    thickening again faster than ever;
    the faded memories, never knowing
    what I am mourning for;
    the parts of myself I've had
    to put on hold, thrust into static;
    the parts that went dormant amidst
    my recklessness- these are not
    characters, and it was not a choice,
    a conscious creation or performance
    for us- we are the same being,
    simply forced to become many
    out of one.


    An alter ego
    is the watchful curation of an image,
    made in mind with something to gain-
    fame, wealth, notoriety,
    maybe just a safe space
    for inventive and inspired self-expression.
    It is carefully crafted, mixing aspects
    of artist and character into
    a perfectly marketable cocktail
    of heightened features
    and show stopping charisma.

    More than alter egos,
    we exist as deeply altered states
    of the same personality, forged in fire subconsciously
    for protection and self-preservation
    as well as for play, creation,
    and imagination; because most facets
    of myself are so rooted
    in such intense shock and suffering,
    that my brain needed to learn
    how to tuck them away quietly
    into the sick and unartful chambers
    of my psyche that still hold them
    because I can't.

    I will never put together
    an artistic visionary, an alter ego of my own
    until I can meet and accept the needs
    of all the fossilized parts of me
    who were buried alive here first.
    ©in_fragments

  • in_fragments 53w

    "Every sunrise marks the beginning
    of another bad mental health day.
    So many excuses
    for all the ups and downs
    and twists and pivots
    and jolting discoveries
    and sorrowful reveries-
    After two and a half agonizing decades
    of stunted growth, I am just tired,
    sick, used up,
    empty and exhausted with it all.
    My bones are overtaxed, my head is sapped,
    legs lethargic, shoulders tense and heavy.
    When getting out of bed
    feels like moving mountains,
    I push myself to write instead.
    I lay, all day if I have to,
    birthing creations through the burnout,
    the awful ideations and self-doubt,
    my disjointed perceptions of the world;
    but now I just need rest. I need real rest-
    when I sleep I don't dream,
    the burnout never seems to ease
    and I always wake up feeling destroyed.
    I am tired of trying to thrive
    in spite of the chronic discomfort,
    my body is done pretending
    it can function like normal.
    All that's left of me now
    is strange, mediocre poetry, aching wrists
    and a depleted body, self-destructive spirit
    and disoriented mind.
    I have no clue where to begin
    to recoup from all this pain and lost time,
    there is far too much to rid myself of
    so casually, gracefully, conveniently.
    I might die here with the years,
    might never catch up to everybody else.
    I was born far behind, suffering
    has followed me from my first
    staggered breath
    through closed up little lungs;
    a blue faced infant, symptomatic
    straight from the womb, already sensitive
    to the choking cruelties of life-
    things like that, that happened so soon
    sealed my fate, like I was made
    to suffer and somehow survive
    but never live. Living was not an option
    for someone as sick as me,
    I can only endure
    and try to write it out.
    But I am so tired of enduring,
    the lust to succumb to disaster is strong...
    I don't know if there will ever
    be more to my life than this."
    ©in_fragments

    ~~~~
    There has got to be more to life than just... suffering... right?
    #pod #poem #trauma #cptsd #selfcare #life #therapy #thoughts @mirakee @writersnetwork @writersbay

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    The Chronic Burnout

    I am tired of trying to thrive
    in spite of the chronic discomfort,
    my body is done pretending
    it can function like normal.
    All that's left of me now
    is strange, mediocre poetry, aching wrists
    and a depleted body, self-destructive spirit
    and disoriented mind.
    ©in_fragments

  • mariateresa 61w

    My motto is "Triumphing over Trauma" and my life is an ever unfolding story of that. Today my blog is 2 years old. Valuable lessons and the connections I've made can be compared to gold. Fueling my passion and pushing me onwards. No looking back now as I press forwards into this new chapter.

    #mylife #mystory #testimony #livinglifeonmyterms #traumasurvivor #cptsd #cptsdrecovery #cptsdawareness #recovery #rebirth #transformation #spirituality #spiritualjourney #emotionalwarrior #emotionalmusings #shaman #shamanichealer #energyhealer #energypractice #energyworker #energypractitioner #vibes #writing #writersnetwork #writingcommunity

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    My story

    Writing is my greatest glory
    Passion filled and rich in story
    Lived expressiveness through and through
    Challenges I've survived are the glue
    Stitching and weaving each heartache as one
    Triumphing over trauma has given birth to the feeling that I've won
    No regrets, only lessons lived moment by moment
    Trials and errors fueled fodder for this poet
    Putting it all out there, it's my badge of honor
    Certainly never a dull time or a yawner
    Expressing myself creatively by using words
    Allowing myself to spread my wings, soaring like a bird
    Sparking hope and inspiration in others
    My testimony sets my mission for my sisters and brothers
    ©ladysag77

  • mariateresa 61w

    Having Complex PTSD and surviving life long abuse, trauma and heartache never broke me. We can and do heal. I'm living proof. Standing tall and living my motto, "Triumphing over Trauma" and you can too��

    #believeinyourself #healingjourney #cptsd #ptsd #mentalhealth #suicudesurvivor #survival #hope #faith #belief #trust #creativewriter #emotionalwarrior #emotionalmusings #shaman #shamanichealer #artofshamism #energypractitioner #vibration #energyhealer #standingtall

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    Hero

    Looked upon as a savior
    Held in high esteem and favor
    Searched for all over this vast land
    Who could hold this title so grand
    Rubbing my eyes and awakening to see
    The hero of my story is me
    Feeling intuitively just where I'm supposed to be
    Living heart centered while my soul becomes free
    The person I've been seeking all my life
    Endured such evil and survived painful strife
    Overcoming obstacles using all of my insight
    Never once quitting or giving up slightly
    Powering through until I arose quite safely
    Finally accepting my greatest reward
    Hope, faith and trust has been fully restored
    The hero I've dreamed of all along
    Is staring back at me in the mirror singing my theme song
    I believed so I tried, rescued myself and now I'm alive
    ©ladysag77