cptsd

Do the broken parts always stay broken?

Does it exist? Is there hope, or potential, or even the slightest, most remote possibility that this part of me can ever be healed? Shit, healed is a stretch. I’d be elated with functional. This part of life shouldn’t hurt. The part where someone who is safe and loving…loves you. You shouldn’t be afraid. You …

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When words don’t define you…even though they might.

I hate committing to words. I always have. I don’t have depression, I’m just fucked up. Or, I don’t have trauma, everyone goes through this shit. “I wasn’t sexually assaulted. And I definitely wasn’t raped. Recently, or for years on end in past “relationships”. I’m not suicidal, I just want to die sometimes. (I don’t …

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A gentle reminder that my life isn’t “normal”

My son had his 3 year visit with his pediatrician this morning. The appointments that, for typical kids, might last 15 or 20 minutes, takes us an hour to complete. I hate these yearly visits. It’s a brutal reminder of just how….abnormal my life is. When I always seem to convince myself to forget. I …

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When the nights force you to feel the pain you desperately try to avoid…

This is currently the story of my life. Everything can be going…as fine as it can be, I guess, but then the same thing happens nearly every night during the rough phases. My husband wants to go to sleep. I usually agree, because I’m exhausted. But then I start procrastinating, avoiding it at all costs. …

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