ptsd
Post Traumatic Stress Disorder; The storm after the storm.
The Veil Of Mental Health
As much as I wanted to explain personal experiences in the segment, it is also my intent to hopefully help someone that is unsure of their own well being. I have 40 plus years of hands on life experience that I am willing to share and open up about it. The years have gone by in a stale desensitized state for about 30 years. My descentisized state was of the mind with a constant barrage of medications. Hospitalization was the start of this haphazard medley of misunderstandings with mixed communications and perceptions of reality from what was expected from a youth in the 1980s. The type of youth that was raised by Christian parents, that never talked of Christianity or even life for that matter. My sibling is younger by 5 years so any actions by an older brother was watched, scrutinized and put in the memory for future recall, at least that is what I believe now. Marijuana was big, so was hash back in the 1980s in the city I lived. Until I found LSD. Yup, chemical shit, not to too mention mushrooms also. Shit went sideways for a long fucking time. Even to this day it can be hard to fathom why I'm still here after the countless adventures, and close calls even with the cops at the the time. Hindsight now is actually a reality check. The best way to provide context for all the above sentences would be, I did this and caused my delusional path. The delusional path is also a good path from where I am today. What Iran is that mental health in the ,80s was bad, not as bad as even earlier as depicted in tv shows, but actually similar in the sense that you are always going to be looked upon as a person mental health afflictions. I accept it now because I can. I would like to clarify that even though this was started by my own hand, the help I received was not, and it was much more diabolical, dark and unforgiving. Adults involved in my best interest were not as one may have expected. Medications only, no talk therapy, do as I say and shut down my own personal voice and wishes for myself. I do remember talking with someone or even myself when shit went downhill. I was making delusional deals with myself. These deals are now traumas I'm dealing with almost daily. I honestly don't feel as bad as I had years back and maybe, maybe it's because I'm writing. My journals are a bloody mess of my own psychobabble and butchered poetry and fragmented documentations of my journey. This platform is where I experimented, with poetry and short stories. Not all was here, most is still iny logs. I will continue to write in psyche in hopes that someone may benefit from this. I by no means am encouraging or discouraging, just showing what comes to pen and paper. The help of today is better I feel, but also needs to improved upon greatly. I say this because age is something of a state of mind, not a course of treatment, and everyone's neurological structure is different because of their insurance to trauma, fight or flight and even rest and digest. Please accept my apologies for broken sentence structures, punctuation and train of thought as I write this. Be well. Talk to you soon.
By Vinn Black6 months ago in Psyche
I Was the Strong One Until It Broke Me
For as long as I can remember, people have seen me as “the strong one.” The dependable friend. The sibling who always listens. The co-worker who steps up when things fall apart. I carried that title like a badge of honor, proud that others trusted me, proud that I could be the one who held everyone together.
By Nadeem Shah 6 months ago in Psyche
The Girl Who Slept On A Newspaper
Anxious attachment is a thing we hear a lot about these days. Attachment theory is a buzzword bingo selection. Like narcissism and gaslighting. But the story of how I learned to chase avoidant men like a defective compass needle that only pointed toward storm systems is one in a million. And yet, the dynamic may be the most common model of all relationship issues today.
By Suburban_Disturbance7 months ago in Psyche
Good Luck Understanding This. Content Warning.
There’s a difference between surviving and actually living. Surviving is quiet, mostly invisible work. It’s holding yourself together just enough so the world doesn’t notice you’re cracking. But, of course, it comes with a cost. It settles quietly in the corners of your life no one sees - the pieces of yourself you give up just to remain present, and the relief that never quite comes. That’s a truth I’ve carried with me for years.
By Suzanne B.7 months ago in Psyche
7 Signs You Were the Family Scapegoat (& How to Reclaim Your Story)
The Unseen Wound: 7 Signs You Were the Family Scapegoat In many dysfunctional families, there are unspoken roles assigned to each child. But while some roles come with praise, one is created to carry all the family’s burdens: the family scapegoat. This is the child who is cast as the “problem,” the “troublemaker,” or the source of all conflict.
By Sunshine Firecracker™7 months ago in Psyche
I See Dead People
The memory of my first out-of-body dream is vague, as opposed to the lucidity of the myriad I have encountered since. I was seventeen and had been working twelve-hour night shifts, 7pm to 7am, and in the mornings, when I was finally home, I would collapse into bed and pass out from fatigue.
By Chantal Christie Weiss7 months ago in Psyche
Original nightmares: The birth of dread
The first time I’ve ever felt real fear, I was on the ground looking up at military helicopters flying above. The sounds it made were unlike anything I’ve heard before. The vibrations felt chilling, I could feel it all over my body. At the time it was like the whole world was against me. It felt lonely, cold and dark. You couldn’t have told me that I wasn’t stuck in a cemented room with barely any light. The only light was from the small hole drilled above me. I felt trapped, with nowhere to go.
By Tendresse NK7 months ago in Psyche
