ptsd
Post Traumatic Stress Disorder; The storm after the storm.
What My Flashbacks Feel Like...
Like most people, whilst cleaning I get lost in thought. Perhaps unlike most other people, however, one thought is always attached to another. My mind is comparable to a tangled ball of yarn. It's impossible for me to pull one thread loose without tugging out another one along with it.
By Christina Woodcock8 years ago in Psyche
I Failed My Own Assassination Attempt
The day I tried to kill myself was the last of three days living in complete hell unlike any I’d ever known. I’d spent three days in a dissociated state, floating through my day with zombie eyes and a catatonic stride. I was barely able to function. I’d walk into the bathroom and wonder why I was there. I’d stare at the eggs cooking in my frying pan and wonder what I was supposed to do with them. I’d look at the sender of a text message and wonder, Who the hell is Momma Dukes?
By Regina Longwell8 years ago in Psyche
The Hole
I was there against my will, and I knew it was the place that I needed to be. See, I asked for help and protection from myself. I didn't trust myself anymore because I had a plan, a workable plan, and I intended to put that plan into motion three days ago. My plan consisted of a wooded area, a hose, a car exhaust and a sunny final day of my life.
By Rachael Merrick8 years ago in Psyche
Riptide
Escapism is a beautiful place for a while, it feels almost painless. It feels okay because you can breathe without that pounding in your chest, or that hole in your stomach that looks like the milky way but feels more like a tornado. It speaks so softly I can’t hear the words, but I feel the doubt of everything. I wake up in the morning and I feel it, until I can find a way to ignore it. No matter how I try it’s always there, like that sound of chalk on a chalkboard; only I am the chalkboard. I try to think of or create beautiful places in hopes that someone might understand, perhaps someone will find peace knowing that someone feels the same way. But my escapism is a dream with a beautiful beginning that ends in a nightmare. People wonder how that feels, that is people who have never been there. The only way that I can describe it, is like this
By Jordan Sophia Thomas8 years ago in Psyche
