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dantesjourney · 4 months ago
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Feeling a lot of "you shouldn't feel that way" sort of feelings lately. A lot of "you can't give up" sort of feelings. A lot of things that usually, when shared outloud, people try to shut down. Sure they mean well, they don't want to see you hurting or struggling or anything like that. Intense, heavy, difficult emotions are hard for a lot of people to witness though. People don't want to sit in their own discomfort, so they try to change how you feel.
If you ask me, all that really does is lead people to stop saying things outloud, to stop sharing when they're feeling some kind of way. Because what that behavior tells them is "you're not safe to share that with me". So they don't share it.
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thewindowsystem · 2 years ago
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Do any other trauma survivors experience this???
TW: mentions of z0∅ph*lia, p3d0ph1ila and children being forcefully exposed to animal ab*se content
So for context as a younger kid (mostly when I was around the ages of 11-13) I was being groomed and abused by multiple p3d0file zoøs and was forced to watch videos of animals being abused in that kind of way along with other things I don't feel comfortable going into, most of them would do these disgusting things to dogs. As much as I love dogs with all my heart every time I look at one (especially a male dog) I get flashbacks to those videos that makes me want to genuinely violently throw up, I feel so disgusting and I'm terrified that because I saw those kind of things that I'm just as bad as the people who exposed me to them. My worst fear is becoming like the disgusting people who victimised me and so many poor animals that I even struggle to look at my service dog in training some days because I feel so violently disgusted I just can't handle it. I've never told anyone this ever and I just need to find someone who fucking understands or can atleast empathise with me because I'm terrified if I ever speak up about what happened to me as a child then people will see me as being just as disgusting as my abusers and I don't even have a word I can put to label or even understand my experience
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truecampbell · 1 year ago
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For my primal brain on up to my cerebral brain, I need these reminders.
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akidwhocriedwolf · 2 years ago
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When what you are running from lives inside you
Sit still, breathe,
It will leave.
It is not you,
You are SO much bigger than this.
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thepoetsposts · 2 years ago
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My first memory.
TW: Abuse, Emeto
I was born in 2004 to parents that had already separated; at least emotionally. I hear that they tried to make it work, on and off again into my toddler-hood but from what I’ve gathered, (they’ve both remarried and had kids with their spouses) things never ended up working out. 
I’ll come back to their relationship issues, which took place before my consciousness at a later date. (Maybe sooner, if anyone cares to listen to an internet stranger’s baggage.)
My very first memory was of my mother violating my boundaries. 
I was three, and sick with what must’ve been one of my very first colds. I remember the feverish warmth that felt foreign to me, the lurching nausea that had yet to turn into true vomiting, and the natural and indescribable want for my Mama. 
When I had toddled out from the bedroom, I saw her sitting on our well worn couch, eating chinese takeout. From her spot on the couch she beckoned me closer, scooping me up into her soft, sweet smelling arms once I’d come close enough to reach, and for a moment I felt safe. 
“Say ‘ah-’” She directed, gently tapping my throat with her fingers…eventually pushing down on my chin to ease my mouth open, piling shrimp into my mouth for the first time ever. 
That odd fishy ocean taste that seems to cling to all seafood hit me first, and my nose wrinkled. It tasted bad. I tried to chew, and my teeth met gristle- my already lurching stomach was taking a turn for the worst. 
“Mama, I don’t like it…” I whined, looking around with the intention of spitting out the offending shrimp, squealing loudly as I felt her hands clamp around my head. 
“Yes you do, Poet. You love shrimp.” She urged, growing immediately angry when she saw my protests. She adjusted her hand, forcing my jaw and lips to seal; demanding loudly along the way that I ‘Swallow!’ and ‘Be grateful!!’ while I squirmed, and dry heaved in her arms. Her hold had become a bearhug, crushing me as I tried to swallow pieces that were much too large- eventually breaking down whatever floodgates that had been holding back the stream of vomit. 
It was pretty bad.
A trail all the way from Mom’s lap to the tiny hallway where I’d collapsed, cowering from her angry stomping as it thumped towards me. 
“You’re not going to waste my food, you ungrateful little shit.” She snarled, words only half registering as I coughed up vomit, and sobbed over the sensation of my burning nostrils. “Stay down there and eat it. We don’t waste what mommy gives.”
And that was that. 
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yourhealingjournal · 3 years ago
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if all you did was survive today, pat yourself on the back. it may be small or inconsequential to you, but surviving is a success too.
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burgerkingussy · 2 years ago
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i want to heal but i’m also afraid of getting better because i have no idea who i will become
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thewindowsystem · 2 years ago
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is it just me orrrr...??
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does anyone else ever get the urge to go screaming and crying back to their abuser telling them how sorry you are for leaving them and beg for their forgiveness??
~ TW: p3d0ph1ila, CSEM, CSA, grooming, rape, threats
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Cuz like this fucking 40+ year old man literally owns CSEM of me from when he groomed me and tried to find where I lived so he could rape me but I still miss the praise and attention he gave me sometimes- like what?? I feel so dirty but it sometimes it feels like the only thing I am made to do is to be sexually exploited and that I don't deserve anything more than that.
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Like I feel like an abuser for leaving him
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truecampbell · 7 months ago
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As we enter the holiday season, keep these self-care tips in mind.
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akidwhocriedwolf · 2 years ago
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When Words Won't Suffice
I was 25 when I began to believe that my life is worth protecting.
That was thanks to a Master in martial arts showing me, week after week after month after year, that I was worth all the thought, time and energy he put into training me (pro-bono), to defend myself.
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So long as our justice systems fail to hold perpetrators accountable, and our communities refuse to hear these 'unspeakable' crimes;
Where else are we to find safety beyond our own bodies?
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extraspicytigerroll · 3 years ago
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rootsandflame · 2 years ago
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I wish to harden.
I am head to toe,
in lines and fractures,
filled with flesh that never fit back together
rushed and unresolved,
I am too roughed up to be gentle.
I have too many callouses,
to be this incapable of acting cold.
I have been violated in too many ways,
to be righteous,
to be honorable.
I am not proud, or pompous this way,
I so desperately wish to be the bad guy.
it would be so much easier.
I do not know who I would be,
if the violence I went through,
did not make me gentle,
but I want to.
Maybe, if I was kind to myself, I wouldn’t struggle to be firm towards others. Maybe I don’t need to be the bad guy after all. Maybe I just need to learn to let myself take up space.
In my fear of becoming him, I treat myself like I am. I am not.
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2outta3aintbad · 2 years ago
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Accepting that you need help in life is an achievement on its own, especially if you faced consequences and repercussions every time you took up space as a kid. jsyk
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thewindowsystem · 2 years ago
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TW: implied child abuse & mentions of suicidal thoughts
i’ve been able to accept the fact I was traumatised from ages 8 and above but anything lower than that I just can’t accept, it’s not like I can tell my psychologist about it since if I did my mother would be reported and I don’t want to deal with my entire family being ripped apart, I just want to be normal. if i can’t even talk about it to anyone without ruining my life than what’s even the point of healing that part of myself? i’ll just burry it as much as I can while preying to forget, it’s not like I remember much of it anyways. I tried to do research on if i’m experiencing false memory syndrome or something but I ended up going into stress induced psychosis because I couldn’t find any fucking answers, I’m probably just making it up but I wish i knew if it was true or not. even though it doesn’t matter
i’ll listen when they tell me nothing ever happened, I don’t need to know. they don’t need to know.
most of the time I feel like everything would be so much better if I just killed myself.
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akidwhocriedwolf · 1 year ago
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Found this mind map of some pretty ambitious goals I made in 2021. Proud to say I've made significant progress on all fronts 🥳
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I wouldn't say I've completely overcome the fear of death, but we've definitely made some deadway!
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