#not reliving the trauma that made ptsd spiral into depression

[piganatur]

love it when seemingly there’s no consistency in the cinematography of certain episodes of a specific piece of media while the only thing said media keeps consistent is showing the perspective of its characters in the most faithful and authentic way it can right until the end

[frecklystars]

I’m in the hospital but I’m gonna be ok + I’ll be going home in a couple of hours. I’m sorry if I worried anyone. I have had the worst year and a half of my life and it is very obvious I am not handling it well

I put a lot of pressure on myself to try to enjoy today specifically because I think I unconsciously told myself that if I couldn’t enjoy today, I could not possibly enjoy any day; if I cannot feel good with these f/os who mean so much to me, then that must mean I can’t feel good with any f/os, that it is proof I am incapable of healing unless if I am able to feel good self shipping and celebrating an f/o anniversary today for the first time in two years.

But that wasn’t what made me spiral so badly— what drove me to make such an impulsive drastic decision that led me into being injured + at the hospital was just, my ptsd and the situation I’ve been stuck in has been so. fucking. vile. It has been extremely difficult for me to feel safe IRL, as well as with self shipping, which is awful because self shipping has always been my strongest coping mechanism for a little over twenty years. Not having self shipping feel the same for the last year and a half has been so hard, and I still haven’t found any other coping mechanism as effective (affective??) I find it difficult to feel joy anymore bc my ptsd/anxiety has been flaring up so much it has made my depression astronomically worse.

which is what today was supposed to be for, I am supposed to be celebrating the fact that I found two f/os who made me feel safe again for the first time one year ago and breathed some life back into me to help me self ship again. But i never feel 100% safe. I never really feel fully loved or like I am able to relax with any of my f/os because my trauma feels like it’s done too much damage. I grieve the special interest I lost every day, i grieve the 200+ tf f/os that I was conditioned to believe would harm me. Besides tf, I have still lost so much due to trauma. Songs, colors, certain clothes, certain phrases, certain animals, characters, there’s so many triggers. I don’t go a day without getting triggered by something and then getting angry with myself for being triggered, beating myself up for being traumatized. Then I feel utterly heartbroken that this happened to me. Then I get angry again because this all should never have happened to me. It’s like, the moment I’m triggered I start snowballing, and I cannot find the off switch. I don’t know how people are able to turn off their emotions. I can’t function.

I don’t go a day without a flashback or a nightmare reliving everything that happened to me, that is still happening to me. I am always crying over the things I’ve lost and I really don’t think I am able to go back to the person I used to be. I already was so unhappy before my trauma, which is why I was so reliant on self shipping my whole life, but now I’m like… just some scared, broken, jittery thing. I feel like just a shell of a person way too often and it’s so hard to not feel hopeless

I had today all planned out these last 2 months, I had a special breakfast made, I was planning a really good dinner, I was going to make a beach cake and heart cookies, I ordered flowers, etc. a ton of shit planned. I was going to go to the beach, go to the movies, customize my dolls. My favorite part of f/o anniversaries is looking back on my love notes and reblogging them. I had sooo much planned for Barbie and Ken for my blog. They’re so important bc they’re the only good thing I’ve been able to cling onto this whole year, yet I am doing so fucking badly and have barely felt anything for them for a few months now bc I’m so overwhelmed with reliving my trauma. I didn’t get to queue anything special for today. I should really be happy today but I’m not, and it’s really making me believe “ok well if I can’t feel any joy from these f/os then I can’t feel any joy with anyone ever again bc my ptsd is just too fucking bad.”

I haven’t slept *at all* in the last couple of days which obviously makes my emotional distress way worse. i could not for the life of me make today work. I wasted a lot of time and energy and money trying to feel something for my f/os when I am in the worst headspace. I don’t think it’s worth even postponing the anniversary celebration bc I just feel… absolutely nothing except dread and grief 24/7.

I don’t know what else to say. Physically I am injured and emotionally I am Not Okay, but I’m alive I guess. I didn’t want to go offline and say nothing whatsoever because then people would probably worry after seeing that last post. I am sorry if I worried anyone, I am obviously just. going thru it right now and idk when it’s gonna get better. I’m gonna try to get back into the habit of self shipping and watching movies with friends again, y’know like the saying fake it til you make it, maybe it’ll trick my brain into feeling better. I won’t go offline entirely but I am probably not gonna open any messages for a while, I’m sorry I know I haven’t opened any dms in over 4 months, it’s just been so hard and my energy levels are dead. But I make sure they’re unread/unopened so the notification is still there to remind me and I’ll be able to get back to ppl when I gather the strength. Um I don’t know what else to say. I love you.

[writersblog20]

Trauma

Chris Evans x reader

not my gif! Creds to maker! 

Summary: Chris yelled at you when you were reliving your trauma’s, not that he knew that but once he did, he tried to do everything to get you to the present again and made sure you feel loved, cared for and most importantly let you know that you are safe.

Warnings: Reliving trauma but there is no graphics from any trauma. Hints of abuse, depression and anxiety, alcohol, Chris yelling at you when you’re reliving your trauma and a lot of fluff afterwards.

Words:  2.1K

A/N: So my anxiety is like serious sky high right now and I wanted to write to keep my mind off of it but I can’t really seem to comprehend what I’m writing so I hope it’s still okay? I’m not sure what I’m saying right now. also, this fic might be a little chaotic so sorry for that.

Please if you like the story, reblog. It really does help your homegirl out! I love the likes but unfortanetly they don't do much so pretty please REBLOG 💞

Trauma

Chris was away from filming for a while now and you missed him like hell. You were a couple for over a year now and had been dating for half a year before that. Lately everything had been very rough and you told Chris about it but you stopped talking about it with him for over two months now and everything had been spiraling down since then.

Depression, anxiety, panic attacks, trauma’s, you name it and it was there. It started to get worse by the moment and you had reached out for help but it would take a long time to get therapy because so many people needed help. You tried to keep going though you really did.

You were anti-social for over two months and when your friends asked if you wanted to go to a party, you decided to go. You didn’t really want to but maybe it would be a nice distraction. But that seemed like a great mistake.

You drowned your sorrows away with alcohol. It wasn’t something that you had done often but you were triggered fast and at that moment alcohol was available and you took it in the hopes that you could still have fun if you had some alcohol in your system.

Your friends decided to go to the club and you got dragged along, already pretty drunk. You didn’t told them that you were drowning your sorrows, otherwise they would’ve stopped you. You told them you were fine so off you went to the club.

What you didn’t know was that your mom had texted Chris about your whole situation and how you really felt and why you didn’t tell him so he decided to go home tonight but didn’t find you in the house as he expected you to be.

He texted your friends to ask if they knew where you were and they told him. His senses on high alert right now. He had a very bad feeling about this and decided to pick you up from the club and asked your friends to keep you there until he was there.

You really took a lot of alcohol and you were smashed but still felt like shit, probably even more than without the alcohol. You zoned out more and felt like you were distancing from your body. You weren’t even trying to have a good time anymore and decided to just go home now.

Your friends were really not letting you go and it made you a little panicky. One of your friends just took you outside for some fresh air when Chris arrived.

He walked up to you, not amused and clearly mad when he saw the state you were in. He was extremely worried about you. You saw double and even though you were relieved to see Chris, the way he walked up to, clearly mad, made you extremely scared and triggered.

You were too scared to say anything even though Chris would never hurt you, you just got brought back to the past. “Hey sweetheart, I missed you. Let’s get home okay?” he said softly but you knew he was irritated and mad. You just nodded softly, submissive so you weren’t in trouble.

This really was your ptsd talking and you were reliving it as your chest tightened. You got in the car and you were hyper focused on the small things Chris did, feeling scared that he would lash out but of course Chris never would but like I said, ptsd is no joke and you were reliving abuse.

The car ride was silent and the tension was almost unbearable. You wanted to run away from him right now. Chris knew something was wrong with you at this moment but didn’t know what.

Once home your anxiety was sky high, scared what would happen behind closed doors. It was like all the alcohol you had consumed left your body as your senses were on high alert. Chris closed the door and the loud sound made you jump. You wanted to create distance from Chris as panic flooded through your entire body.

“Y/N, What were you thinking?” Chris raised his voice and your heartrate started to pick up. You were too scared to look at him but when you did you saw he looked angry and you felt the tears prick in your eyes. “I’m sorry.” You murmured, scared to speak up.

“You really could’ve hurt yourself. Your mom had told me everything, why didn’t you say something? You scared me to death Y/N!” his voice grew and you felt yourself grow smaller and intimidating. The tears now spilling on your cheeks as you crept into a  corner.

Chris frowned, he had never seen you like this. Chris took a step closer but not mad anymore as worry took over. “Y/N?” he asked soft but once he took a step closer to you, you backed off and that was when it clicked in his head. Your ptsd, you were reliving it, you were triggered and he yelled at you in that moment, pushing you further in your head. He could slap himself at this point.

“Baby?” he said very softly and caring, knowing he had to bring you back into the here and now. “baby, I’m not going to hurt you. I’m sorry I yelled, you didn’t deserve that. I am so sorry baby. Can I come closer to you?” he asked you softly.

You still backed away a little but not as much as before. “I was just really worried about you but I shouldn’t have yelled at you baby girl. I love you so much and I would never hurt you. I promise you that. It’s me Chris, your Chris, baby.” you looked up very carefully and when you saw his eyes, he looked very soft at you.

The tears still falling. You start to feel safe as he carefully reached out his hand for you to grab which you carefully did, your hand shaking. Once your hand was in his he smiled at you. “You’re doing so good baby, I’m so proud of you. Thank you for trusting me.” he told you softly with a soft smile. He knew he had to be extremely gentle with you in order to bring you back and let you know you were safe.

“Let’s go to the couch, that’s more comfortable.” He told you but he noticed that you were hesitant. “Baby, you’re safe with me. I’m sorry I yelled but I will never hurt you. I promise that you are safe with me. I’ll protect you.” he told you and you got a little out of the shadows. Your make-up ruined as it was plastered on your cheeks now.

Chris smiled softly as you walked carefully with him while he never let go off your hand. He sat down on the couch and carefully pulled you in his lap. Your muscles were extremely tense and you weren’t just yet giving in. He wanted to place a string of hair behind your ear but you ducked away scared. Not of him but you were so pulled back into the past that everyone was a danger in your eyes, not seeing clearly. His heart broke for you. “Baby, it’s me Chris. You’re safe now. You’re safe. Nothing’s gonna hurt you anymore.” He softly tried to pull you back into the present.

“Baby, can you look at me?” you did what he asked and carefully made eye contact. “There you go, I won’t hurt you, you’re safe sweetheart. I’m here.” He was so gentle and the softness in his eyes made your heart ached. You carefully leaned against him. “Can I put my arms around you and hug you?” he asked, knowing now that he had to ask you before doing something. You nodded and he gently placed his arms around you.

“You’re okay baby, you’re safe now.” he kept on repeating until you were fully back. You looked at him and held him tightly as if you wanted to crawl in him. he held you tighter as well now. “Are you back sweetheart?” he asked you. You nodded and started to sob. “I’m so sorry Chris, I’m so sorry.”

Chris shook his head and shushed you. “It’s okay baby, don’t worry about it. I was just really worried but I shouldn’t have yelled at you, I’m sorry.” You hid your face in the crook of his neck as he softly rocked you and let you cry it out.  

“Your mom had told me everything and why you didn’t say anything but please do say something if you’re not doing okay. You’re my baby, my world and I want you to tell me. I just love you so much.” You nodded again in his neck. Chris softly stroked your head.

“You’re on the list for therapy right?” he asked you carefully and nodded. “Okay, I’ll be there and I’ll take you with me when I have to film if you want to. It’s good to get out of the house and I want you with me.” you held tightly onto his sweater. “I would like that Chris, thank you.” he smiled softly “You don’t have to thank me, I love you.” you sniffled. “I love you too Chris.”

He kissed the top of your head and softly rubbed your back for comfort. “I’m here now, you’re not alone anymore pumpkin.” He made you look at him by carefully cupping your cheeks and looked softly into your eyes as he nuzzled your nose with his and placed a soft kiss on your lips and after, your forehead.

“Want to go upstairs and cuddle?” he asked you carefully. You nodded giving him a tired smile. You both walked upstairs and into the bathroom. “Let me help you sweetheart.” He told you as he got the wipes to remove your make-up. He did it with so much gentleness that it made your heart flutter. Once he was done he kissed your nose and placed some skin care products on your face against the irritation on your skin from all the crying.

You both brushed your teeth and got ready for bed. Chris helped you into his shirt and you crawled into bed, feeling utterly exhausted from all the feelings. Chris got in beside you. Normally he slept naked but because you relived some stuff he put on his boxers.

You carefully scooped towards him. “I’m sorry that you had to come home to me in that state.” You told him feeling guilty. “Sweetheart, it’s not your fault. You can’t help that. I’m just happy to be home and with you.” he told you, looking deeply into your eyes, trying to remove some of that guilt.

You gave him a kiss, which was very loving and gentle. He placed his arm around you and scooped you closer to him and tucked the blankets a little tighter around you so you would feel safe. “I missed you.” you told him while tracing the lines of his tattoos. “I’ve missed you too, so much.” He let his lips linger against your forehead and placed his arms around you, holding you close to him.

“Try to get some sleep baby girl. Tomorrow we’ll take it easy, maybe watch some movies, whatever you want. I’ll be here sweetheart and I’m all yours.” He told you softly. You kissed his chest too tired to lift your head up to give him a proper kiss. He smiled softly at you as he saw you drift off quickly.

Chris stayed awake a bit longer, watching over you. He was extremely worried about you but now that he was home, he would try everything he could to make you a little better. His trip away made him realize that he wanted you to be by his side forever. But for now, step by step and showing you that you were safe, loved and cared for. That was the most important thing right now.

taglist: @rogersdrysdalebarber  @patzammit

[hadarlaskey]

Wild at Heart remains an empowering depiction of female trauma

“Toto, I’ve a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore.” Dorothy says this line excitedly – it’s thrilling to leave the drab sepia world of 1930s America for the glorious Technicolor of Oz. It’s soon turned upside down, a puff of red smoke and the Wicked Witch of the West appears, doing everything she can to stop Dorothy returning home. For all its wonder, Oz isn’t home. Its uncanniness frightens her, and through sheer will power she escapes. “There’s no place like home… There’s no place like home… There’s no place like home…”

When you’re undergoing Cognitive Behavioural Therapy (CBT) for Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD), one technique is to close your eyes and transport yourself to a safe space. For me, it’s my grandparents’ house. My therapist says the magic words I chose, and I’m sitting in my grandad’s armchair in their cosy living room, the scent of lavender wafting through. We do this when my treatment triggers something and I start to disassociate as my mind convinces me I’m reliving the past. A click of the ruby slippers, “There’s no place like home…” and I’m safe again.

I hadn’t made this connection between The Wizard of Oz and my PTSD until I saw David Lynch’s Wild at Heart. Despite being released in 1990, it was one of those rare moments when a hand reached out, took mine, and told me it knew how I felt. It wasn’t what I’d expected – wasn’t this just the pulpy one with Nicolas Cage in a snakeskin jacket? I hadn’t thought of Lynch as an empathetic filmmaker, as someone capable of tackling the psychological effects physical abuse has on women. In fact, if I’d known the film would be dealing with sexual assault, I’d have avoided it.

What distinguishes the sexual assault in Wild at Heart from Lynch’s other films is that Laura Dern’s Lula is given full agency in its depiction. Unlike the laughing gas-induced attacks in Blue Velvet or the mysterious murder of Laura Palmer in Twin Peaks, we don’t see the act itself so there’s no risk of it being confused for narrative pleasure; we see only the aftereffects on a female character we instantly fall in love with. She’s fun-loving, sexy, and in total command of herself. What’s more, her relationship with Sailor (Cage) is unmistakably romantic, and their sex life is shown to be fulfilling and consensual. Light a match, extreme close-up of a burning cigarette, and we settle in for a stream of post-coital duologues consisting of startling trust and honesty.

It’s clear that Lula has told Sailor about her trauma before, and it’s through their healthy sex life that she refuses to allow the rape to control her – she’s a survivor, not a victim. I didn’t feel that way. Like Lula and the statistical majority of other survivors, I was assaulted by someone I already knew. Lula claims she couldn’t talk about it with her mother, and neither could I – it wasn’t until I met my loving boyfriend that I learned to respect myself, to identify the spiral of depression I’d fallen into. And just like Lula, a significant part of that recovery came through not only tolerating but enjoying sex.

That’s not to say those demons have been laid to rest – far from it. But being able to write about it is a sign I’m on the road to recovery. Wild at Heart showed me that you can appear to be better on the surface while invisible scars lurk underneath. Just as I’m triggered by loud noises and sudden movements, Lula’s flashback erupts onto the screen when Sailor slams a window shut. Lynch uses the visual language of film editing to recreate a facsimile of post-traumatic experience. A cigarette calms her nerves, but it’s a short-term fix. Therapy isn’t an option for a woman on the road, not least in its financial cost, and her ‘home’ in the domestic sense is totally dysfunctional. She’s found a home in Sailor, and that’s beautiful.

While Lula clearly knows she needs Sailor, he’s less astute. He’s misguided, committed to an independent life of crime that sees him in and out of jail. In the end, he’s also Dorothy; after the Wizard leaves in his hot air balloon, it takes Glinda in her bubble-gum-pink orb to make him realise that his place is with Lula, that she is his home. Perhaps only Lynch could get away with a sequence like this in a film that’s otherwise coherent. It’s a necessary apotheosis – the Good Witch come to chase away the Wicked Witch of the West who frequently appears onscreen in the place of the violent acts committed against Lula. Together they douse her in water until she melts into nothing. “Oh, what a world! What a world!”

The scene I found hardest to watch in Wild at Heart sees Bobby Peru (Willem Dafoe) taunt Lula. It realises the fear inherent to PTSD, that those traumas aren’t over, they’re ongoing and may come again. Against the peeling wallpaper of the bedroom our eyes are drawn to Lula’s blood-red heels as she draws on her cigarette, a moment of solitary bliss. Then Bobby asks to use her loo before pressing himself up against her, ordering her to say, “Fuck me!” It’s clear he wants to intimidate her, and he leaves soon after, as the camera closes on her shoes as she clicks her heels. She doesn’t say anything, but the direct parallel with Dorothy is heart-breaking. It’s hard to escape from the nightmare when you’re living it.

In Wild at Heart, Lynch gives this seemingly tame gesture from The Wizard of Oz, one of the most iconic images in cinema history, new significance. Lula doesn’t need to say anything for us to get the message – it’s her silence in this scene that’s so arresting, a realistic depiction of how the body can shut down when it’s being assaulted. She’s found her therapeutic methods, and we see her refusal to let it weigh her down. Her ruby slippers might not be magic, but Lula reminds us that it’s possible to leave our troubles behind, somewhere over the rainbow. I’d choose Kansas over Oz any day.

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