#repressed trauma

[promptsforyourwhumpfic]

Whump Prompt #1086

Anon asked:

Need me some prompts for a really happy-go-lucky character who hides their traumas behind a witty remark and a cocky smile

Happy go-lucky is a trope I’ve modelled an OC on so:

Nothing appears to phase the character at first: even when it really should. 

When the Worst Stuff is revealed about their past, everyone is sat in horrified shock except your character, who passes the whole thing off as a funny story. The character shrugs and says ‘and I’m still alive so... I’ll drink to that.’

The ‘it is what it is’ mentality. Someone is mean to them? They’ve heard worse. They’re injured? ‘Not as bad as the last time.’ They’ve just witnessed something horrific? ‘Eh, at least no-one died in my arms this time.’

They’ve learnt to craft their backstory into something more humorous to reduce the impact it has on other people. 

“Hahah, well actually I’ve dealt with this before. It’s a funny story really, I was nearly executed for...”

Maybe one day they can’t hold it in anymore. That One Thing is enough to push them over the edge. Maybe they drink, maybe they do something else self destructive and it all comes out. There’s no cocky smile, there’s no joke; your character is being 100% real and It’s jarring for the caretakers... but also a relief that the trauma is finally being addressed. 

[mango-iex]

My campus has a lot of scenic places that make for beautiful pictures! Especially on a cold and boring night!

[dxrksong]

NOBODY ASKED FOR IT, BUT I DID IT ANYWAYS! Buahahahahaha!!

This was mostly for angst reasons but to also correlate the relationship between Jason and Shadow. As the memory holder, shadow was basically keeping the major part of his soul know what had happened to him so he could experience happiness in the zone.

Of course someone thought it would be funny to revive him, Shadow still technically existing. However somewhat like the Lazarus water, Shadow will eventually be absorbed completely by Jason's core, which will be around the time Jason first transforms and accepts the realization that his situation is as permanent as it is for Danny.

[loveisinpictures]

A vent moodboard for repressed trauma

[thecreep-andtheweirdo]

I feel like I’m a ticking time bomb that’s never going to go off

[mentalhealththingz]

[user-boxer]

This user has repressed trauma

[evillittlebirdie]

Even if you think you’re good, go to therapy after a traumatic event. Because if you don’t, you will end up building a theme park, try to tame an alien, and get yourself, friends, and family killed.

[thatpinkkwitch]

the more my therapist and i manage to figure out about my repressed trauma the more i want to just go nope!! and just leave it alone forever

[chaosdisorganized]

Repressed memories are real memories. You're not making it up. You're not lying. You're learning your truth for the first time and your brain tried to keep it from you for a reason. I know it can be hard to believe something you didn't previously remember, I know it can be hard to accept that yes this thing truly did happen but it's real, it's not fake or made up and I'm so sorry that happened to you. Take care of yourself. Remembering repressed memories is difficult and very emotionally painful, take a break if you can. Do something you enjoy. I believe in you and we will heal, we will recover. <3

[summerdreamof2009]

TRIGGER WARNING: CSA, CHILD ABUSE, RAMCOA??

So my mother used to have me act like a dog for periods of time. Putting me on a leash, giving me a shock collar of some kind and punishing me with it if i refused sexual advances from her, making me eat and sit on the floor like a dog, she would do this for a few months then randomly stop. She usually did this over summer break or over winter break. This all happened when I was in pre-school and elementary school. I am struggling to believe in these memories as I am slowly slipping into denial I just can’t believe my mother could be so evil. My mother has ASPD/NPD/Schizophrenia diagnosed I can’t imagine that most of what she did was when she was psychotic like my therapists have suggested in the past, it’s just too organized and calculated to be from someone in full blown psychosis. How can someone be so evil to there own child that they had from an affair is that why she did this to me?? I can’t believe she hated me so much she’d rather abuse me than just abort me

[promptsforyourwhumpfic]

Whump Prompt #1198

A: “Are you okay” B: “Yeah, it happens all the time” A: “Doesn’t mean you need to deal with it alone - or at all for that matter.”

[fannele]

Repressed memories part 1

When I heard that the corn reminded him of the farm I wanted to do a little head cannon comic of Jax’s childhood in the farm.

Update: I fix the colour because it mess up.

[icanonlyblamemyself]

I BITE THAT HAND THAT FEEDS ME

[talkativetrashpanda]

One of the things I’ve been dreading has happened. We had to put Emma to sleep. I’ve lost dogs before, but that pain was NOTHING compared to this. Emma was more than just a pet. I grew up with my first dog, Kristen, and she passed away when we were fifteen. I was devastated, we’d literally grown up together, but I was too young to have a deep connection with her like I did Emma.

2013 was a horrible year. Arguably the worst in my life. We lived in a duplex owned by my grandfather, he lived on the other side. I was very very close to my grandfather and we spent A LOT of time together. I literally spent time with him every single day. I was a senior in high school when he had a massive heart attack and died.

We’d just been there. Not even ten minutes before. We asked what he wanted for lunch, and mom headed back to our side to cook. When we came back, he was gone. He’d had a massive heart attack that (thankfully) killed him instantly. But my mom and I found him. It was an incredibly traumatic experience that I still have a crystal clear image of in my brain, but at least I’m able to talk about it now.

He died in October. Kristen died EXACTLY a month later, to the day. It was devastating, trying to cope with two major losses. A few months later, I experienced a third, when my boyfriend of three years dumped me in a text message and ran off to florida with some whore. We’d literally been planning a life together after school. He’d given me a promise ring, which he said he’d replace with an engagement ring once we graduated. He’d given me absolutely no indication he’d changed his mind and I was completely blindsided. It was for the best in the long run, but at that time, it felt like I’d lost everything.

We’d said no more dogs after Kristen, but we were all so heartbroken and lost that we decided to get a puppy. I’ve taken the long way around to explain that we raised Emma, and I don’t know how we would have gotten through all that without her. My mom said she knows for certain that dog saved her life. I know she saved mine.

Trying to go on without her is just…it feels impossible. I got through everything with her. She was there every time I was sick, or had surgery, or had my heart broken. She was the one that comforted me when I was hurting and now she’s gone.

It’s even worse for my mom. Emma was basically her emotional support dog. I’m pretty sure she loved Emma as much as she loved me. When she was coping with my grandfather’s death, she’d sit up at night and hold Emma and talk to her. Emma always listened, too. She’d cock her head when you spoke to her and she’d make eye contact the whole time. And she was so damn smart.

She had such a huge personality too. She’d argue with you, she’d throw tantrums like a toddler. She was smart enough to understand you and stubborn enough to ignore you. God, I still can’t believe she’s gone.

We knew it was coming. We knew she had heart failure and we were on borrowed time. We tried to prepare, but how can you? Nothing compares to the real thing. We were given 12-14 months, and we got sixteen. We could see her deteriorating. We could see her beginning to struggle. But she was so damn happy and playful.

We called her wiggle butt because she’d always wag her tail so hard her whole butt shook. She was still doing it when my parents took her to the vet. But she was struggling to breathe and we swore we wouldn’t let her suffer.

I was worried about how my mom would take it, I figured it would destroy her and I was right. They brought her home and she was in a little box, sort of like a coffin. I’d originally said I didn’t want to see her, but mom said she just looked like she was sleeping so I went to say goodbye. And she did, she looked peaceful. It was what came afterward that’s been really traumatic.

Mom was convinced she was still breathing. She made me feel Emma’s chest and was begging me to tell her she was still breathing. Obviously she wasn’t. I had to tell her. She still wouldn’t let Emma go. I told her she had to and she started screaming that she couldn’t. Having to pull my mother away from my dead dog is something I’ll never be able to unsee. Then she started having a panic attack and I had to make her breathe. She was inconsolable. She heard dad begin digging the grave and freaked out. She’d originally said cremation would be silly and expensive but she couldn’t stand the idea of burying her. Then she freaked out about them burning her. I told her she had to choose. She finally chose cremation and I was able to call a place and make arrangements. A family friend offered to cover the cost.

I haven’t really had time to process my own grief and feelings. I expected my dad to stay strong, as he’s usually the strong one, but both my parents have been wrecks. So I’ve been the strong one, making the arrangements and taking care of things. Unfortunately we had to go to Nashville literally the next day for my wrist surgery. It’s been a time.

My dad said something he meant as a compliment, but upset me. “You’re handling this so well.” That’s something I have heard my entire life, and it was never true. I just got better and better at hiding it. My childhood was pretty damn traumatic in an unconventional way (death, death, medical trauma, more death, etc) and I didn’t deal with any of it. I just packed it away. For YEARS I heard “gosh, Allie has handled everything so well, she’s so mature. I couldn’t have handled it. I’m impressed with how she takes everything in stride!”

No I just got excellent at concealing and repressing and has crippling anxiety and depression and wanted to die a little bit.

But I digress.

Hearing those words again were triggering. I can’t do that again, I can’t repress everything again. I’ll lose my mind. But right now I have to be the strong one, the level headed one, and I feel like it won’t be long before the dam breaks.

[chaos-kittens]

If I think about it, there’s so many little signs saying that it did indeed happen, but I still don’t know if I can accept it.