6 A.M. A nurse disturbs my nightmares, and temporarily prevents me from my ritual of staring at the wall upon sweating myself awake, to take my vitals. She wants to make sure I’m still alive, even though, by virtue of this place, I am considered one of the walking dead. 7 A.M. I try to... Continue Reading →
A Letter to My Abuser
Dear Voldemort, I am not a social butterfly, but you took me under your wings and, for a time, made me feel like I could soar. I know that's cliché, especially considering all the future pain you would cause, but for a little while, it was true. By watching you, I learned to live in... Continue Reading →
When Forgiveness Doesn’t Eradicate PTSD
As a Christian, I’m supposed to forgive everyone so that God can forgive me of my sins. I was once an enemy of the Most High, so who am I not to forgive someone who wrongs me when God forgave me of all my junk? Easy, right? No, not really. After spending the entire fall... Continue Reading →
On Discussing Trauma
I think the hardest aspect of trauma, especially in the context of recovery, is talking about it repeatedly. In my experience, I've only discussed it in detail with a counselor and my former pastor, as he has training as a licensed psychologist. I thought that talking about it to strangers would be easier than talking... Continue Reading →
