Earlier today, I read through my friend Michael Patton's post "On Leaving My First Love" and found similarities between where he was years ago and where I find myself now. In it, he speaks of his life's difficulties, arguing with God, and finally coming to a place of surrender. I am somewhere between pulling myself … Continue reading Viewing God Through the Lens of Trauma
Step 1: Befriend someone and study her like scientists examine microscopic organisms beneath the ocean's surface. Learn her likes, dislikes, if she hates her parents and why. Step 2: After learning that she's a loner looking for simple companionship, start eroding her carefully constructed walls, break down bricks with warm hugs, a soft hand on … Continue reading The Art of Sexual Grooming
Yes, you read the title right. Do not freak out. For my charismatic believers, do not get the holy oil and start speaking in tongues and/or casting out demons that may not actually be there. Just let me explain. A Brief Synopsis of My Mental State I am not okay. (Again, do not freak out.) … Continue reading Don’t Drink the Fabuloso: For Suicidal Christians Too Afraid (or Too Condemned) to Ask for Help
Dear Lovelies, I am awake and writing because I have horrible insomnia. I wrote this scene that may or may not go into the novel that I've been writing off and on for three years now (For more info about the writing process, you can read here and here). Sexual assault is mentioned and the … Continue reading A Fictional Psychological Scene: Is it Believable?
Dear Voldemort, I know I shouldn't say what I'm about to say because it's not uplifting or triumphant; there's no happy ending to this particular moment in time. I need to get some things off my chest and you need to listen. I have spent the last two days in complete depersonalization mode, just watching … Continue reading Another Letter to My Abuser
Last night, PTSD won. I spent most of the night curled up in my closet, like a child afraid of the Boogeyman, trying my best to be as small as possible, like nothing at all, because the amount of open space my room offered was too much. Around 11 p.m., I laid on the floor … Continue reading Travailing through Trauma: A Night With PTSD
Last night, PTSD won. I spent most of the night curled up in my closet, like a child afraid of the Boogeyman, trying my best to be as small as possible, like nothing at all, because the amount of open space my room offered was too much. Around 11 p.m., I lied on the floor … Continue reading Travailing through Trauma: A Night With PTSD
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 Writing in the Midst of a Flashback