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Just when I thought I couldn’t feel any worse, my mom’s accusatory words cut into my soul like shrapnel. Her words embedded themselves in my heart and mind: “You don’t know how to...
There is a particular kind of quiet that follows trauma. Not the peaceful kind or the kind you choose. But the kind that settles in when something inside you has gone still… or far...
“Why do I feel so broken?” For years, that quiet question followed me. I felt uneasy in safe places, drawn to familiar pain, and disconnected from people who genuinely cared. I did...
I only found the “language” surrounding CPTSD very late in my life. Learning the reason for my decades of dysfunction and brokenness was my fiftieth birthday present from the unive...
My name’s Lizzy, and I’m a trauma survivor. I write to spread awareness of what it feels like to live after traumatic events and abuse. I know because I’m living this life. A life...
For most of my life, I described my childhood as merely difficult. It was a sanitizing word, one that painted over abuse, neglect, and chaos with a veneer of normalcy. To the ou...
It’s a gloomy winter evening, my seasonal depression is at its worst, and I’ve just finished a difficult day at work. What’s keeping me together? Ripping, cutting, arranging, and g...
There is a quiet longing many recovering from CPTSD carry: the desire to feel free again. Not to be overwhelmed by emotion, not to shut it down, but to feel without fear of what mi...
I heard a story of a woman who was pinned face down on the floor By a gang of six or more as others looked on The post The Voice by Nicola Clare appeared first on Mad In America.
We can find healing powers in writing a poem about our present conflicts or conundrums. This requires no special writing skills. We simply open our mindful brain to our experience...
The breath before the battle.Continue reading on Picture Poetry В»
Why I went looking for broken places, and what they gave back For most of my twenties and thirties, I lived a contradiction I tried to hide from everyone. On the outside, I seemed...
In August of 1992 I ran from my home on East Goldsborough Street to the local police station. I arrived sweating, panting, my face red with fury and with the oppressive Northwest I...
By Madison Petersen, LCSW, PMH-C PTSD Awareness Month “As both a clinician and an artist (with lived experience with both perinatal loss and a PMHD), I have seen how writing and vi...
I might have been in the grips of insanity, but I wasn’t unaware that something wasn’t right. The post When I Lost the Plot: A PTSD Implosion appeared first on Mad In America.
You Can’t Run Away From Your Own Head Human beings are like an iceberg. We go through life sharing only the pieces of ourselves that we want people to see. But there’s so much more...
How I accidentally built a healing practice without knowing what I was healing from In 1987, I walked into a job interview in Montreal and couldn’t say my own name. I was twenty-tw...
I want to live. This sentence matters more than anything that follows it.Continue reading on Medium »
Summer can bring great weather, vacations, and gatherings. Though for many living with Complex Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (CPTSD) it can also induce, or bring with it, emotiona...
I sit within four silent walls, Waiting for answers That may never come. The clock moves, The sun rises and falls, Yet the questions remain. Uninvited companions occupying Every co...
the betrayal is always within. waiting to be discovered. cordial thieves gnaw on the bonesthe poison fluctuates between assassin and salvation. the curious arithmetic of exposed fl...
One of the greatest misconceptions I encounter is that trauma belongs in the past. However, trauma is not only a historical experience but is a psychobiological process that influe...
Poetry addresses many of our most commonly experienced human challenges and has the power to foster resilience, hope, and healing.
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