Trauma + Healing Stories
Empowerment + Validation + Support for Trauma Survivors, one story at a time.
You cannot have a healthy life if you are busy building your house with mud.
If everything every negative person throws at you, you honor as bricks.
Your foundation is only created with honesty, transparency, and awareness.
Those are three different fundamental ingredients in building a healthy YOU.
Though linked, they serve entirely different purposes in your life.
Honesty is the tool we use to differentiate between right and wrong.
Transparency is the way we paint that truth for others to see.
Awareness is the way we paint it for ourselves.
You cannot keep picking up mud from others when they do not have a foundation to even stand on.
No amount of money can buy the ground in which I talk about standing on.
No experience in the world can fabricate it, unless you apply what truths you have discovered to your personal growth.
In the end, we are all a sum of our truths.
I decided that my truths had to be painted across my whole life.
I had to reveal to people what my struggles really are.
As someone with PTSD, I am often stuck in my own past truths.
The stories that came along with the beginning of my life.
I have only been building that foundation for 29 years, 28 of which I spent worried about what people might think.
What will people say if I tell them my present? My past?
If who I am feels empty of a sense of "home" because trauma taught me how to live life on the streets.
Always with no strings attached and ready to burn bridges.
With a paintbrush in one hand and a match in the other.
I never wanted to believe other people's bullshit and baggage ---> infact my hypervigilance made me see the mud beneath their fists, their elevated heartbeats and loud thoughts.
I grew up around people who did not know the concept of truth.
Mental illness made my parents believe in stories that never even happened while running out scenarios they never could remember.
That is what addiction does.
What schizophrenia did.
Paint pictures on the wall of mud caves and convince them it was a mansion.
I chose early on to not fall for illusions but that kept me fearful of building something for myself.
I always questioned if I was capable of making my own dreams come true ----
Or if PTSD just kept me stuck as little girl making sandcastles in the sand.
At 29, I've had an awakening.
I've woken up to realize that sand was just mud.
And all I have done is sat around squeezing it through my fingers like a stress ball to ease my anxiety.
I have come to realize, through education and healing, that those people who gave me mud were not sitting around laughing.
That would be rational.
When someone throws constant judgement and criticisms at you, tries to tell you who you are for you and dismantle your chances of happiness-----> they do not have the capability or awareness to stop. Or say sorry.
Sick people cannot apologize for misleading you.
Guess what they lack?
Mud flingers have no foundation.
How on earth do you expect them to help you create yours?
So what is the solution?
The ironic thing is we often learn the hard way.
Through struggle and awareness, we realize we did not need anyone else.
Growing up, I had very little encouragement to follow my dreams. My life was kept very sheltered and controlled.
But I grew only as big as the tank that held me every single time.
Now I know I need to stop expecting tools or encouragement from broken people.
I can be resourceful AF on my own if I'm not sitting around waiting for others, especially those surrounding me, to build my life.
I know what it takes.
Sitting with my truths. Speaking my truths.
Brick by brick.
Until I arrive at the life I love, in full cognizance of the things that made me become healthy and whole.
J.S. Jaded Savior
J.S. Trauma + Healing Stories
A collective of stories about Trauma + Healing, to promote awareness, validation and support for Trauma Survivors.
Content mention of Rape, Abuse, Neglect, Addictions, Mental Illness, Kidnap, Molestation, Child abuse, Teen Pregnancy, Abortion, birth, body image, gender/identity dysphoria, sexuality, personal trauma, domestic violence and other extremely personal stories. Please practice caution. I am not a licensed physician or mental health professional. No medical prescribing is provided on this site, Only personal insights, experience stories, and advice; All stories published have had prior authorization.
Jean Grey is a pen name that I use across socials and as a writer at my own discretion. Jean is my birth name and Grey is a symbolic addition I chose for significance to my identity.
Questions? Contact Jean at: firstname.lastname@example.org
EMPOWERING MINDS SINCE 2019
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