Trauma + Healing Stories
Empowerment + Validation + Support for Trauma Survivors, one story at a time.
Love and other things we find too intimidating, so we dabble.
We dabble in hearts.
We give 10%.
We dip a toe in it.
But if it seems too cold, we retract.
No, no. This is not right. Too hard to try and love this. Too much effort. And too much resistance.
When we meet, befriend, or are family with someone who is cold.
And it hurts us when they are distant back.
When their game face is the same as their "I love you face."
If you are empathic or a highly loving person, this is dangerous for you.
Yet you are in awe of the snow aren't you?
Cold things have an appeal to them.
It is that stark, quiet, resilient, strong exterior.
Ever notice how you feel playful and happy with snow once you play in it?
How delicate and unusual it is, to touch and get a taste of something that is quite deceiving.
It is actually quite delicate and fragile in your hand, isn't it?
In fact, cradling the snow in your palms you can see that it just melts.
And you feel warmth inside from this beauty.
"Look what I can do."
Let's talk about the love and intimacy issues an empath has when they fall in love with snow.
When they delight in the cold things.
Like a child, filled with wonder.
Looking forward to days off, to quiet play.
Let's talk about how cold, frozen things cannot be hot. Like...ever.
There is no warmth in snow.
Yet we look out for it and we choose it.
Let's talk about how falling in love with a narcissist, for an empath, is like leaping up Christmas morning to snow fall on the ground. Running outside to play, no coat or boots.
Running and twirling, socks getting soggy in the powder.
How a beautiful thing, a cold thing is so tempting that even when their lips turn a blueish hue and their teeth begin to chatter, they say "its ok, I am not cold."
Let's talk about how they will lay right on their back in the fluff, arms and legs spread out wide. Taking the snow right in. Absorbing it. Nose wrinkled, eyes shut.
"Just a little while longer."
And now, immersed in the deep end of the yard and burried in this puffy, cool blanket they finally look around at the vast white emptiness.
And the silence kills.
The empty streets, no one around for miles. The isolation snow has. Everyone else safe and warm in their homes while the empath lays there naked and shivering.
Wondering how she got so far away from the warmth, how the feelings got drained from her limbs.
What a realization, that snow does not bless growth -- but instead feeds on all it touches, to death.
How the snow did not warm for her after all. It just melted away into nothing, that is if it did not swallow her whole and take her with it.
Whenever I am on the brink of something amazing, I catch the "self doubt cold".
That isolating and suffocating feeling of "you cannot do this, you do not have it in you."
But then I remind Mrs. Doubt that I can finally realize how much of a "BAD BITCH" I am.
In a reclaim the term and call it being capable kind of way.
Because I've been through some real shit.
I have seen and heard and experiences traumatic, fucked up, abusive shit.
I have been hurt in brutal ways.
I have screamed my lungs out and begged for help out of the pain.
I have been abandoned and thrown out.
I have been betrayed.
But I am still standing here.
And I refuse to lay down.
In fact, over the years my strength went from a whisper to a ROAR.
I have superficial and stupid AF fears now.
Look at me, all cozy in my normal and non
-dysfunctional life. Whimpering at the idea of doing a live video or launching self help courses.
Worried my voice might crack or I might sound nervous.
..... when I have survived nuclear war style fights in my family.
...when I survived being VERY pregnant my senior year of high school where I knew nobody and had just lost everything.
....I have survived domestic fights in the home and brutal abuse from multiple narcissistic people in my family as well as past lovers.
I have undergone so many God damned transformations and burned so many bridges just to get to here.
I KNOW when my chemicals are just out of whack and my fears are just talking out of my butt.
They are irrational.
Stupid, for lack of a better term to describe how ridiculous self ridicule really is.
Now that I want to do happy and great things, my anxiety is on hyper drive.
As I try to climb out to the light---> depression begs me back in.
Tells me to stay comfortable.
Tells me I will never find a better caretaker than it.
Someone who knows me so well, that they even know my weaknesses. And will keep me safe.
I do not want to live safely.
I want to be BOLD.
And that means I have to take risks.
With no "at the risk of".
With no freaking buts.
When you are feeling low and depression is signing its signature on your back, in all honesty ---> TELL IT TO FK OFF.
You got better things to do and accomplish and you are so not ready to lay down.
J.S. Jaded Savior
Depression is a block of mine.
I bet a lot of you have it too.
The a-hole un-welcomed frenemy who loves to drop in,
unannounced, talking shit you do not want to hear.
And you try so hard to be polite....
You want to "humor it".
Hell, you even COOK IT DINNER.
You break bread with depression.
And so do I.
Today we grabbed a coffee together.
And the funniest shit happen.
It was talking, telling me the latest drama and yammering on --- when I started to have this really bitter taste in my mouth. and sore feeling in my throat.
This whole feeling took over my body like a fever.
I felt sick, sitting here in front of depression.
And it hit me.
I hate its MF company.
I hate rambles.
I hate the yammering.
F. I even swore off coffee because it tips my anxiety into unsafe levels sometimes. And I do not like feeling the heart racing pain of regret.
So I had set boundaries.
Like an old friend, someone who did not even know the ME I have become anymore, depression just kept on talking,
Looking all around and laughing its' ass off.
But not looking me in the face.
And again, between chill and nausea, it hit me.
My boundaries. My needs. My precious time.
How did I get here in this seat with this disgusting feeling in my body.
I took the call.
Now I know rationality. I love her. I do not get to see her as often, but I miss her and now try to make it a habit to call her sometimes. Or just leave her little voice memos. Just to tell her I miss her.
I feel totally compelled at this moment to put down my cheap ass, lukewarm coffee and STOP.
STOP depression in its' tracks.
I remember rationality telling me once this funny little trick.
"YOU CANNOT CONTROL EVERYTHING. YOU CANNOT PREDICT EVERYTHING. YOU CANNOT MAGICALLY CURE EVERYTHING."
And she was right. Unwelcomed friends sometimes just "drop-in."
"BUT..." rationality said..." YOU CAN CONTROL YOU."
And my mind was blown.
I set my coffee cup down and I said real calm, looking depression dead in the face.
This was not fun. In fact, I am straight up uncomfortable right now. And what I am about to tell you might be really uncomfortable for us both."
It did not really have a reaction. Just a lifeless stare. Almost through me.
"I am actually not able to sit here anymore. I gave you some time, and really I was just trying to extend myself to be kind. To go out on a limb. But I am not happy with where this is going. And I just want to be honest with you."
Depression seemed to just stand up and walk away like it was not really listening.
And I felt my body felt less tense.
I began to regain my breathe and slow my heartbeat down.. just enough to stop hearing the pounding.
"I just remembered I have somewhere to be. But I will see you around, maybe soon," it said as it avoided eye contact with me and left the room.
"yeah.. maybe" I replied.
Then I just sat with myself for a while. I sat and I thought about my feelings. I processed, I marinated, and then I was done.
I was a bit sad leaving, though I do not know why.
Sometimes seeing a familiar face is nice.
And sometimes I humor things against my own will.
Out of obligation.
Out of guilt.
Out of fear.
Sometimes I do not even know why I answer the call.
But I do know this.
I really want to tighten my inner circle of friends, to call on the ones who matter and the things that make me feel good.
I can control me.
The food, the drinks, the habits. Lifestyle choices. I can control those and do healthy things.
And I know in nature's healing there is a call for balance.
But maybe I won't need to sit with old friends if I set my boundaries to only humor the things that bring me joy.
Being a Trauma survivor, I have had major issues with:
➸ IRRATIONAL FEARS
➸ LACK OF AUTHORITY
➸ LACK OF FAITH
➸ LOSS OF SPIRIT
☣☠ Trauma had me convinced I was not "normal" and that everything was dangerous or suspicious.
When someones' body language or voice or facial expressions gave me a hint of discomfort or sense of suspicion, I immediately withdrew myself from them or the situation.
But a lot of times I was just being triggered and feeling uncomfortable due to something I did not want to confront.
Maybe it was insecurities about myself or a lack of personal growth in a certain area, a weak spot I just refused to confront.
But all I knew was my gut was saying HECK NO -- BACK UP.
I wish I could go back to those moments, like pin tacks on a map in a murder hunt marking all the places I died a little inside.
All those significant little blips on a map that killed off my ability to trust, grow or learn.
I did not know that resistance could keep me from personal growth.
All I learned growing up in a dangerous and abusive household was that I had to steer clear of anything that put me in a position to be hurt. Whether physical, mental or emotional pain was about to take place.
I felt those triggers and pains frequently. When you have a parent that yells, throws china at the wall and tears down the entertainment center in a drunken rage on a nightly basis, you quickly develop an understanding of why some of the smallest and sweetest looking animals have quills.
Danger is lurking everywhere when you are in the land of predators, and even your own biological parents could potentially take you out.
As I grew, that fear and distrust built a wall around me.
Though I would have labeled myself as outgoing and sociable at the time, I realize I had a LOT of symptoms of PTSD and depression.
I kept myself at bay and kept the people in my life convinced I was ok by being an overachiever.
I also tried to have an eternally happy disposition all the dang time. Regardless of what was in my path, everyone saw me as successful and capable. As someone who evaded the path of pain trauma leaves people with. Because I applied myself. Because I was out doing things.
But I did things that served my comfort zones, not my true goals.
I just skated safely in the area of what I truly wanted.
I tried to fit in and keep myself busy.
I spent money on looking the part and being the role I felt I needed to be in order to pass as fine.
As happy and well adjusted.
The truth was hidden in what I did when no one was around.
In the ways, I could not be alone or in when I was alone and just crumbled in my emotions.
The truth was hidden in the times I did not cry or felt numb at things that are appropriately sad or scary.
And more so at my complete self-reliance because I could not let people in to care for me.
I had to prove I could do things all alone.
I had to prove that I could be more than a statistic or a stigma as a teen mom and then a single mom in college.
I was successful and I did A LOT. I wanted to work and go to classes full time. In fact, I piled way too much responsibility on myself and then in my free time went out or hung around friends ---- because I did not want to be alone with myself in my little apartment.
The silence and the darkness would eat at me and I would have flashbacks, panic attacks, deep depression and spirals.
My chores would pile up and my responsibilities would crush me every single time we had a vacation or off time from classes.
I did not know how to lean into myself or who I was. I was hollow when I actually humored my thoughts. I did not know who I was past the many things I was constantly doing.
And so everything reflected that.
Tons of unfinished projects and things that needed to get done pushed to the side all to appease my comfort zone.
Taking way too long or putting off the hard things.
I finally had to face it all this year when I finally experienced quiet --- lack of chaos and that long list of things to do --- and that made me very quickly hit rock bottom.
Realizing my lack of trust, lack of hard experiences or avoidance of hard things ----> It all pushed a rage and depression out of me that I never experienced before.
And suddenly once again I did not know who I was when I looked in the mirror.
Every day I literally said out loud that I hated everything.
"I hate this..." I would cry out... " I hate myself.."
And that mood would rub off on my partner, my kids.. my work..
I finally had to face myself.
And do something unexpected.
I had to admit my flaws and my truths.
To admit the bullshit...and STOP all the spiraling thoughts about not being good enough.
The truth was, I was just living in a constant loop of self-destruction but finally got so exhausted I gave up altogether. For a few days I did not shower, did not want to eat, and could not be near anyone. I did not want to have to even get out of bed. Or talk to my kids.
It was fucking hard and shameful.
But I am so thankful now I leaned in and let it happen.
I allowed myself to let go of control and chaos.. to just FALL. HARD, ON MY FACE.
And then.... like an instinct kicking in, I was able to get back up.
I got up enough to wash myself and have a hard F*cking cry in the shower.
Then I made a conscious decision to change.
Not just my mindset and my present time, but my story.
So I sat at the computer and I started to type.
I wrote out feelings and memories.
I cried all the way through it.
But I just kept writing and pouring out my soul.
And in that out pour came inspiration for my new path.
Finally the right direction.
With honesty, vulnerability, and healing that I never before realized were the pieces missing in who I was.
I realized I needed to find myself in words where my own mind could not keep them trapped or confused.
A place to write and RELEASE.
IT has been a few months now and a NEW season since that meltdown.
And I can truly say I feel 100 years ahead of who and what I was then.
I have learned since that those bullshit traits I was trying to convince myself made up who I was were just that -- bullshit reactions to TRAUMA. My brain was trauma trained since childhood and I never knew better.. not until now.
And now that I am informed, being educated daily and living intentionally with the purpose of healing and growing ---> My soul is ignited with such purpose and LOVE.
All the excuses in the past and fears I had are just falling, as I molt those old identities and truths.
Truth is I no longer need them.
Where I am heading, who I am stepping into literally has to pack light.
I have no room for :
➸ TRUST ISSUES
➸ CONTROL ISSUES
➸ RESISTANCE ISSUES
➸ IRRATIONAL FEARS
➸ LACK OF AUTHORITY
➸ LACK OF FAITH
➸ LOSS OF SPIRIT
My heart is so full every day of:
And I cannot sell some PILL, CLASS, PROGRAM, OR BEVERAGE to provide just made these things.....
I did not drink a Koolade or find a magic potion.
I made a promise to myself and then I honored it.
That is how my healing journey began.
Now my gratitude reminds me daily that it is SO easy to change.
To be reborn.
And I am forever changed, with motivation to write and so many stories yet to be told.
J.S. Jaded Savior📷
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. Questions? Contact Jean at: firstname.lastname@example.org
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