Trauma + Healing Stories
Empowerment + Validation + Support for Trauma Survivors, one story at a time.
Your progress is not the sum of everyone else's support.
If you want to grow + expand your mindset and do something, you just have to do it and with your own motivation.
Your motivation can be seen as rock bottom. It might be that you never again want to be or feel alone. Or the way that you just did.
It could be the FINAL disappointment you faced and consciously decided no MORE of that.
Motivation does not have to be pretty.
And guess what?
Some people's reactions wont be pretty either.
What it has taken for you to change your life around, ONLY YOU KNOW.
YOU are the creator of your own LIFE story.
And whatever it takes to write a better future---> as long as it is healthy and wise ---> DO IT.
ONLY NON SUPPORTERS WILL SHOW UP TO SHADOW YOUR HAPPINESS.
And you do not need them anyways.
IF YOU ARE THINKING:
■ I DON'T HAVE THE MONEY TO CHANGE
■ I DON'T HAVE THE TIME TO CHANGE
■ I DON'T HAVE THE RESOURCES TO CHANGE
Know that the only thing going on right now is your fear is trying to talk you down.
Anxiety and depression are fighting for the SOAP BOX to tell you that your story has already been written "and it's a tragic one".
That is not true.
It is not logical.
Here's a thought that is though.
If you show up, you are bound to change.
AND SHOWING UP IS FREE.
NO ENTRY TICKET.
NO DOOR CHARGE.
If you show up for progress, you not only have a free pass but you get to choose what you take with you beyond the door.
BONUS DEAL, not everything is going to fit so you will need to travel light.
BUT WAIT, THERE'S MORE....
Whatever does not fit in your life simply will be too heavy to carry on your journey.
And there is no time on your ticket.
You can SHOW UP whenever you want to.
Even if it is someone else's birthday or a holiday or mid breakup or a call to get away during a time others needed you.
You earned this ticket.
Any damn time you feel like accessing it.
I decided I need to be better.
Even though I'm poor.
Even though I have depression, anxiety and CPTSD.
Even though I don't have a set career.
Even though I don't have my own place to live.
Even though it's a Friday and a random time in the year.
EVEN THOUGH MY ANXIETY TELLS ME I HAVE TO START ON THE "FIRST OF THE MONTH" IN MY PLANNER OR ELSE IT WON'T COUNT AND I WILL FAIL LIKE I ALWAYS DO.
Anxiety is kind of a c*nt.
I need money to change, but not alot.
In the reality of reality, if I ask for donations in order to help me grow ----> a simple dollar donation from someone will get me [say it with me] ONE DOLLAR CLOSER TO THE HELP I NEED].
EXPANSION AND FEARS ARE ANTONYMS HERE.
You have to strip yourself of shame, worry, and what ifs.
ANXIETY IS NOT CONSIDERED CARRY ON.
So understand this.
You CAN. NO. YOU WILL FIND THE ANSWERS, SO LONG AS YOU START ASKING THE QUESTIONS.
So... do the work.
Ask for help.
Research your options.
Type in "free resources for .....".
Email a non -profit Organization that works with Trauma + Mental Health + Education + Transformation.
Whatever your unhealthy or undesirable struggles are ----> an answer awaits you.
The solution is just to SHOW UP.
J.S. Jaded Savior
I've been thinking a lot about the concept of "whole" and how unattainable it feels for someone who has been shattered by abuse.
We idolize this idea of "whole" because we think there are people out there who just "are".
Who were born into the perfect, loving family.
Who never had to struggle without money or shelter or food or provisions.
Whole means holidays of magic and celebration.
Whole means a full fridge all the time and a happy person ready to cook and serve it.
Whole means loving relationships and healthy communities that all go [not out of their way] exactly as ALL IN as they should into helping one another out.
Whole means friends who show up, call, celebrate, and encourage you.
Whole means a job you love and an environment you absolutely love showing up to.
Whole means great health and balanced diets. Strong bodies and athletic stamina.
Whole means pleasured and pleasuring and nights full of orgasmic perfection.
Whole means all time is managed and all nooks are in their crannies and all bows are perfectly symmetrical.
Whole means never having to heal from the bad.
Whole means kisses and promises dont taste like regrets.
Whole means heard.
Now a days I ask myself...
Who even is "whole"?
Who had the luxury of being raised "whole" without nightmares or anxiety or depression?
Without illusions of who they can really trust or what their reality is really like without abuse?
Probably very few.
I want to talk about our TRUTHS.
The things that keep our shards of broken emotions taped together.
"I want to shake the standard and provoke the term 'whole' because too many people are avoiding their truths thinking that facades are crazy glue.
The truths are that we are every bit made up of trauma, each and everyone one of us is in some way hurt.
And so long as we chase our tails thinking the tip of healing is the end all, we do not really see the entire value of what we are in the present.
Not being whole has taught you a whole lot about life.
Not being perfect has helped you to grow through your mistakes.
You just need a reminder daily that what you are currently is a moving mosaic.
And it is beautiful.
So sit down with it, the fragments of your being.
And tell yourself it is enough now.
You are enough right now, your valuable insight and resilient nature.
And you will never "become somebody" or "do something meaningful" once you are "whole".
You will be invaluable now if you speak your truths.
Your purpose now is to be transparent during the hard days.
So that we can all realize we are quite similar.
And finally stand together.
J.S. Jaded Savior
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.
It's been a rough week.
I have felt huge waves of emotions, a lot of doubt in who I am and what my purpose is in this life.
But something amazing has also occured.
I have found my Trauma-voice.
And have given her a secret name.
I now know when she talks to me.
And when the voice starts talking, it sounds a little like this:
"I am not able to get through today. It is too hard."
"I cannot have another day like this."
"I don't know how I am going to survive this."
"I don't have it in me to argue or prove myself. I am just going to be quiet."
I developed a relationship with my inner voice when I was a child.
I have trusted her for so long, not knowing she was separate from who I POTENTIALLY am.
Not knowing that present me often argues with something inside my head that is not even "me".
It is just a ball of energy and smoke, a spirit filled with fears and flashbacks from the hardest times in my life.
Though the emotions within it were once very real, they are all a thing of the past.
I am no longer caught in a war zone.
I no longer get abused by my parents or manipulated and hurt by my exs.
I am safe.
I am present, so long as I separate myself from that voice.
Trauma is NOT me.
She was wounded repeatedly by emotional abuse and horrible physical assaults. She was scarred by unstable relationships and unpredictable moods.
I think for quite some time now, I have known that this voice MUST be separate from "me" because everytime I hit my low points or I am put in a triggering situation ----> I fight my way past it.
This week, in the midst of chaotic kids and a horrible stomach virus, this voice was so loud and it screamed for me to just drop everything. To stop trying. To ignore the world. To sleep.
"But for how long?" I begged to know.
"Who cares"...it whispered.
And in an instant, like waking out of a dream in a cold sweat, I realized the separation from her and I. In fact, I severed it. And I spoke to it with some heavy truths.
"I am so capable. I am able to do whatever I want to do. I am on the right path. I can feel it. I trust it."
Trust in myself ----> that was the blade that cut me free.
I know I will keep hearing this inner voice. This shadow of doubt. I know she is scared and defenseless.
Someone long ago created her.
And in a way, that was a gift.
I have been protected from some potentially deadly situations because I did not take the risk.
I have been able to stay alert, hypervigilant, and scan the people around me in order to draw out potential abusers.
But it has not been a fail proof system.
Her fears let me know it is flawed.
I still took some risks and chances, but always dancing around the safety line.
I have feared growing bigger because of her.
I have told myself before that sharing my story is dangerous.
That I am just creating a road map with tourist stops and pleasure hotels for abusers to reside in <------------
She is still scared of being hurt again and thinks that growth = exposure.
But I want exposure.
I am tired of walking around with these stories burrowed deep into my body.
Making my back ache, my neck sore, my shoulders tense, my knees weak.
I am tired of the fears and pain surging through my veins, keeping me up at night and fencing me in from potential growth --------> I know growth also means healing.
Trauma has been telling me all along that it is not safe to even begin to heal.
She had it all wrong.
In order for me to heal, I need to walk through the belly of the beast.
I need to be brave, vulnerable and trusting with myself that I can take the journey back through my timeline and correct the end result of who I am to become.
Healing = Transcendence
She will never be ready for that, and now that I know this I can do what I do best.
I can silence her in love and I can push myself forward.
Life is all about choices.
My Trauma and PTSD have damaged pieces of me that were not even aware they became dormant.
I have disassociated with the most painful of recollections and that has held me back from seeking out the highest platforms of my potential.
I am ready to step outside of all of the former fears, because the truth is nothing can possibly be scary if I have not even tried it yet.
In fact, scary does not even exist.
It is simply the unknown that I seek.
I will have triggers to tackle -- like loathing and despair, irrationality, and complacency. All of them not speaking but tapping on my heart.
And it will require more rough days ahead.
But the fight is worth it.
J.S. Jaded Savior
JADED SAVIOR: Speak your truths
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: email@example.com
EMPOWERING MINDS SINCE 2019