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.
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: firstname.lastname@example.org
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