Reminder That Many Abuse Victims Get Triggered By Anger, Whether It’s Directed At Them Or Not. Please

Trauma didn't make me nice, I consciously made me nice because I don't want anyone else to suffer like I did. Trauma didn't make me strong, I made me strong. Don't you dare ever tell me my trauma made me anything but scared, broken, and confused. Don't give credit to the abusers for me being a good person. They didn't make me good, I made myself good.

brain: u gotta be… The Best™

me: ok so we’ll work hard then?

brain: no work… only Best.

It’s my fault I’m traumatized? Do you realize just how much work goes into traumatizing a person to this level? Can you imagine how much lies and gaslighting it took for me to start doubting my memory and start asking myself if I was insane? Do you understand what amount of violence it took to make me flinch at every movement, expecting a blow? Do you get how many insults and screaming it took to make me believe that everything was my fault, that I was less than a human being, irredeemable and worthless to the core? Do you understand how much humiliation, hatred and threats it takes to make someone this terrified and isolated? This was years and years of hard work! I could never take the credit, for once I lack the dedication, I would yell at myself maybe once and then go “meh lets leave it at that”. I would never have the energy to do this to myself! All the credit goes to my parents, they fought tirelessly to make me this exhausted, terrified, panicked mess overridden with grief and rage, they really put in the effort, and made it all possible.

Me, clearly traumatized: yeah, but like, what if I’m faking it??? Like, what if it’s not real???

“Of course I knew. But it was my mind that knew, and it was my heart that was making the decisions.”

— Poetry At Most

I know the reason why you left…I just don’t know her name.

Poetry At Most

Another night on my own, and you’d think after 6 years I’d be used to sleeping alone, but when I lay down my head, this house still feels like an empty home.

Poetry At Most

“I’m trying really hard to be this person that has her shit together, that has some form of fucking control over anything that has to do with my life. I’m trying really hard not to be so god damn fucking angry at everything. At the world, at myself, at people in my life. I’m trying to mask it all with some point or validation or giving it a mean by saying “this has to happen for a reason. It had to.” But maybe that’s just it, that’s what’s driving me crazy. Maybe there is no reason why bad things happen or good things happen. Maybe there is no reason and it’s just that, a thing that happened. It’s just the universe being cruel and the universe giving you a break once in a while because if we’re being honest there is ALWAYS something. There will always be a time in your life where it feels like bricks are sitting on your chest and there will always be a time after the bricks when the light peaks through one small crack and you have that moment where you don’t feel like you’re drowning and you think “This is it, this is where things get better. This is where I get better.” And it’s true you do get better. You get better every time, but there will never not be a time when there isn’t bricks sitting on your chest and that is what is so goddamn heartbreaking to me. We are born and we suffer and we live and we are happy and sad and everything in between and then we just die. Our bodies go into the ground or get spread out somewhere that was once meaningful to you if your family or friends know you, if you’re lucky. If you’re lucky you might also find love. I’m trying, I’m really trying to find the goddamn crack in the pile of bricks but fuck. What’s the point? What is the god damn point.”

— Wednesday, March 25th, 2020 11:33 pm

Something people don’t understand about child abuse

One of the things that I really hate is that people don’t understand that survivors act differently and respond to their traumas in different ways.

I’m a survivor of csa and so is my friend. Her trauma made her extremely hypersexual while I could literally cry if someone even touched me.

My bf is a survivor of csa, I can talk for hours about my trauma if I felt safe enough while he NEVER brings it up.

A friend of mine is a survivor of emotional abuse and so am I. Her trauma made her angry while mine made me soft and defenseless.

My bf remembers every little detail about his trauma, while I repressed most of my childhood and traumas.

There’s no special “criteria” that you should fill in order to be a “valid” survivor, and there’s no specific way you should act if you were abused.

People respond to their traumas differently and it’s okay, your abuse is STILL valid no matter how you respond to it.

“Fuck, I really thought you wanted me like I wanted you”

— do you even think about me