#processing pain

[mindinthevoid]

“Don’t guilt-trip me for processing pain. This is how I heal... out loud, unfiltered, and without permission.”

[strandedchesspiece]

"Grandma how do you deal with pain?"

"With your hands, dear. When you do it with your mind, the pain hardens even more."

“With your hands, grandma?"

"Yes, yes. Our hands are the antennas of our Soul. When you move them by sewing, cooking, painting, touching the earth or sinking them into the earth, they send signals of caring to the deepest part of you and your Soul calms down. This way she doesn't have to send pain anymore to show it.”

"Are hands really that important?"

"Yes my girl. Think of babies: they get to know the world thanks to their touch. When you look at the hands of older people, they tell more about their lives than any other part of the body.

Everything that is made by hand, so it is said, is made with the heart because it really is like this: hands and heart are connected.

Think of lovers: When their hands touch, they love each other in the most sublime way.”

"My hands grandma... how long since I used them like that!"

"Move them my love, start creating with them and everything in you will move. The pain will not pass away. But it will be the best masterpiece. And it won't hurt as much anymore, because you managed to embroider your Essence.”

~Elena Barnabé

(I read this today, and my God it hit hard)

[dahtwitchi]

Another chapter :D

Rating: Explicit (not yet though) Relationship: Maito Gai | Might Guy/Umino Iruka Additional Tags: Comic, Art, Chronic Pain, Angst, Happy Ending, Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Pain, Canon Disabled Character, Wheelchairs, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

[manicpixiesithlord]

idk about y’all but that was an exhausting Christmas... despite that, I hope everyone managed to enjoy themselves, relax, find some solace and comfort with their loved ones. Even if you don’t celebrate, happy holidays to you and yours! I’d still like to send everyone a message of goodwill and prosperity :) I’m lucky enough to have not lost anyone this year, however I know some of you probably aren’t as lucky as me. Wherever those you have a loved and lost are I hope they’re resting in peace, their souls preparing to be reborn so they may meet you in another life. Whatever pain you all may be feeling has lessened and that the happiness you’ve been searching for finds you.

[writingmywaytofreedom]

What They Don’t Know Is Killing Me

TW: childhood trauma, sexual abuse (coded language), religious abuse, CPTSD, medical trauma, suicidal thoughts

I live in a prison inside my own mind.

Not a day goes by that I don’t feel the weight of what I went through—the kind of childhood that shatters you before you ever get a chance to become whole.

On one side of my family: strict religion, control, silence. On the other side: chaos, neglect, addiction. And me, somewhere in the middle, being torn apart and fed to wolves disguised as humans.

I was handed alcohol so I’d forget what was being done to me. Given chew and cigarettes like it was funny. Left in the care of a woman who wrapped cruelty in religion—and behind closed doors, she broke me. Her son started hurting me when I was 13. It continued until I was 16.

I was 14 when they put me on birth control. They screamed at me to confess who I was “with.” They didn’t understand—or maybe didn’t want to—that I hadn’t chosen any of it. I ran away that year. It stopped for a while. But eventually, it started again.

And I kept that secret buried for 20 years.

No one believed me. Not my family. Not the ones who should have protected me. That disbelief hollowed me out from the inside. It taught me that silence was safer than truth. But silence doesn’t heal. It just festers.

I have Complex PTSD. I have a body wrecked by endometriosis. I have pain in places no scan can see. I live inside a nervous system that never feels safe. My head pounds, my body breaks down, and my soul feels like it’s slipping through the cracks.

And I’m tired.

This blog isn’t going to be light. It’s not going to be easy to read. It’s here because I have no other outlet. Because the truth has rotted inside me long enough. Because if I don’t let it out, I might not make it.

I’m not looking for pity. I’m looking for air. For truth. For someone to hear me.

I don’t know what healing looks like yet. But this is my first step: writing my way to freedom. Even if I have to bleed every word to get there.

[fruityboothang]

The craze that screams to run.

When all I was asked for was assurance.

When all I want to do is give it.

When my soul remembers who ingrained this.

[adragonscupoftea]

Forgiven

I’m not writing this because I want to. I’m writing this Because I’m at a point in my life Where I have to. It’s been so long since I’ve seen you, But your voice still echoes In my ears Like a phan…

Hey all! I thought I posted this earlier but now I can’t find it. I can be a little bit dumb though, so sorry if this is a repeat posting. Anyway, this is my latest poem Forgiven. It’s a poem that’s kind of about processing pain, in a way. My video isn’t the best this time, but the written form is right underneath it, so you don’t have to hear my voice if you don’t want to. Hope you enjoy!