I'll figure it out, eventually. @thiscouldbesomethingreal - Tumblr Blog

Not only sexual violence itself is traumatizing. The way other people react to it (silencing, victim blaming, minimizing,...) is additionally traumatizing and can determine if a victim develops PTSD or not.

I wonder how my PTSD would have turned out if I hadn't been forced to endure so much additional trauma by people supporting my rapist.

spiritualseeker777

I’ve always hated “what doesn’t kill us makes us stronger” - it’s so much more complicated than that

only-knives

"well everyone has trauma" correct and yet

you fail to recognize not everyone has trauma that impacts their ability to perform activities of daily living - even right down to basic things like eating. and not everyone has trauma dominate their entire life, with no escape: not even escape from within their own mind.

we can recognize that we live in a society that has doled out trauma to most people without punching down on the most vulnerable by telling them they should be able to do x, y, z (ex: work, make friends, get sober, have hobbies, cook, etc) "like everyone else."

you are not the standard. no one is the standard. we are all unique people in our own right and society has failed us all. we gain nothing by shaming anyone.

deeptrospection

#Frankie Riley #be proud of yourself #survival #survivor

An old college poem of mine resurfaced…

You’re not worth a title

I fell for sweet words and honest green eyes,

but all of your promises? Nothing but lies.

No longer a fool, I’ve built my defenses –

far too suspicious for all your pretenses.

Think I’ll believe in your love games again?

I know not to play, like I didn’t know then.

Lied straight to my face then destroyed me with truth,

blinded and bleeding I still wanted you.

I went through depression when you slept around,

and when my heart broke, it made not a sound.

Persuasion and mockery, verbal abuse –

you smiled at me and I didn’t feel used.

We could’ve been great, you could’ve been it,

til I finally realized – you treat me like shit.

You messed with my head and told me my faults;

when I was with you, I couldn’t form thoughts.

You can’t fuck with my head anymore,

and I will not stop you from being a whore.

You hurt me, broke me, almost past repair,

but I’m finally happy; I’m out of your hair.

I’m gone; you blew it. This is your loss –

tnd this is the last time our lines ever cross.

#poetry #abuse #fake love #narcissist #heartbreak #college poem

You SWORE you’d never be like them

#thepastlife #somehow still heartbroken #broken promises #shattered #2011

Dec 2, gaining consistency?

Yesterday's was good. Felt good. Definitely rough around the edges with only minor edits as I went. Not sure if that will be my style this month or if it will vary day to day, prompt to prompt. Here is day two:

Which was worse?

One of you pushed me around, but insisted it was jokingly, later

One of you manipulated me, citing your own mental health to get me to stay.

One of you pressured me, and bought wine for my birthday even when I didn't drink.

One of you drank way too much, and scared me shitless too many times when I wondered if you'd survive the night.

One of you picked up smoking, and even though you knew I hated it, we never actually talked about it. But you made sure to make me feel bad about being upset.

One of you made me think I wasn't enough, 'decorating' your walls with posters of half-naked women.

One of you didn't always want me around, leading to trust issues and broken self confidence.

One of you raped me, insisting that if I loved you I should let you have me. I never said yes. You later texted "I hope you're not mad at me for what I did".

One of you isolated me from my friends until all I had was you.

One of you cheated on me with multiple girls, and somehow convinced me it was my fault.

One of you got me so drunk that I blacked out, but I came back in the middle of you trying to have sex with me. And when I stopped it, YOU got mad.

One of you broke up with me, after ignoring my calls and texts, and then hugged me and said "I wanted to be with you when you cried".

One of you gently tore down my walls, treated me well, rebuilt my trust, and made promises you followed through on. You said you'd move with me after graduation because we were forever. But then you didn't, and became a ghost a year later when I moved back for you.

These were only two different people, but who was more ruinous?

#poetry challenge #not sure if this is poetry #second poem of the month #sexual assault #broken #broken promises

Dec 1, a month of poetry

it's been a very long time since I've given poetry a try. It's been even longer since I used a prompt to guide my writing. I am hopeful that I may get a few good pieces throughout this month, and maybe even some of these prompts will be cathartic. Here we go...

Untitled

what had once been so easy

slipped into something so complicated.

it was two thousand thirteen,

homecoming.

we were under the same tent.

[i didn't know if you were going to be there.]

i was afraid to see you;

[i desperately wanted to see you.]

i saw you, talking with mutuals.

did you notice me?

[how could you not notice me?]