Goodbye. By Jess H Page
The following poem I wrote the night Sassy was taken from us. She was such a sweet cat. Then they all are, aren’t they? Our babies of fur. Last afternoon when I got home from work Mom came to visit and told me what had happened. Sassafras was put to sleep and joined all of our other babies on the Rainbow Bridge.
Having A Bad Day, So This.
This tightening in my chest,
This knot in my stomach,
These unshed tears in my eyes,
This past I cannot escape.
Childhood Conditioning and Stockholm Syndrome
Recently I had a conversation via Facebook with one of my new friends that I have made through this project. Truly I had no idea how creating this Facebook Page, then my blog would affect my life. I have been “meeting” some amazing people and it is a wonderful way to connect and share and […]
When The Darkness took Shape
In about 1988 December 24th, my biological mother took her own life*. I was sent to stay with her ex-husband Bruce Hazlett and his wife Cindy, my maternal siblings, and, their half-brother David. When, a week later I was shipped off to another foster home, it was because I was taking attention away from their son and because I was me. I read the report from the Big Box of Pain and it stated that he had said that I would always be Jessie Alden. Meaning I did not fit, nor would I ever fit into their lives.
READER SUBMISSION POST !!Trigger Warning !!
C-PTSD Trauma Survivor From the age of 5, up to my 18th birthday, I don’t remember a day where my life wasn’t pure hell. I had abusive parents, an older brother who hated me, and encouraged our younger brother to hate me as well…and a grandfather who molested me.
Yeah. That’s why older brother hated me. He claimed I had lied about the whole thing. And so did many others.
Bleeding Out Through Writing…
This is going to just be like most of my Facebook live videos, a rambling post that I am just going to let flow. There is no purpose to this other than to express myself. It will be interesting to see how it turns out. Read, don’t read, I just need to write.
I feel like I shit. I wrote about that a while ago, I am not okay. And it is okay not to be okay but it feels like shit and as the chemicals in my brain change due to the medications I am taking to help me deal with the symptoms of the C-PTSD or Developmental Trauma Disorder, I am struggling.
A Childhood Trauma Survival Story
Hi I am now almost 25. When I was just a few weeks old my dad hurt me physically for the first time. He pinched the top of my ear and it turned black instantly that was just the beginning.
In the weeks and months that followed he had made my baby milk wrong deliberately so I would inhale the powder which resulted in me being admitted to hospital. Then when I got home he tried to drown me, I was covered in bruises and at 9 weeks old he threw me onto the sofa and broke my arm in 3 places the doctor called it a spiral break.
Today, I Am not Okay
Yesterday, I was not okay.
As far back as I can remember, I have never been okay.
I have been many things.
What are Gaslighters?
Gaslighting is a term to describe people who try to manipulate others by psychological methods. Essentially they use this to make the other person question their own reality, their own sanity and their own way of looking at things, especially themselves.
What does C-PTSD and PTSD healing really mean?
One year ago I reached a point where I could not handle my life anymore. My depression was so strong, for me, and I was falling apart. I would be wracked with emotional flashbacks. I would be hit at any moment without warning with pain, grief and loss. I would start to feel the rage that had plagued me when I was a child. There would be times when I would put up the emotional bubble, the shield that protected me from feeling when I was a kid.