healingjourney

I'm angry.

Anger fueled by rage, I'm constantly screaming on the inside. Anger made me "dramatic". Anger made me "disrespectful". Anger made them uncomfortable.

So I buried it. I buried it so deep that I didn't even know it existed. I buried it so deep, I forgot what they did to me. Waking up every day believing that it didn't happen, yearning for love and affection.

But here's the truth I'm learning now: My anger is not the problem. My anger is the part of me that now remembers I deserved better.

I'm angry that my boundaries were ignored.

I'm angry that my voice was stolen.

I'm angry that I was made to believe everything was my fault.

This anger doesn't mean I'm bitter - it means I'm finally in a safe space to feel what I couldn't back then.

It rises in waves, not to destroy - but to release. To unfreeze my body. To burn away the silence. To make space for something new.

I'm angry that I had no guidance, no love, no regulation, no understanding. I got nothing from them.

It was all a lie.

Anger, rage, hatred are all normal emotions to feel when healing Trauma of any kind. What sets you apart from the abuser, is learning to let it go when it doesn't hurt anymore. Understanding that it was never personal.

I'm learning to let it burn through me, not consume me.

#anger #MentalHealth #healingjourney #Trauma

Just another day of surviving C-PSTD. Everything looks good on the outside. But on the inside, my stomach is twisted, my nervous system is barely functioning from overuse, and my soul is deeply exhausted.

The other day I was triggered by an employee at the DMV who did nothing but her job. I spiraled hard that day, I screamed and cried for hours. It wasn't just about the missing paperwork. It was the fact that I was never guided on how to do life or how to navigate adulthood. So every time I come face to face with a obstacle, and it doesn't pan out - Triggered.

First, I feel the weight hit my chest, then my stomach starts to churn. Tears are inevitable. But it's not just sadness. It's blinding hot rage and anger. I went home and collapsed into screams and sobs. At one point, I yelled at the photos of my departed mother, I find it harder to feel empathy for her with each passing day. It's hard to describe what I'm feeling on the inside or what it's like to heal from everything I experienced, so I'll try, it's word vomit, plus real vomit with a tidal wave of emotions with only one way out. Eventually, I passed out from exhaustion. My afternoon naps - those are the only times I really sleep. At night, the real demons come. In the dark. Where the other monsters reside.

Healing is a rollercoaster in my life. One minute I would be perfectly fine. The next - chaos.

I've learned this: healing is step by step. You define what that looks like.

I've noticed a pattern: first the emotions explode, then I sit. Then my mind starts sorting the facts. I need timelines,. Logic. The 5 W's: who, what, when, where, why.Eventually both sides of me - the emotional and the logical - meet. I can begin to co-exist with what happened. In the present and the past. Because once the emotional attachment releases, it's just a fact about me. And facts can't hurt me the way memories do.

I remind myself daily, I am not broken, I am merely carrying more weight than anyone should. About this post... these words... I've held them in my soul far too long.

To the reader that made it this far, I see you and I see your pain. I hope that you find what's been missing and reclaim it as your own.

#CPTSD #healingjourney #TraumaRecovery #MentalHealth #youarenotalone

Growing up as a missionary kid in the IFB church shaped much of who I was—for better and for worse. The strict rules, the fear-based teachings, and the pressure to always appear “perfect” left deep scars. Leaving that world behind has been both freeing and painful.

Religious trauma isn’t always visible, but it affects how we see ourselves and the world. Healing is a slow journey, but sharing our stories helps. If you’re also healing from religious trauma, know you’re not alone. There is hope beyond the fear.

Thank you to this community for being a place of understanding and support. 💙

#ReligiousTraumaSurvivor #MissionaryKid #IFB #healingjourney #youarenotalone

Lies upon lies, deception upon deception —

Secrets buried beneath secrets, a layered infection.

Crimes whispered in corners, dark shadows roam,

While the innocent are told to suffer alone.

They call it family, call it love,

But what god above could watch from above?

To silence a soul with a single demand —

"Stay quiet, stay loyal, don’t bite the hand."

But loyalty isn’t the cage they built,

It’s a noose made of gaslight, resentment, and guilt.

And silence — they say it brings peace —

But the truth screams louder, it will never cease.

They sharpen their words like blades in the night,

But it’s the scapegoat’s blood that’s bathed in their spite.

A sacrifice, bound and spun on the flame —

Laughed at, discarded, yet burdened with blame.

They drink and they feast as I burn in their view —

A ritual of torment, the role I outgrew.

But still, I’m served up on a platter of shame —

My suffering their comfort, my pain their game.

"Choose life," they sneer, "But live it our way."

Or bow to the devil, let morals decay.

But I’d rather be pierced by a thousand cruel lies —

Than live in a world where the righteous disguise.

Because freedom’s no gift from the hands of the damned —

It’s claimed by the broken who dare make a stand.

And if I must fall for the truth to survive —

Then let it be known, I lived — truly alive.

No martyr, no savior, no saint in disguise —

Just a soul who refused to be swallowed by lies.

So strike if you must — but remember this cry —

The scapegoat you slaughter will rise from the sky.

#scapegoatsurvivor #healingjourne #healingjourney #survivorpoetry #emotionalhealin g #frompaintopower #soulhealing #TraumaRecovery #poeticexpressio n#MentalHealthAwareness #strengthenwithin #healingthroughword #ReclaimYourPower #boundariesmatter #EmotionalFreedom #healingispossible #youarenotalone

They whispered lies like lullabies,

Soft at first—just echoes, sighs.

Planted seeds in fertile ground,

Until your thoughts weren’t yours—they drowned.

They wrote your story in the dark,

Painted blame upon your heart.

Taught you guilt like it was air,

Made you think they put it there.

"You ruin, you break, you bring the rain,"

They stitched those words into your brain.

But what if truth was never theirs?

What if love was always scarce?

You were never the curse.

You were never the weight.

You were the light they feared,

The soul they couldn’t break.

And now you rise, the story’s flipped,

Unchained, untamed, the script is ripped.

The mirror they shattered, it wasn’t you—

It was their own reflection breaking through.

You are not their shame.

You are not their pain.

You are the one who got away,

And you will never break again.

Unshackled. Unbroken. Unstoppable.

They wrote the story. You hold the pen.

Heal. Rise. Rewrite.

Your light was never the problem.

Break free. Stay free. Shine on.

#BreakTheCycle #Unbroken #healingjourney #RewriteYourStory #RiseAbove #youareenough #FromSurvivorToThriver #MentalHealthAwareness #OwnYourPower #resiliencerevolution

Today, early in the morning, I had a dream—a dream so blissful that it felt like a slice of heaven. But it wasn’t pristine white, nor was it a place free of worries. It wasn’t some perfect paradise devoid of sin. Instead, it was my paradise. It was filled with small joys, the kind of mundane worries that give life meaning. It felt real. I loved it so much. It was so lovely. And yet, as dreams often are, it was fleeting. When I woke, the weight of reality crushed me once again. This empty life—empty not in the freeing sense, but in the suffocating one—was there waiting for me.

For a long time, perhaps even now, I’ve been desperate to end it all. To escape. To leave behind the pain, even if it means taking the regret along with me. I regret it all—the unlived moments, the joys I longed for and never tasted. Yet, I keep asking myself: do I even have a choice? Death feels like the only way out. I know what comes after such a choice—I know where such a sin leads. Hell.

But I keep hoping. Hoping for someone, Mi Amor, to help me escape. Hoping to find something—anything—that resembles the mundane life I desire so badly. A normal life, mundane in all the ways that make it beautiful. But deep down, I wonder if I even deserve that. Isn’t it clear by now that I’m not meant for this world? That I can’t hold on to anything? That I’m doomed to suffer, to only dream of luxury and peace while carrying the weight of this reality?

It feels like the Ten of Swords in tarot—a card that speaks of unavoidable endings, of burdens too heavy to endure. Why must this suffering continue? Why can’t I find peace, even in death? I long for an easy, gentle passing—but I’m too much of a coward to take it. Am I weak for wanting both—to live and to die? To escape and to stay? I don’t know what I want anymore.

All I know is this: I dream of sanctuary, of finding something mundane and safe, far away from the worries that haunt my waking life. I want to let it all go. I offer my body, mind, and soul—the parts of me that have been claimed over and over again. Take them once more and let me drift away. I can’t face this reality. The truth of it is too much to bear.

Call me a coward if you like—I don't care. Let the world think of me that way. It matters only that you, the one who truly knows me, understand just how much I have endured. May death finally claim me, and with it, may I find an end to this unbearable weight... #MentalHealth #hopelessness #DreamsVsReality #TenOfSwords #CopingWithPain #InnerStruggles #LifeAndDeath #SeekingPeace #healingjourney #DreamOfSanctuary #EmotionalWeight