truama

I have issues I live alone and yet in my head I hear words telling to leave that I am not welcome here for me to move I have mental illnesses and chronic pain which at times is sever pain i don’t know how to make myself feel welcome nor how to feel better inside and I dislike that so much that it hurts me .
And I’m not even sure why I felt like sharing that I assume it’s because I have no one to share it with , thanks for listening

I am not a fan of this. I only do this when I have no other choice, and other than the norm for me to have to go go I have to be really sick and no other options are available. #CPTSD #PTSD #Anxiety #ComplexPosttraumaticStressDisorder #truama

I wrote this poem during a moment of emotional exhaustion—when I felt invisible in my pain. I was hurting, but the people around me just watched. Sharing this is part of my healing, and maybe it will help someone else feel less alone too.

And You Watch

by Maria Davis

I carry despair and pain,

Wasted energy—

And you watch.

I walk in anger and loneliness,

And you watch.

I move through the day,

Waiting to be rescued—

And still, you watch.

I search the waters,

Hoping they’ve gone down,

But find only the lies of life—

And you watch.

Always watching,

Waiting for my next move.

Even when I slip

Into a place beyond repair—

You watch.

#mental health #Healing #Depression #emotional pain

#Anxiety #invisibl illness #Loneliness #truama

I feel like I’m carrying around a bucket. It’s been with me my whole life but it’s never been this full or heavy. My bucket is full of thick, sticky, tar from having a stroke when I was 24 years old. It’s full of heavy rocks from when I was told I couldn’t have children. It’s full of sand from when we were offered a baby to adopt but it fell through for us, but then my brother and sister in law were able to just raise their hands and take the baby home like it’s no big deal. It’s full of sharp metal guilt from being raised in an oppressive religion where I was told my only purpose in life is to be a mother.

I’m carrying this bucket around, one day at a time. I’m slowly taking out the heavy, traumatic things in my bucket. I’m not letting the people that fill my bucket with garbage get anywhere near me anymore. I’m ready to do whatever it takes to keep going, but I need to empty this bucket first. #truama #Stroke #Therapy