Diary of a Dysphoric
- Reads 46
- Votes 3
- Parts 2
By the time people reach 70, many enjoy telling nostalgic stories, sharing memories, and offering advice for others to follow. But my advice is different-don't look back. Every breath I take reminds me of everything that was stolen from me during World War II: my family, my pride as a Jewish woman, and the dreams I once had. People often ask why I've stayed silent for 60 years. The truth is, the memories of the war haunt me, making it hard to even speak without feeling panic and despair. I'm weighed down by memories that refuse to fade. Some might say I'm lucky to have survived such horrors, but I find no peace. In my mind, I still dream of finding someone who understands the depth of my pain. Until that happens, life feels empty, a constant reminder of what I've lost.
All Rights Reserved
Join the largest storytelling communityGet personalized story recommendations, save your favourites to your library, and comment and vote to grow your community.
You may also like
The Days I Remember
When I was little I never thought this would happen. I never thought I would be here but here I am with tattoo number on my arm. I can't escape, I can't see them again, I'm here, and nobody will save me or the people I am with. There are many of us, I can't even tell you how many people are here but I know it's past the thousand mark. We are here because of one thing, we are different. In their eyes different is bad. I guess it is, well it seems like it is but it's really not. See this one guy had this plan. This plan was to destroy a group of people who didn't believe in what he believed. He put it in people's mind that these people were not even human just animals and that we needed to be taught a lesson. Because we were different that was the problem. My name is Holly Amelia Cohen and this is my story. This story is now publish and you can buy it if you want (http://www.amazon.com/dp/1494393867/ref=cm_sw_r_tw_dp_xP-Psb0ES7QX416T )Complete
It's Okay to Use Your Big Girl Voice
Inside you will find a mixture of both, extremely RAW and refreshingly HEALING accounts of my personal war with my past. Unfortunately, Childhood sexual abuse is far too common, and many of share similar experiences. Looking back, what I could have used more than anything was someone to tell me "You're not alone, there is a lightness through the darkness, you can heal from this and most importantly don't EVER stop telling your story to make others comfortable". I've learned that silence is the best weapon for a predator, and I for one, have never been really good at doing what I'm told. I don't intend on starting now. I wear my scar as reminder that I hold the power in my own story, it is mine to tell and I won't make myself sick keeping quiet because my truths are hard to swallow, other people's comfort is not my problem. My Goal is rather simple, to let the readers know, they too are not alone. If you are a survivor, even if you still feel like a victim, this is my personal message to you. "You are strong, and it wasn't your fault. Tell someone... tell anyone...tell everyone... We shift from victims to survivors when we speak up and tell our stories. There's nothing wrong with you, and the light will shine again. The longer you sit in silence the more power your abuser still holds over you, wipe your face warrior, because there's a lion right inside of you, DONT EVER GIVE UP!" *This story is FULL of TRIGGERS, please be careful reading if triggers are hard for you, your mental health matters* *I own all the Rights to all parts of this book*
The One Who Stole the Sky
*COMPLETED* "Liesel, what's the matter?" Max's concern was that of a mother's, so flat, but so serious. "Max, there is no one to thank left." Liesel changed her view to peer at the dusty floor. She missed Max's countenance gaping mouth and large eyes afflicted by her words. Not only had Max stolen the sky, he stole Liesel's heart too. Now, in Post-WWII Germany, the Allies have brought relief. Life is just beginning to come out of hiding, ready to blossom and flourish as it once did before. No one no longer cowers in fear. But something stirs in Russia: Communism. How will a Jew and innocent German girl make it safely in this ever-changing world that is right out their door? NOTE: This is after The Book Thief story (sequel if you will), so there are some spoilers if you haven't seen/read anything about it. However, if you don't care about the movie/book/spoilers, then it still makes for an eye opening, post-WWII fan fiction. Personally, I feel this is my best piece of writing I've ever shared on Wattpad. I hope everyone enjoys! NOTE: I DO NOT own any of the characters or the cover picture!Complete
On Our Darkest Days
When you find love, sometimes you just know. But, what if you're not allowed to know? What if you're not allowed to love? What happens when you know that being together would mean the death of both of you, literally? Do you fight for a way to love freely, or do you hide your emotions to save the life of the one you love, even if it's only one day at a time?Complete
Evolution
There are a lot of things you don't really think about until they happen to you. Take rape, for instance. I always thought, "That won't happen to me. I have a boyfriend. I trust him. He would never take advantage of me like that..." I couldn't have been more wrong. Love in this day and age is often confused for manipulation and abuse. The warning signs are here. The things we say will tell us everything that is wrong. You are worth more than what you think you are. It's not your fault. If they tell you otherwise, get out. Burn the bridge. Always remember someone is waiting for you to walk into their life. Someone needs you. Someone loves you. Getting away from all of the wrong people and finding the right ones could save you. I can promise you right now that it saved me. These are the journal entries and selected poems from my first experience of love that left a unpleasant taste in my mouth- quite literally. I am putting this out for the whole world to see because I hope everyone will learn from my experience. People can see. We have no excuses to continue living our lives in ignorance. ...WARNING... HARMFUL THEMES INCLUDING MENTION OF SUICIDE, SELF HARM, AND RAPE. THIS HAS EXPLICIT CONTENT. RECOVERY AND AWARENESS IS THE PURPOSE OF SHARING. DO NOT READ IF THESE THEMES ARE OFFENSIVE OR HARMFUL TO YOU.Complete
Family Comes First
Being alone? Check. Being afraid? Check. Being abused? Check times 3. Honestly, my life wasn't this bad before, not until I ended in foster care... SIKE! My life was always bad. From the moment I was born, I lived with an abusive father who blamed me for my mother's death, and even I couldn't disagree with him. Here are a few questions I am constantly asked: 'Do I do well in school?' No, are you kidding me? The only subject I'm good at is Visual Arts. 'Do I have a kind and caring family?' No, I don't think I do. 'Do I have anyone who cares about me?' No, I'm a loner and socially awkward. 'Do I have privileges?' No, if you haven't understood the message yet, I live in an abusive household. Now, you might ask if there are any questions the answer is yes. I'll give you some. 'Do I want to die?' Yes, I sometimes do. 'Do I feel alone in this world?' Yes, always. 'Do I get a beating every day?' Yes. *** This is Amara Williams, a 13 year-old with average grades and no friends. What happens when her only guardian, her dad, is dead? What happens when she finds out that she has five older brothers who are not only strict and demanding, but also protective assholes? More importantly, what happens when she finds out that she was taught lies from the moment she was born? Follow Amara as she digs deeper into her family history, uncovering the secrets and discovering the lies. ___ ⚠️ Trigger Warning ⚠️ There will be mentions of abuse, r@pe, self harm, death, and many other dark themes. I have given a warning now, and I will give a TW in each chapter when reading for safety reasons. However, I want all of my readers to know what to expect so that they can decided for themselves if they want to read. Read at your own discretion! ____ Highest Rankings: #1 in Rules: Oct. 18. 2020 #1 in Truth: Jan. 16. 2021 #1 in Alcohol: Jun. 18. 2021Complete
Running Screaming
For 25 year old Amara Danvers, her life had gone to hell. She was stuck in an abusive relationship with a man who she loved but no longer wanted to be with. Trapped in a state far away from her family, no one to rely on. Her boyfriend's family shunned and ostracized her, looked the other way as she was repeatedly abused... Can life go on like this? What happens when everything... Even the tables change in a single night? "I don't want to live like this anymore!" "Then don't live. No one will ever love you." "Please! Stop hurting me! What did I do to deserve this?" "Ask yourself that... No one wants you. You deserve this. You'll never find anyone better." When the wheels stop spinning and everything goes dark.... "GET RID OF IT!" "STOP YOU'RE HURTING ME!" Will she have the strength to survive? To walk away? This is NOT a work of fiction. This is Real. This happened. This happened specifically to me. I am just telling my story. Names have been changed. Warning ⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️ This story depicts: Abuse Depression Trauma Recovery Unplanned Pregnancy Self Harm PTSD Mature themes Domestic Violence Please, if any of this is triggering, this is not for you. This is going to be very deep, depicting heavy trauma and I would rather you not read it if it is counterproductive to your mental health! If you are going through ANY of this, please contact your local domestic abuse hotline OR pm me and I will try to find you help.Complete
Look What You Made Me Do
"Don't tell anybody about this." "If you just ignore it, it'll stop." "There's nothing I can do to help you." And so I did everything I was told. I shut up. I put on a brave face. I followed all the rules. But that was the past and it's not who I am anymore. I will be loud. I will be angry. I will tell the truth. Look what you've done. You gave me a story to tell. ----------------- Unfortunately, a true story. DISCLAIMER: This is my side of the story and, with the exception of a few voicemails/text messages/statements from friends, it all comes straight from my memory. As is the case with most PTSD brains, my memory isn't very good so I can't 100% confirm the accuracy of anything, but it is written almost exactly as I remember it. If anyone reading this happens to know something I don't, feel free to let me know. ----------------- Thank you for reading. ----------------- Dedicated to Sketch, and Toto, and Dr. Worm, and Mia, and anyone else (real or imaginary) that I loved, but they hated.Complete
Cold Water
[BWWM] I was only twelve years old when the world turned cold. The day my mom died in that car accident, I felt like someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over my heart. My dad, who had always been my hero, suddenly became a stranger, filled with rage and blame. He couldn't see that I was hurting, too; he only saw me as a reminder of his loss. The accusations cut deep. He said it was my fault for being there, for not doing something to save her. For being the reason she was in the car in the first place. In the years that followed, things only got worse. The abuse started gradually-a harsh word here, a shove there-but it escalated, leaving scars that I carried long after the physical pain faded. I was drowning in my own despair, struggling to keep my head above water while my father's anger raged like a storm around me. I only had a break from his anger when I started living with Aunt Dina-my mom's older sister. Well, that was because she found me nearly dead on my bed after I took a dozen pills. I was tired of living. I had hit rock bottom. The harsh whispers that followed me around and the stares at school. I pretended not to notice, like it didn't bother me. But it did. I was alone. Then came Athalia, a ray of sunshine cutting through my darkness. With her, I felt something I hadn't felt in years-happiness. She became my light through the darkness and my lifeline. ••••••••••• ● Warnings ⚠️ ~ Mention of suicide ~ Anxiety attacks ~ Rape attempt ~ Mention of self-harm ~ DepressionComplete
Someone New ✓
"There comes a point where you no longer care if there's a light at the end of the tunnel or not. You're just sick of the tunnel." - Who I am doesn't matter. How I got here doesn't matter. What matters now is I'm getting help, right? That's what they tell me here. They tell me that the road to recovery feels like a terrible butt fuck, but the fact that you're on the path to begin with, is all that matters. So as I sit in this circle of fuck ups, I realize just how different I am from them. I didn't attempt suicide because my mother was a crack addict who didn't want me. My father wasn't abusive. I didn't have a sibling die in a car accident. I was never really bullied either. I attempted suicide because, for the first time in years, I thought I had found something that could make me feel again... and after not feeling much at all for far too long, perhaps I went a bit overboardComplete
When I was little I never thought this would happen. I never thought I would be here but here I am with tattoo number on my arm. I can't escape, I can't see them again, I'm here, and nobody will save me or the people I am with. There are many of us, I can't even tell you how many people are here but I know it's past the thousand mark. We are here because of one thing, we are different. In their eyes different is bad. I guess it is, well it seems like it is but it's really not. See this one guy had this plan. This plan was to destroy a group of people who didn't believe in what he believed. He put it in people's mind that these people were not even human just animals and that we needed to be taught a lesson. Because we were different that was the problem. My name is Holly Amelia Cohen and this is my story. This story is now publish and you can buy it if you want (http://www.amazon.com/dp/1494393867/ref=cm_sw_r_tw_dp_xP-Psb0ES7QX416T )
More detailsContent Guidelines