when I was a kid
- Leituras 27
- Votos 1
- Capítulos 2
Though we don't look the same, the truth is that mentally, I'm still that same afraid little girl. My body has grown taller, my features sharper, but inside, I'm still grappling with the confusion and fear she felt. I'm haunted by the memories of not understanding what was happening to me, struggling to process emotions that felt too big and overwhelming for someone so small. The world around me has changed, but that girl remains trapped in my mind, still questioning, still uncertain, a fragile part of me that I can't seem to shake off. No matter how much time passes or how much I grow, that sense of fear lingers, reminding me of the innocence lost and the struggles that shaped me.
warnings: mention of SA/🍇, childhood trauma, sh, mention of suicidal thoughts, mention of eating disorders
Todos os Direitos Reservados
#172
personalthoughts
Junte-se a maior comunidade de histórias do mundoTenha recomendações personalizadas, guarde as suas histórias favoritas na sua biblioteca e comente e vote para expandir a sua comunidade.
Talvez você também goste
give me back my girlhood
Trigger warning for sexual assault, grooming, mental health issues and suicidal thoughts/attempts This is my vent book about my SA trauma, I use this as one of my coping mechanisms, to help other victims and to bring awareness.Concluída
BROKEN COURAGE (Lucas & Emilia Book 3)
While tortured and held captive as a prisoner of war, she became my reason to keep breathing. The force that fueled my will to fight. To survive. When I woke after the rescue to discover the life I thought I was coming home to was but a figment of my imagination, hallucinations brought about by pain, desperation, and isolation... it nearly broke me. Fifteen years since I first lost her, at last, we have a second chance. Holding her in my arms, finally feeling the warmth of her skin as she melts under my touch, is like a dream. She and her two little girls are now as essential to my existence as the air I breathe. However, just as things start falling into place, the universe steps in, threatening to take it all away. I used to think that choosing her cost me everything I'd ever loved, but now I see that in choosing her and her children, I have the chance to reclaim all that I lost. They are my salvation. My true path to redemption. Which is why I'll leave no stone unturned, why I will scorch this world to the ground if that's what it takes to save them. And when I do, I will fight to convince her once and for all they are meant to be mine, just as I was destined to be theirs. In the Broken Redemption Series, one man's vow to protect the woman he lost becomes a battle between redemption, forgiveness, and the kind of love that refuses to let go. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ This is Book 3 of Lucas & Emilia's Broken Redemption arc, the emotional conclusion to their story. For the full journey, start with Book 1: Broken Vows.Concluída
In The Shambles
Beyond every level of her mind knew something or someone had overstepped or overstayed their welcome. She thought of nothing else for the longest, she pondered, she contemplated, she thought and yet.....nothing, nothing made sense. Or did it? In the many days that passed, the poor and desolate young woman lost herself, regained herself, forgotten herself, remembered herself, starved herself, fed herself, formulated her existence and yet shattered herself; in what was an attempt to heal, such futility is frowned upon. Truth What was truth? Was it something she even had knowledge of anymore? Though she functioned on a seemingly normal level to the onlooking eyes of the world around her, little wisdom had they on the onslaught of her own mind against herself. Self...? What was the self to her anymore? And so again, she got lost.......lost in her own thoughts. Or memory.......Concluída
Icarus
Summary: This story is about an incredible unique autistic girl and her two equally incredible best friends. Will they ever get out of the friend zone? A little taste of the story: Is it a sin to love someone too much? To say I miss her is an understatement. I can't eat. Can't sleep. Can't function. She is constantly on my mind as she dwelled herself deep inside my heart. My heart aches for her. Every time I think of her, I smile but my heart hurts like hell because she lives far away. Too far. Sometimes all I can do is lie in bed and hope to fall asleep before I fall apart. Is it wrong to love someone this deeply at such an early age? I have inappropriate thoughts about her...about us. Not, as we are presently but grown up as adults. I'm jealous of my twin brother because he wants to take her from me. I can't let go of what's making me sad because its also the only thing that makes me happy. Her. I cannot lose her, because if I do, I will lose my best friend, my smile, my heart, my soul mate, my everything. If it is a sin, I don't think I want to be forgiven because I truly believe that God has sent her into my life to give me something to fight for, to show me there is love in this world, to give me hope and to bring me joy. All the proof I need in God is in her. She is a gift from heaven." ⚠️WARNING ⚠️ * language *drugs & alcohol * violence *assault & rape *nudity & sexConcluída
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*
𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐒 ✓
╰┈➤ ❝ [I stood there in unequivocal revelation, the lagging pain slowly catching up with me, but before I could release a fraction of the pain into my screaming, a bell rang, and suddenly, pilfered from my body was the ability to move. My face neutral and my muscles disabled as I fell face-first into the hard, scathing rock that lay unmoved before me.] 》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ * 。° 。 • ˚《 Imagine awakening in an environment you deemed unfamiliar, your back thrumming in pain, with your mind staying clear of how you ended up there or simply the moments that lead to your position. You try to find a way out and later realize that you can't even remember who you are; your memories purged, your identity unknown. It takes you a good amount of time, pain, and effort, and eventually you manage to gather tiny fragments of who you were along with the trauma of how you retrieved it, but it's okay, maybe it's all worth it as you finally make contact with another person. Turns out she was your best friend. Finally, it looks like all is turning up until you learn of all the inhumane things you've done in your past, things that evade your newfound morals, things that were so detrimental to society that when you hear the reason as to why you've been enduring such agony, you understand why. How many people did you even end up hurting? What did you do that was so bad, that it made millions wish the absolute worst of you? What will you do now?Concluída
WIshing Away Curve Balls
God only knows that we all have struggles. I battle a severe case of PTSD with dis-associative properties... Depression... I also fight various hallucinations that - I am sure if I give in- could be considered a form of schizophrenia. . We all reach a point of Rock bottom . We shatter, fall apart. My pieces are many, explicit at times, but it will begin to show you a day in my mind. I am not sure what to consider this, but it will begin to hopefully open your mind to how PTSD can be brought on, & how difficult it is for those who have to handle the ramifications of battling their mental disorder. -All rights reserved- Copyright@CrazyWildBeans: This is my first story-- please comment & give feed back. I am considering researching and writing in more detail about the subject matter of mental illness/ abuse and what it does in society.Concluída
The Girl with No Emotions
I was just thinking. I swear. But maybe my mind over thought. It's weird that everything can seem so simple, straight forward. Black and white. Two colors. So obvious. So there. Him and Her. Two people. So obvious. So there. But once you add gray, things get kind of complicated. Then you add color. And it's a wonderfully complicated bright world. She's two in one. The storm and the shade. No one ever stops to thank the storm for shading them from what's above it. What if the sun was too strong, too powerful that day and the storm came along just to protect us all from it? It was this epic battle between the two and the storm was hurting and it cased all this damage to the earth. No one thanks the storm for its sacrifice when it finally loses the battle and the sun shows its smug face. We all hate the storm for the disaster it created and praise the sun, when the storm just wanted to protect us. The storm and the shade. She's the storm and the shade. She's the chaos and the calm. Only I can't see the chaos. Not fully. She's keeping it all inside. All I see is the calm. I can tell though. I can tell there's chaos. I just can't see it. It's not so black and white. It's not a simple boy likes girl. Girl likes boy. It never was. But I like her. I do. The storm and the shade.Concluída
Trigger warning for sexual assault, grooming, mental health issues and suicidal thoughts/attempts This is my vent book about my SA trauma, I use this as one of my coping mechanisms, to help other victims and to bring awareness.
Mais detalhesDiretrizes de Conteúdo