Cptsd Stories

Michaela Valegrove documents her journey of healing through simplistic lyrical poetry that doesn't shy away from the truth. She is vague but confessional, holding space for the reader to take a seat and feel seen too.

a compilation of thoughts that cloud my messy brain

"Some wounds bleed. Others become the way we see ourselves."

As it says in the title, this is a collection of my memories and stories of my young life. **TRIGGER WARNING** This is not an easy tale to digest. Contains foul language,violence,sexual assault,parental abuse,substance abuse,mental illness,self-harm, suicidal thoughts,etc.. If these are things that will cause distress, please feel free to skip this story.

A collection of my writings, which are soaking through the pages, leaving stains behind, stains left for the observation of whoever's eyes are wandering across this text right now. The eyes that will hopefully read farther than this. Even if you decide you do not like what I write, how I write, how it makes you feel, the list goes on.. I thank you regardless for giving my work the time of day. And remember: It's okay to rot today. (And tomorrow)

Just doing a system intro.

What I write on dark nights and nights in my feelings please come take a look NO IMAGES ARE MIND THEY ALL CAME FROM GOOGLE!!!

sometimes harry is a scared baby, sometimes harry is a scared adult. oneshot! louis' pov throughout

this will be short stories of extreme metaphorical values depicting my experiences as a child who went through emotional abuse and complete mental anguish these stories may be complicated and it may be hard to see the metaphor, but thats ok. its just for me.

A research of self identity as Kate tries to understand who she is. Warning: Adult content included.

I strive to provide a safe space for open conversations about mental health. By sharing personal stories and experiences, I aim to break the stigma and raise awareness about the importance of mental well-being. I am dedicated to promoting mental health awareness through personal stories and insights. My goal is to create a community where individuals can share and learn from each other's experiences, ultimately fostering a more supportive and understanding society.

Trials, Tribulations & Violations

I'm stuck in my head and I'm not the only one-a Dissociative Identify Disorder story

The Flamingo Man goes through life unsure and unhappy. Afraid to be alive. In constant pain, he wonders what the point of all this is. Trigger Warning! Suicidal thoughts, depression An idea that's been in my head for a while.

" I can't let go of who I used to be so I carry her with me" What if you were given the chance to converse with your old self, what will you say to her? This is what I'm saying to the girl I still hold by my side and inside.

One Yakuza Guardian. He gave her a name, a weapon, and a life built on "Yes." One Childhood Ghost. He offers a past she can't remember and a safety she craves. One Obsessive Rival. He doesn't want her heart; he wants the power she holds. Alice was raised to be a Heiress, but her brain is a battlefield of C-PTSD and dissociative resets. She doesn't decide when to breathe; she waits for permission. She doesn't date; she "attaches." At Echelon Academy, the "Kings" are at war. They think they are playing for a throne, but they are playing with a live wire. As Alice oscillates between a worshipful doll and a lethal predator, the world is about to learn that the most dangerous thing in the room isn't the boys with the money-it's the girl who doesn't even know her own name.

A life that Pavel experiences UHH- SORRY FOR THE DISCONTINUE OF THIS! IVE BEEN HEAVILY INTO FORSAKEN-

Essa ≠ Esa

And you, my lover, or should I say my forgotten. My nuisance, my migraine, my nightly night terrors. You haunt me in my sleep, in my dreams, and even in my mind you haunt. I must purge you, and purify myself as you have rotten me to my very core. I am not myself, and I am afraid I even forgot who I am as I was lost within you. - Slow updates - Poetry collection - Work in progress

I'm being so serious. I hate them all. I think this year I realized that everything is fake. Love is a concept. Family is a word made up by people (fuckers) to make you feel like they mean something to people who use you. Oh and my family they gonna use ME! I HATE MY FUCKING FAMILY. Oh- with every fiber of my being. Until I feel broken. Until I am on the verge of offing myself. I will always be better then them. I have bpd. I am always on my godly time though. It's not a fucking phase, I am better and will always be better. Period. Fuck you, bye.