Writingtherapy Stories

A collection of poetic short stories written about the struggle of living with trauma.

A quiet poetry collection about repetition, uncertainty, and the spaces where meaning softens rather than disappears. From familiar circles to fading paths, unnamed feelings, and distant echoes, these poems listen instead of rushing toward answers. For anyone learning how to stay with what lingers.

Random thoughts about, yes, my first heterosexual crush.

Just a random person on the internet talking about my problems like any other totally mentally stable person would do.

Some nights, the world disappears, and all that's left is the storm inside. My body moves before my mind can catch up. My hands shake. My chest tightens. My heart races. Thoughts spin faster than I can follow. Panic creeps through every limb, uninvited and unstoppable, dragging me into chaos I cannot control. I've warned those around me - "Don't give me anything that will stimulate me. I can't handle it. I might spiral. I might have multiple panic attacks at once." But even with warnings, the storm hits. Shaking begins. Breathing becomes a battle. Blackouts arrive without mercy. Voices distort. Faces blur. Time warps. And yet, in that fractured reality, I survive. Minute by minute. Hour by hour. This is not just anxiety. This is living with panic attacks, blackouts, trauma, and the consequences of a body and mind pushed beyond their limits. Every detail matters: the trembling, the words that slip out in other languages, the silent narrating I do just to stay present, the grounding rituals that pull me back from vanishing entirely. I write because someone else might be trapped in their own storm and need to know they are not alone. I write because survival isn't always loud, and strength isn't always visible. I write to show that even when panic steals control, when the body moves faster than the mind, and when fear screams louder than reason, there is a way back - there is a way to breathe again, to be here, to keep going. This is my journey. My voice. My truth. The storm is inside me, but I am still alive.

Putting my writing as a therapy to overcome the difficulties of living.

Just a bunch of poetry that i'm writing for battle against my depression.

*UNEDITED* An essay about young love and the impacts it could have on the human mind.

"A heartfelt poem about the power of writing to capture unspoken truths, heal emotional wounds, and preserve moments of connection. Through ink and paper, emotions find a voice, and the quiet spaces between people are filled with understanding and reflection."

Heyo. So this is a collection of poems that I wrote. Just a heads up, most of them are pretty sad. I tend to write poems as a sort of therapy to get big emotions off of my chest.

sometimes you just have to let go. this is me doing just that. ©2016, americana x

ask my therapist !

poems / deep Thoughts , mini stories and reflections.

Just a little disclaimer I'm going to be writing these to get things out of my head a little more So this does mean it will have more depressing little stories and such so please be careful reading these if you're you're easily triggered Thank you for reading ❤

"Writing is a form of therapy; sometimes I wonder how all those who do not write, compose or paint can manage to escape the madness, melancholia, the panic and fear which is inherent in a human situation." - Graham Greene In my personal writings, I've chosen to pour out my emotions. processing emotions, aligning thoughts could be quite challenging. So, I am filling the void with words, hoping they resonate with those who share similar unspoken thoughts.

I don't write to be seen. I write to be free. When the heart feels too heavy, when silence becomes too loud, I turn to words. This poem is about writing not for fame - but for healing, for expression, and for finding the voice within my soul.

A collection of poems that I have written in the past. More like an attempt at writing poetry.

The Making Of Medusa's Mystic is a memoir following the life of Salem, a witch with a treacherous past. A byproduct of rape, Salem was born unwanted to a rapist father and narcissist mother. Salem soon became a victim to abuse in every aspect of life. Salem was forced into familial sex trafficking by their father, drugged, raped, and recorded each and every day. Salem was soon taught they were not worthy of love. They were simply worth $150 an hour. After Salem escaped their father's abuse, they were left with their mother, a survivor as well, who vowed to forget everything and encouraged Salem to do the same. But through countless attempts to erase the memories, they were still there. Salem soon became a sufferer of C-PTSD, as well as a plethora of other mental illnesses. Trauma led Salem to fall victim to abusive relationships, drug addiction, perfectionism, panic attacks, self harm, suicidal ideation, nightmares, burnout, and a chronically negative self image. After years of grappling with the past and foraging for happiness, Salem found solace and healing through witchcraft. Connecting with the story of Medusa, their inner occultist was ignited. This led to them healing their inner child, and finding peace within themselves. Salem is now on the road to recovery. It has been a hellish process, but thanks to their craft, their supportive fiancé, countless therapists, their coven, and their close friends, Salem is now on the ever-so-bumpy road to recovery. My name is Salem Aurora. This is my story. I hope I can inspire survivors like myself to find themselves and heal their pains. Your past does not define you, but molds you into the individual you become. As above, so below. As within, so without. As the universe, so the soul. Blessed be.

Samson has always been alone, trapped in a world that doesn't understand him. Music is his only escape, and writing is the only way he can give voice to the feelings he can't speak aloud. Inspired by Juice WRLD's Already Dead and Wishing Well, this is the story of a boy navigating darkness, loneliness, and the fragile thread of hope-only to realize that some battles are fought alone, and some hearts remain untouched by the world.