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#therapy helps
kill-4-kat · 4 months
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If you're going through something, just know there are many people in your life that like you and you might just not know it yet. You can make it, love you🩷💐
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Heres a cute photo of Kirby. (´・∀・) ♡
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soulinkpoetry · 4 months
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My back was breaking for so long for carrying the weight of my parents sins, until I learned that it was not my weight to carry.
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@soulinkpoetry
#therapy helps
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mattsmemes · 2 months
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come1nalone · 8 months
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zippyzstuff · 2 years
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theknightofsolitude · 11 months
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when i’m healed…. i’m gonna love so fucking hard.
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midnightsecfan · 1 year
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owned by RACHEL SMYTHE
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How long have you held on to a resentment? This last month I found a resentment that is 36 years held. It’s still so strong, it still holds so much emotion.
I’m angry over something someone didn’t do. A promise not kept. Something that was part of my lifetime dream, that I can’t ever have. Why can’t I have it? Because I chose a different path. I chose a better path. My life is better now and I know it. But why? Why am I still holding on so tight to this? I wouldn’t trade my life for that missed opportunity if it came with a zillion dollars.
But here I am holding on to this hurt, all this anger, and I can’t escape it. I’ve tried to let it go. Tell myself that it doesn’t matter. Because it just doesn’t.
As I keep trying to let this go, I keep coming back to “but damn it I deserved that!” It’s like I felt this unkept promise was payment for all the BS that the promise maker put me through. Well, let’s call it was it really was, not BS, abuse, old fashioned emotional abuse.
So, I told my ‘new’ therapist about it. They pointed out quite quickly that this resentment isn’t resentment, it’s the result of trauma, 36 year old trauma that I’ve been told over and over to just let go. So I guess another session of EMDR is necessary. At least at this point I know it works.
Remember, if the steps don’t work for something there are other resources. You can get better.
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selfhealingmoments · 9 months
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goodwomanbadlady · 8 days
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CW: this post vaguely describes both physical and verbal abuse.
It strikes me that while I endured both physical and emotional abuse growing up, the emotional abuse is so much more traumatic. Cutting without knives.
I can get over, or at least not dwell on, the beatings and even the attempted murder. After years of therapy, I don't think about them very often, or even the perpetrators. But the verbal abuse.... that's with me constantly. I'm not intelligent, I'm not good enough, I'm ugly, I'm incapable, etc. In my head, I know these things aren't true, but my heart still hurts with it. I still feel fearful at every new interaction and almost paralyzed with them at any job interview.
This is why those posts discussing non-judgement ring so painfully true to me. We truly never know what scars people carry on the inside. Cutting without knives doesn't leave visible scars.
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thedorkasaurus · 6 months
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Being Hispanic and from a religious family, therapy is taboo…
I’ve been going a month and man have I learned a lot! But navigating the spiritual side of it has been a doozy 🫠
If I stay alone with my thoughts too long, I cry…
I have an appointment today, Monday, and I think this time, I definitely won’t wear makeup… I just know I’m going to cry a lot…
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alexggnaw · 6 months
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I’m starting to accept that it’s a life long type of thing.
That doesn’t mean I can’t grow and change with it
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thinkingofmikey · 6 months
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There's a dark pit in me. Sometimes, it feels like a black hole, like a force of nature that has intense gravity, threatening to swallow anything that comes close, thoughts, light, me. That I'll be trapped in its darkness, lost. That me, whatever me is, won't be able to escape, and I'll just be the darkness instead.
It feels empty, like a void, like a hole that goes down and on forever, bottomless. That no amount of throwing things in there will ever fill it up. Sometimes it feels like an echo, like thoughts get close to it and get distorted, bouncing back to me all different and wrong. It's the source of all those terrible fears, maybe it is fear, or loneliness. It's self-loathing and self-hated. Unkindness. It spawns every dark narrative whispered when things are too much or too hard: "you're not good enough" "you'll never be good enough". "No one will ever love you", "you are unlovable". "You have done terrible things" "you are unforgivable". "Even the people who should have loved you unconditionally beat you, neglected you, turned your own blood against you, cast you out". "You deserved it", "it was your fault". "I wouldn't hit you if you were a good girl".
The fear of the fear gives it gravity, turns it from a void to a black hole, the fear of getting close to it pulls you in against your will. Sitting quietly near it, feeling it hollow out my chest, push a lump into my throat and air from my lungs, makes it both overwhelming and manageable. Reminds me that it doesn't have gravity per say, that it won't pull me in.
Trying to avoid it distorts life, too. Takes energy and vitality away from living, just to try and put a railing around it. Trying to avoid it curves every path such that they always end up next to it, and usually when you least expect it. A stray thought and you're right next to it, with its echos in the dark, telling you what a piece of shit you still are.
In therapy today, I sat near it. Breathing. Not letting panic creep in. Sat near it and didn't try to push it away or lock it up somewhere. Sat near it, saying nothing, so there were no unkind echos. Sat near it, and felt the space get a little larger.
Trauma is exhausting, a constant battle under the surface, against yourself, against the dark. Most of the time, these days, I feel like I'm winning, like I have more resources and tools to cope, to be kind and effective, to not believe the echos.
But watching Good Omens has shaken some things loose, rattled them around. When Crowley says, "Unforgivable, that's what I am", the void screams, "me too! I, too, am unlovable! Cast out! My creators didn't care for me, either!" Trauma is lonely, at its core, isolating. Having a mirror held up to it has been good... but hard.
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It looks like I have a lot of sitting next to a dark pit, not falling in, and just breathing, in my future.
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moderndaycassandra · 7 months
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I Really Like Going to Therapy
Sometimes I go there and we talk about recent emotions for half an hour, then chat about random stuff for ten minutes. Other times he pulls out some new therapy technique I've never heard of that reveals a deeply repressed trauma I never knew I had and I become an incomprehensible ball of tears for forty minutes until I can finally choke back the emotion and say some stupidly profound metaphor for my condition.
Today I found out that I'm so romantically desperate because I'm exhausted from decades of self-censorship. I am a ball of clay, perfectly spherical with no molding whatsoever. Every social circle has a mold you have to fit through, or it will slice you to shape. My ball of clay has been molded and sliced so many times that it has become a shape beyond description and bears no resemblance to its original state. I just want to find someone I can be myself with, no slicing or damage from squashing and stretching to fit a mold.
I just want to be a sphere.
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epitomeofreal81 · 10 months
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lovelyspooks · 3 months
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Me looking at myself in the mirror at 3am after reading smut for 4 hours straight instead of sleeping:
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