#Tw trauma dump
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Vent post. Untagged. Like, REALLY untagged. This isn't a fun post so it's totally fine to skip. This is literally a trauma dump in every sense of the word.
I feel the need to vomit. I feel as though this feeling is making me lightheaded and I feel the need to physically vomit. I am in a spiralâ kind of, mental, I don't want to type that. I don't feel very good. I don't feel good at all.
It really hurts. Like it genuinely really hurts how I want to speak on it or talk on it and then the bile rises. I feel the need to vomit. I'm not having an anxiety attack or anything. I just am.
It hurts feeling like you're not allowed to be upset about the things that happened to you. Even when the reality is so grim and obviously bad. Things like torture, things that caused many a breakdown.
I never out myself back together after the possibky psychotic breaks he caused. I never stopped. I still remember screaming at the bee, and sobbing outside, and digging up worms, and holding them in a jar.
A fly fell from the ceiling as I washed my hands today. It landed on my hands like confetti and I washed it away down the drain. And I remember how many thousands of them lined the walls of the old house. And I remember when my parents made me put my forehead on the cockroach-smeared wall.
I remember how he tried to kill himself in front of me and gleefully explained what my life would be like post grief and how happy he was that that I would know it's my fault for being bad (not cleaning properly). I remember how he forced me to [redacted] as punishment for trying to stop him from beating my siblings. Psychological torture. I remember the torture.
How am I supposed to do anything. And all the while their words keep ringing in my head, the invalidation woven into my fucking brain constantly the way he'd mock and laugh at me. I remember the look of glee on his face, I remember the way he moaned my name to mock me for being upset about him threatening to rape me.
What am I supposed to do. When i still live with this person. I hope to one day explode into confetti. I hope to one day get rid of all the rage and confusion in my . I don't want to type the words.
I don't feel good. I don't fucking feel good. I don't ever feel good and I know outside is beautiful. White clouds, fog, metal pipe curved like a cane above green tile rooftop outside my window. There are birds that nest there and they look like finches. And they carry straw, and I used to give them Mogwai's fur sheddings because prey animals love rabbit fur as insulation for their nests. Those birds have died and new birds have taken their place, Mogwai has died and I put his bed in a bag in the basement after his deathiversary last month.
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If I recall correctly, you said you had created alters, right? If so, I was wondering how it happened and how they're doing right now. I'm trying to do a bit of research on it to help out a specific alter in our system, but to no avail. We're trying to do this as safely as possible.
Right now, theyâre doing well, but when they first formed, it was horrific for them and us. Trauma was⌠not great! I think it might be time to expand on their stories actually. Too many people in syscourse assume they know things about my alters, and the last time I opened up about them, folks came into my inbox to tell me I was wrong about my experiences.
Tw for suicidal ideation, harassment, depression, and alter death.
Debra:
She was our first created alter, and the one we actually consciously purposefully created. In terms of us having a created alter, sheâs probably the one who counts â LEDâs experience is closer to a regular traumatic split, but Iâll get to him later.
Context for this time of my life: We were in high school. We had never heard of DID, we were being actively abused on two fronts (parental abuse and COCSA), and the only people who we felt understood us were folks much older than me online who I talked to on a daily basis. I thought my alters were just imaginary friends to represent my emotions. The voices I heard were just my emotions and feelings, very loudly, and I was imagining those emotions as people â like Inside Out!! And this was normal, my peer abuser told me. Yay! (Oof.)
Wade was our main fronter at home. He held onto a lot of our depression and dealt with the brunt of the current abuse from our parents. He was also dealing with gender issues and just generally was struggling. We started getting more and more suicidal and depressed, and our systems only way of handling that emotion was repression (via Numbâs emotional blocking or Sierraâs toxic optimism).
Finally, one night, Wade got the closest he ever got to self harm. It was nothing, really - the mark of it was gone within an hour - but it panicked him, and he reached out to our friend at the time.
This friend comforted him and told him that he needed to manage his depression somehow. We knew we couldnât get therapy, so he suggested something heâd heard of before, about parts therapy. AKA, IFS. âYour depression is a part of you. What you need to do is talk to it. Imagine a person; someone who is all of those depressing thoughts. And talk to that person; why do they treat you that way?â
Those arenât direct quotes. In all actuality, all of this is so blurry. I was so fucked up and stressed, itâs not hard to know I split. But the thing is, Debraâs split was entirely different than any other split Iâve had. All of my other alters, it was⌠one second theyâre not there, the next they are.
Debra didnât do that. When Wade imagined someone to talk to, it wasnât in our innerworld. It was in a different space, where we imagine our thoughts happening. Deb was entirely imaginary, and she seemed to say things as I thought them. Each negative thought I had was suddenly her saying them. (Sometimes, it seemed almost as if she would say the thought before I had it.) For every night for a week, they talked â though, it was more Debra talking and us listening and feeling worse about ourselves.
That first conversation, I remember Wade feeling better â empty, but not suicidal. After imagining Debra for that first time, Wade only felt non-suicidal if she was talking to him. Sometimes that didnât even help, because really, she was just imagined â we were planning her thoughts. Until, suddenly, we werenât anymore.
Side note: Deb is the first marked hallucination we have had. We were walking home from the bus stop, which was always inherently dissociative for us, and we looked over at our house. Out of the corner of our eyes, we saw Deb, floating around the cars parked on the road. We panicked at that, but a second later, she was gone. We believed magic was real for a solid day after that, and that our imagination was coming to real life.
After that week, Debra was autonomous. She started to slip out of the void and into our innerworld. She started to harass Wade in a living hell 24/7, instead of from 11pm to whenever Wade finally passed out at night. And she hated a lot of us. She expressed that we should all kill ourselves so she could take over, because she was so much better than the rest of us. It was around this time that Wade made his trauma room in our innerworld and ceased fronting as often.
It only ended when Numb, fed up with her and panicked from even him feeling the suicidal ideation, killed her. Protector killing the persecutor, how classic. He crushed her to death innerworld.
Deb didnât make a reappearance until college, when she emerged from dormancy. But in the meantime, there are two blank years of my life after we killed Debra. I have so few memories from those years, I could count them on my hands. Clearly, killing her destabilized us, but if we hadnât, I have no doubt I wouldnât be alive today. She was succeeding in her goals, and it sounded logical to us at the time. Weâve worked hard to make peace with what happened.
LED:
College. Weâre now self dxâd as having DID. Weâre no longer around our peer abuser, and in fact had âbroken upâ with her after she âcrossed a lineâ. I was now an hour away from my parents (though I had to call them each night and drive home each weekend). I was living with my then-roommate-now-fiancĂŠ and I was best friends with the only person in my life who knew I had DID, who lived in a different dorm. We were convinced Rice was a host by people online, and we were in pro-endo spaces (though had yet to strongly participate in syscoruse spaces).
Deb came back. At the time, I was in a nice Singlet Era Lite(tm) â aka, Rice fronted almost constantly, until she would collapse and meltdown and then we would rapid switch for the next few days, only for Rice to power back to front. It was unstable, unhealthy, and an incredible burden on Rice (one she is still recovering from to this day). Until, one night (at 3am), Rice was on the verge of a mental collapse again. She was down on herself, convinced she was a failure.
And then Deb was there, telling her she was, telling her how worthless she was, and altogether making everything harder.
That summer, Deb would take to harassing Rice, in particular. We had a flawed idea from the systems we spoke to that Rice was the âoriginal core identityâ and that the goal of DID healing was to integrate* those identities into one. She wanted Rice to feel out of control, so Deb could take over as host. If she could just become the original identity somehow, then we could fuse and just be perfect like her.
The best way she could think to make Rice no longer be in control? Make Rice split. Force a split, make Rice create someone, just like how weâd made Deb, and make Rice realize she was pathetic.
So, the nightly torture began. No sleep until 3am most nights, passive influence of suicidal ideation, near constant whispering about our mistakes. And, long story short, one night it worked.
Rice finally had enough, and completely went dormant in her room. And, in her place, was LED. Not visualized like Deb had been, but planned by Deb, and made specifically to counteract her. Debra is a being of darkness and shadow; LEDâs name is literally Light Emitting Diode. Debra is an ageless demon; LED is a 10 year old ray of sunshine.
Only⌠Debra came for him, said hello, and. Well. LED took one look at her, screamed so loud I thought it happened in real life, and shattered. Broke apart into a million pieces and went immediately dormant.
This shocked Debra enough to actually break through to her at least. Damage was done, though. A new split and two dormancies in one night. Deb retreated from the front and left everyone else to clean up the mess while she watched. Rice remained dormant for a few months, and would only come back for, at most, a few hours at a time before having a breakdown and leaving for, usually, around a half a year. LED didnât come back for almost a year after that. Debra had a âcome to Jesusâ talk with our friend who was in the know, and she started helping out some.
Now:
They get along really well! Itâs been years and years since those incidents. Deb feels guilt for what she did back then, but everyoneâs forgiven her â LED being one of the first. He actually apologized to her for being scared. Goddamn sweet guy.
Both of them have adapted to the system, but needed time to adjust. LED adjusted in dormancy, whereas Debra had to adjust after she returned from dormancy. It was⌠incredibly unstable for us after Debraâs creation. Our therapist cites that as part of the risk of IFS with DID systems, and how it can lead to increase dissociative barriers. It did for us.
We call both created, because there was purpose behind their splits. Debra was imagined consciously, purposefully, to hold trauma. LED was purposefully made (even if unplanned, visually and personality wise) to make Rice feel worthless (and instead made her feel stronger⌠after a year or so). We also distinctly call both of them created traumagenic alters.
Whew. That was a long one. Iâm gonna to rest after thatâŚ
#*Integration is used here as I heard it then (to mean fusion) even though I know that term means something different not#syscourse#created alters#trauma#tw trauma#trauma dump#Tw trauma dump#sui#sui ideation#depression#bluh tags#diamonds are a boy's best friend
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TAKE THAT MOM
guys hot uquiz was just discovered but I'm taking it about 100 yrs too late. anyways everyone share how wifeable you are.
THE WIFE RATING SCALE 1929
#context#tw trauma dump#was raised nearly cult style to be the perfect house/trophy wife#nearly got married off for my 16&17 birthdays#ended up being a butch tranny with an âattitude problemâ#<3
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Leaving an unsafe living situation tomorrow morning, and my stomach is in knots. Kinda feel like Iâm gonna throw up. The finish line is almost here, but it feels so far away.
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â ď¸ TRAUMA DUMP â ď¸
remembering that one time my brother told me that he hopes my boyfriend beats me and I get sold into sex trafficking 𼰠(the emoji is sarcastic)
#im so fucking mad at him rn#he ate most of the pizza and bread I bought for the family last night#he ate 27 of my 32 bread bites#im filled with rage#tw trauma#tw trauma dump#trauma dump#trauma dumping#vent#tw vent
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itâs october 7th. you hear about the attack by seeing people you followed glorifying the terrorist attackâa massacre, a pogromâas victory & justified resistance, glorifying a terrorist group that was founded with the explicit intent to kill your entire people
you make a post in which you make it clear you support palestinians and oppose the ways israel has wronged them, explaining that the terrorist group is still not good. you know you will probably get some flacc from the pro-Hamas side, but naively underestimate how much.
you get thousands of notifications on that one post, the majority of them hateful comments.
some of the response is positive. multiple messages thank you for the post, expressing bafflement that itâs controversial.
a few Israelis are upset at the loaded language in your post, but explain their problems with it civilly. you called Israel âapartheidâ. they ask you what apartheid laws Israel has. you admit you honestly donât know.
your inbox is flooded with anonymous hate from anti-Israel leftists.
over the course of a few weeks you have received hundreds of death threats, a dozen rape threats. people accuse you of being pro-genocide. youâre a literal Nazi. youâre racist, you thirst for the blood of Palestinians. youâre brainwashed by propaganda, a shill for The Zionist Entity. a few of the hate messages are from literal Neo-Nazis; the overwhelming majority are from leftists, many of them queer.
you are considering suicide.
you see footage of the october 7th attacks. you see footage of the bombings in gaza. you see footage of a Jewish man being murdered at an anti-Israel rally.
a popular creator you follow posts in support of an antisemitic hate group that masquerades as a Jewish organization. this organization regularly posts blood libel and other antisemitic rhetoric, works with groups that are even more explicitly antisemitic, including celebrating October 7th, holocaust inversion, blood libel, âKhazar theoryâ and others. more than one of the orgs they work with is pro-Putin.
your former roommate liked the post.
graffiti appears on a street you frequent that says â#freepalestineâ and âend settler colonialismâ
the boyfriend of the friend you spent most of the summer with makes his first post about the war. itâs a reposted comic that mocks and downplays the october 7th attack.
you doubt heâll be receptive to criticism. heâs shared leftist memes about âmonied elitesâ pulling all the strings and evangelicals being modern day âphariseesâ in the past, and getting him to understand why that was antisemitic was like herding cats. you try anyway.
another of his Jewish friends also pushes back. he smugly dismisses her, tells her sheâs falling for Zionist propaganda and uses several antisemitic tropes. you go off on him. he just deletes your comment.
you give up. youâre done. you block him.
you see anti-Israel posters and billboards around town
you mention what happened with the guy you went off on to his girlfriendâthe friend youâve grown very close to, who youâve been listening to as she unburdens her fears for the future and complains about her bfâs BS over the last year. she doesnât respond to you.
a friend of a friend shares posts tokenizing fringe groups that spread blood libel and have collaborated with holocaust deniers. you know they donât know what you know, so you explain what those groups are. they seem somewhat receptive, apologize, and take it down
the next day they share several more posts that dip into antisemitic tropes. you mention this to your mutual friend, that youâre worried about them being radicalized. youâre not sure how receptive theyâll be to continued criticism
you have a confrontation with the foaf. in the meantime theyâve shared even more antisemitic posts. they say they didnât mean to cause you distress but instead of stopping they effectively block you.
the âend settler colonialismâ vandalism has been counter-vandalized with the words âcommie propagandaâ in place of âsettler colonialismâ. you donât know if this is an improvement.
a month passes. the friend whose bf you went off on still hasnât spoken to you. you see she shared a post defending an SJP chapter that posted Nazi cartoon caricatures of Jews repurposed in âAnti-Zionistâ memes. you unfriend her on all social media platforms but you canât bring yourself to block her number.
you see a friend of someone whose couch you surfed when you were homeless harassing Jewish celebrities with âFree Palestineâ comments. you block them.
youâve lost count of how many people youâve unfollowed or blocked, or whoâve blocked you. friends, content creators.
when a friend takes an unusually long time to respond you worry if itâs because of your posts about antisemitism.
most of the podcasts, youtube channels, and other content creators you regularly engaged with no longer feel safe. you wonder who will be next
a couple friends wish you a happy hanukkah. you donât celebrate much aside from lighting the hanukkiah and making some latkes.
you see posts about a destroyed chabad menorah, antisemitic comments on Jewish celebritiesâ Hanukkah posts.
your neighborhood is covered in pro-Palestine & anti-Israel posters. some are seemingly innocuous, some are JVP ânot in our nameâ posters. some call for intifada. âglobalize the intifadaâ âZionists fuck off!â âsolidarity means attack!â
a man kills himself shouting âfree palestineâ. you learn about his suicide by seeing posts from several popular accounts you followed glorifying it.
you follow a bunch of jewish accounts on social media and commiserate with them about everything happening
your jewish friends post screenshots of the dead manâs antisemitic, pro-Hamas views. you look at his reddit and find even more horrific shit: anti-Ukraine posts. mocking Zelensky. âelitesâ are âlizard peopleâ; the only named individual he calls a lizard person is Jewish. you start to notice a pattern: a lot of the people he dislikes just so happen to be jews.
several people you know share a post glorifying this manâs suicide. most are acquaintances, one is someone incredibly important to you.
you wonder how they would respond to your suicide.
you tell the close friend that shared this post how it scares you. you show them the receipts of the manâs antisemitism. their response is a single sentence. they didnât know about the antisemitism.
they donât apologize.
you notice none of your irl friends, even your closest ones, interact with your posts about antisemitism. you are able to vent to a couple friends, but no one has reach out to you
you try not to read into it. you try not to take it personally.
you havenât slept well in months. youâve always been an insomniac but not like this. youâre not sleeping until 4am, 6am, even 9am. even when you get to bed at a decent hour and get a full nightâs rest it takes you hours to get out of bed.
a few weeks go by. the friend with the single sentence response shares a post saying theyâre excited and proud to join a group to help palestinians. youâre excited and proud for them.
a couple days later, they share a post about a fundraiser to help a palestinian family get out of gaza. you note to yourself this is a much more effective & less concerning form of activism than the pro-suicidal antisemite post.
your friend shares another post about the fundraiser. itâs a joint post between their group and another group.
you open the other groupâs page
the page is just a wall of signs from rallies. you swipe through one after another: âfrom the river to the seaâ, âby any means necessaryâ, justifying/denying the atrocities of october 7th, calling for violent revolution. anything done in the name of resistance canât be terrorism, all Israelis are terrorists. Jews arenât indigenous; theyâre white colonizers. holocaust inversion. other vile, thinly veiled violent rhetoric
you feel sick to your stomach imagining talking to your friend about it.
you already feel like youâre burdening the few friends you can talk to about this. you already feel like you think about it too much, talk about it too much. but you canât not think about it; it affects every aspect of your life.
youâve filtered out relevant keywords on more than one social media site to avoid the worst of it. some still manages to leak through.
there isnât a single friend you regularly interact with that you donât fear the moment when they will switch from listening to your concerns to seeing you as the evil zionist or indoctrinated hasbaranik theyâve been warned about.
itâs not an irrational fear. it keeps happening. you knew it would then, and you were powerless to do anything about it before, and you continue to be as it happens again and again.
you donât know what to do about any of it.
#idk just kinda wanted to document what this has been like all back to back#I know some of these on their own might come across as ânot that big of a deal but all together#they add up#tw for the all of it#cw trauma dump#antisemitism#i/p#tw suicide#tw suicidal ideation#tw death threats#tw rape threats#tw october 7th#tw terrorism
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Prev / Next / Beginning
Trigger Warning: Drug Use (Marijuana) / Discussion of death & loss / Transcript under the cut
Nancy: Are you going to tell me where weâre going?
Vanessa: Ever heard of savoring the moment? Basking in the adventure of the unknown?
Nancy: This sounds like a slasher film in the making.
Vanessa: Youâre no fun, but fine. Weâre going to my secret spot.
Nancy: Why are you taking me? What if I told someone about it?
Vanessa: You said youâre not a narc. Besides, we broke bread together.
Nancy: Oh, I see. I have dirt on you, so now you have dirt on me?
Vanessa: Wooow, Blondie! You have some serious trust issues.
Nancy: [mutters] Well. I donât know you all that well..
Vanessa: Iâm not mad. That makes sense. That just means I have to work extra hard to get you to trust me. I must warn you, Iâm annoyingly persistent.
Nancy: What?
Vanessa: Nothing!
Nancy: Ok, seriously. What are we doing here?
Vanessa: Looking for my stash...ah fuck! Did someone jack my- ah-ha! Here she is!
Nancy: Who?
Vanessa: [sings] Mary Jane, I love her just the same.
Nancy: You brought us all the way out here to smoke pot?
Vanessa: What, youâd rather do it in front of the nuns? Get in here.
Vanessa: So, whatâs your deal?
Nancy: My deal?
Vanessa: Yeah, like, why are you here? I doubt you saw a packet in the mail and thought, âIâd sure love to spend my senior year at a boring Catholic boarding schoolâ. Unless you heard about all the hot guys here, then that makes sense.
Nancy: Wasnât my idea.
Vanessa: Ok. So, what happened?
Nancy: [huffs] Well, if I talk about it then it never goes away, does it? Thatâs kind of the whole point.
Vanessa: [hums] Well, youâre in the right place, thatâs for sure.
Vanessa: [murmurs] All you have to do is pray, and it all goes away.
Nancy: Whatâs your story?
Vanessa: Not much of a story. I was raised in the church. Heir to my familyâs fortune. Blah blah blah. You know how it is, being a Landgraab and all.
Nancy: It wasnât always like that. My brother was supposed to be next in line, but he died when I was 4.
Vanessa: Fuck, Iâm sorry.
Nancy: Itâs- I barely remember him, so..
Vanessa: [after a beat] My mom died giving birth to me. My father says Iâll spend the rest of my life being great to atone for it. Thatâs actually all he says to me.
Nancy: I donât think my father knows he even has a daughter. I bet he doesnât know the color of my eyes- he hasnât looked me in them my whole life.
Vanessa: [laughs] What the fuck? We're really messed up, huh? You know, youâre not like any of the other girls here.
Nancy: Is that a bad thing?
Vanessa: No. Iâm not like any of them either.
Nancy: [coughs aggressively]
Vanessa: [laughs] Donât swallow it! We should head back before they start room checks. You do not want to catch Sister Anges in the halls after curfew.
Vanessa: [cackling] Move your ass, Landgraab!
Nancy: Shhh! Weâll get caught!
Sister Agnes: And where are you two coming from?
Nancy: We? Um. We...
Vanessa: From the greenhouse, Sister Agnes. I was just showing the new girl around. Nancy says she loves her some pot-
Nancy: -tted plants! Potted plants!
Sister Agnes: You should know the rules better than anyone, Ms. Villareal. No loitering in common areas without a chaperone. Up to bed now.
Nancy: Pot? Really?
Vanessa: I thought it would be funny!
Vanessa: Today was pretty fun. You should come hang out with us during rec. Dina and Nina are total bitches but theyâre funny.
Nancy: Sure. Yeah. Cool.
Vanessa: Cool. âNight Blondie.
Nancy: Goodnight...Red.
#the art of being seen#Part One- Youth#the landgraabs#sims 4 story#mini series#sims 4 simblr#sims 4 stories#ts4 simblr#ts4 story#tw drugs#tw trauma dumping#tw loss#nancy landgraab
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watched the gg trauma center letsplay a bit ago and it made me actually pick up the game for 13 bucks lmao
#goofy ass story i love it#ive been. so busy lately sorry for lack of art#tw death threats#the dump#trauma center#low tier nurse
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I donât know how to feel about this Eridan because reasons.
#eridan ampora#homestuck#homestuck fanart#how can I express to others the complexities of my sadness#without coming across as trite#or self important#itâs actually funny that I was drawing Eridan while I felt like that#that deep understanding of how unlikable youâre appearing to others#juxtaposed with an inability to stop yourself from continuing to be pathetic and ugly#you talk to so many people about the same thing over and over#feeling it bubble at the back of your throat like tar in every conversation#and youâll see it on their faces#the pity#the annoyance#you canât stop it from bubbling though#you canât stop yourself from spilling over#idk if this counts as trauma dumping#tw vent#just in case#I Guess
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My teacher traumadumped on me because he had just gotten out of an abusive marriage. Also, he was shirtless.
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one of the stupidest things iâve realized abt my life is that i walk on my tippy toes only to avoid making noise bc of childhood trauma/abuse⌠making any sort of noise led to a beating or something else and itâs so fucked up to realize this⌠i love that im so light footed and canât make a noise, but the reason makes me sick ???
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thank you for reaffirming to me that it makes other people really uncomfortable when you are feeling down and need support
I'm sorry Anonymous Individual, your card declined. It appears you've maxed out the balance. Would you like to try another?
#myfandomrealitea#sephiroth speaks#fandom#proship#reality#proshipping#girl help i said trauma dumping on strangers isn't a good thing and now they're coming for me with pitchforks#that one safe space post#safe spaces#tw: trauma discission#victim card declined sorry#alt text#described
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Tell me a thing about your childhood that isn't inherently super traumatic but is sus and kinda indicitive of the environment you grew up in.
I'll start, my childhood favorite movie series from when I was under five was the Final Destination series.
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Me: Hey look this load sticker says '9/11' haha
Boomer Coworker: Thats was a national tragedy [we're canadian] Millions died! [maybe check those numbers]
Me: Yea I know I watched it happen live when i was 14. It was during my english class 10 minutes after my bully pantsed me in front of the everyone. Then after school when I tried to tell me parents about it they pointed at the t.v. and told me to "get some perspective"
Boomer Coworker: jesus...
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I have to share a story about why I HATE the term "trauma dumping".
So basically, we were at my at the time partner's house with friends of them and we were talking about mental health.
I don't remember exactly how we came to this but one woman started talking about psychosis and her sister who is schizophrenic.
She had a lot of preconception about this and, while I am not schizophrenic, I dealt with psychosis and hallucinations.
So I started to talk about my experiences with that, stating AGAIN that I wasn't schizophrenic but I thought it was an interesting point of view.
Some other people started asking questions so I answered them, asking here and there if it was okay for me to talk about it, and nobody, INCLUDING the woman who started the conversation in the first place, said anything.
And at one point I saw she was uncomfortable and asked her if she'd rather drop the subject.
And then, she BLEW UP on me saying that I was trauma dumping, that she felt like she was partaking in a conversation she NEVER ASKED to partake in (again, she was the one who brought up the subject), that I was being insensitive and over sharing shit and that she didn't like it.
Like, bitch, I asked a bunch of time if it was okay, you were the one talking about these symptoms without even living it and trying to teach people some crappy over the counter shit, but now that she wasn't the Main Character with the Knowledge it became an issue and I was the problem.
I know that I'm open about my experiences and tend to talk about it but I ALWAYS make sure that people on the other end are okay with me sharing this. This was just utter bullshit.
And online or IRL, I just noticed that the term "trauma dumping" is just the easy way out of a conversation that makes you feel uncomfortable while putting the blame on the person doing it.
You can absolutely put boundaries, but don't you dare guilt someone just to avoid being seen as an asshole and make yourself clean of anything. It's healthy to state that you are uncomfortable talking about things, but you can do so without making up shit about others.
#tw psychosis#psychosis#discourse#actually mentally ill#mental illness#mental health#schizophrenia#psychosis mention#trauma dump#actually neurodivergent#neurodivergent things#neurodivergency#psychodivergency#psychiatry#tw hallucinations#tw delusion#delusion#delusional#actually traumatized#actually cptsd#actually did#actually bpd#actually psychotic#psychotic disorders#psychotic break#mental illness tw#cw mental illness#cw psychosis#cw schizo#schizospec
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Painting of my nameless angel character for a game I'm planning to release in the future. I really hope I get good enough to create it on my own. I just moved to the Netherlands to study game art and programming
#civilianangel#artists on tumblr#digital art#digital painting#digital illustration#digital drawing#concept art#illustration#starflesh#original art#original artwork#digital artwork#digital aritst#medibandpaint#character illustration#my artwok#my art#my art <3#my art stuff#art dump#digital art study#painting study#small artist#small art account#small art blog#artist support#religious art#religious trauma#tw religious themes#religious imagery
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