#tw: traumadump

[lokiinmediasideblog]

Randomly remembered that my very Catholic mom is an extreme Loki anti (my dad is more chill about media consumption and he said "Loki es chistoso" once). The Thor movie was on TV on Canal 5. And when Loki showed up with the horned helmet, my mom yelled at the fucking TV. I guess because horns=Devil.

And I feel like it makes me relate to Loki a lot because she would always compare me to Lucifer for not fitting an idealized image she had of myself, aka, "the best version of myself".

[devilboycomic]

Victim of Changes 🦠

[soupedepates]

Having a fucked up sibling relationship is like. I can't trust you. Mom wants us to be closer. I will fight for you because you're the child I once loved. I am moving across the country because I can't live with you under the same roof. You look up to me because I am the eldest child, and people used to compare us and put me on a pedestal. I can't shower when you're around. I don't feel safe when you're here. I know all your friends and they come to me for advice. You try to make up for what you've done by going against my will. You want me in your world. I push you out of mine, but I keep pretending you have a place here. Mom complains to me about you, how you scare her, how she wishes you were dead, how she loves you. You're in my nightmares. I see you everywhere. I don't answer your texts. I do your homework for you. I hate you. I love you. I feel guilty not to have a perfect relationship with you. I can't let you come close again. I can't sit next to you. You hate what I am, but you will fight for me. You hate that I am gone. You always leave before I go back to my place. We never spend more than an hour together. Mom tells me you seek me when I am away. My name is your first word. I want to give your name to someone I love. You're in my therapist's notes. I want to forget you. You're my nemesis. You're my second half. I celebrate your victories. I hope you die. I will cry at your funerals.

[circular-bircular]

Hey.

Whatever your trauma? It is valid.

“I only call out fakers who say shit like they formed a system cause their mommy took their gameboy away when they were a kid.”

I told my online friends that my parents yelled at me when I didn’t wash my hair properly. What I didn’t say was that it led directly to covert CSA. I told my in real life friends that my parents “would kill me” if I lost another water bottle. I didn’t tell them that my parents often lectured me for so long that I stood without feeling in my legs for multiple hours.

Just because someones experiences don’t sound traumatizing to you doesn’t mean they weren’t. Sometimes there’s more to the picture - or not. Sometimes, having parents that steal your shit or scream at you is traumatizing enough.

Fuck anyone who tries to trauma Olympics this fuckinf world.

[sugarnlips]

[teenybratt]

What was the youngest age where you actually started to enjoy cock going in you, assuming at first you didn't like it but grew to crave it? 🦝

I can’t remember exactly but. I think I was around 12 when I started to like that part of it. I was a lot younger when I started liking other things but actual penetration hurt a lot. I still associate penetration with fear though like I abso love being fucked but I still get that sinking feeling briefly when a guy goes to put it in.

[zeussim]

Ugh I am CONTINUING the traumadumping. But recently I went on a trip with my mom and aunt, and my mom bad a bit too much to drink and started talking about how awful my father is etc. and then she turned to and looked at me and said "you just run away" blaming me for leaving when my father was being a piece of shit, when all I've done for the past 10 yrs is stay, protect and put her first. And then she blamed me for the one time I left bc he yelled at me and I refused to stay under those circumstances. How selfish can a mother fucking be? I've endured him my whole life, I've always stayed with her when she's guilted me into staying no matter how uncomfortable and sick I felt. How dare she not acknowledge that? Because she is utterly incapable. She's a completely selfish being who can only think of how big a victim she is and how everybody ought to help her because she's so pitiful. And frankly, I am sick of it. I've always had to cater to her and never oppose her. When I was in treatment for depression and suicidal thoughts, who do you think played the victim-card and still does by talking about how hard it was sitting outside and waiting for me??? Ehm??? Mam? I was the one fucking dying. You were the one who ignored it when I told you I wasn't feeling well, and when I told you two years prior to discovering my depression at 14 that I had wanted to kill myself when I was 10, the only thing you said was "oh but then I would lose my daughter" and that was it. You didn't fucking use your brain to go "hmmm maybe my CHILD shouldn't be suicidal. Hmmm maybe she's telling me this bc she still is. Hmmm"

She's always been able to say whatever she wants to because she is the victim, while I have never been able to say anything to her because she is the victim. And every time I would dismiss her harshly after days of holding back, she would use it against me and blame me for being mean to her. I've always had to put her emotional needs before my own. Always. And she has never and will never see an issue with that. She may provide materialistic stuff but I would've rather had someone give me emotional support and space. Space to be who I was and am, and space to grow freely without being confined by her and her ideals. She really wanted children, yet she has never realised what being a mother actually is. It is unconditional love, and it is letting your child grow with plenty of nurture, never cutting them down when you don't like their growth but instead letting them grow into the amazing being, they're supposed to - even if that is different from what you're like. You cannot expect your children to be mini-me's. Children grow and become amazing, healthy beings with love and understanding, not restrictions and scolding.

[nightwatcherraph]

I shouldn’t be dreading looking at my own DMs because I dread seeing ranting in my DMs about how much of a horrible unsupportive friend I am because I refuse to answer to anymore self deprecation and self loathing of course emotional abuse. Because no matter what I say even if I say it’s not true I do care they will just get angrier and rant more at me and accuse me of saying something I didn’t.

Person: I hate that my hard work is ignored even you won’t read them. Why aren’t they good enough for you?

Me: I can’t rewire my brain to be interested in a fandom I am not in so don’t it personal that I don’t read your fics it has nothing to do with being good enough

Person: you always complain about being ignored why is it ok for you to take personally but not me!

Me: I did not say that so once again don’t take it personal

Person: I am a person to I have feelings so I ask again why is it ok for you be upset

Me: *stops responding because I am out of what to say that won’t make it worse*

Person: FINE IGNORE ME I WUSH I WAS DEAD WOULD THAT MAKE YOU HAPPY IF I DIE!?

Me: *goes to watch YouTube*

Person: great you are just going to ignore me now

Me: *trying to remain calm* no I just had nothing to say that wouldn’t make it worse

Person: do you aren’t going to try?

Me: *barely keeping it together* I did not say that I just said I had nothing to say

Person: I try for you! You barely said anything!

Me: *is on the verge of a panic attack signs off*

Person: this confirms it you hate me you rather I die you got your wish all my friends abandon me when I need them most *continues to spam my dms for 48 hours straight about I don’t care about them and how I want them gone*

Don’t fucking do this to your friends. If you spiral to the point you are emotionally abusing your friends then you need help.

[moonlit-imagines]

lacey catch a break challenge (level impossible)

[ghostscrown]

One of the many proofs that I had the Spider-Man / Danny Phantom childhood and I'm actually a superhero (CW for slight traumadump in a joking way I guess, because I was badly like BADLY bullied lol) :

When I was still going to school, some of my bullies had fun by shooting football (AKA soccer to be precise) balls at me, targeting my head, everytime they saw me – it was a common bullying technique at this school because if the bullied kid complained to a teacher, they could pretend it was just an accident and not be punished at all. It was to the point I became constantly aware of my surroundings so I could dodge the balls. I became so good at it I developed the reflex to put my hand in front of my face exactly at the right place just in time to stop the ball. The bullies were so flabbergasted they finally stopped when they realised they couldn't hurt me like that anymore (they had other ways but they stopped shooting balls at me, at least ?) I considered that as a flex for a big part of my childhood, saying I just had a spider-sense, because I just couldn't understand this was not normal lmfao

(Yeah, I was taking my constant bullying as a proof I was secretly Spider-Man / Danny Phantom depending on the hyperfixation – and it actually helped a lot tbh)

(And yeah I still have this skill, I'm still strangely good at stopping objects throwed at me lol)

(Also now that I think about it, this idea could even be in a fanfic prompt-)

(You could also argue I was trained to be a ninja B)))

[suwisuwii]

When my ex finally moved out I thought I wouldn't really see him again. Or just not very often. Now, I know he isn't going to move back in to live with me, just my daughter, but I have been anxious all day.

My daughter is coming back tomorrow, and he'll be staying at an airbnb or something until he finds a place.

The reason why I allowed my daughter to leave is because she was supposed to stay with his family, who would take proper care of her. That is no longer the case.

Now why didn't I offer to let him stay here too until he finds something?

I know the moment he sits down in my house, he won't leave.

(I'm going to be talking about some graphic details below, tw for death, murder, rape, suicide mention )

This guy tricked me into getting pregnant, following him to his country, and doing sex work for years. He never tried to find a job, he was perfectly happy with me working 24h a day, not seeing my daughter for weeks, just so I could afford him a work-free life. I had agreed to a few months of it while he looked for a job, and was now trapped in it without an end in sight.

When a client raped me and almost killed me, he said it was "part of the job".

On another occasion one of my coworkers was murdered and dismembered, and he showed no symphathy when he saw her on the news and I told him that was my friend.

(the killer is now in jail, I had met him once and I won't go into details but I survived because I made a scene and he left. I felt sick for a few days but it wasn't enough to kill me. He has been found guilty of 3 murders, and 7 attempts)

But I just kept on going and didn't feel human anymore.

At a point I was in therapy because I wanted to die. I wasn't even sad or upset, I just thought of myself as a disposable tool. I was soon to have enough money to buy a flat in cash, and I would buy that for him and my daughter, and then just die. I felt happy thinking about the time when I would finally be free and die.

The only reason I was able to stop, and wiggle out of that situation was because of the first covid lockdown. The whole country shut down for months, we literally were not allowed fo leave our house unless we were going to buy essentials (police asked for receipts). Initially I felt trapped, slowed down. I had to be alive a little longer.

Things changed when I made friends, even if online, for the first time in years. I started seeing myself as a person again and not a tool.

I broke up with him, and kept on mantaining him economically for years just because I felt obligated to. But I started making art again during that time and earning money for myself. When he left, I thought it was finally over.

I know I am realistically not in danger but as my partner said to me today, every time he calls I end up spiraling in a frenzy. I think it's the trauma.

In any case. I can't wait to have my daughter back. And whatever happens, I'll fight to keep my freedom.

I'm also very grateful for the partner I have now. I was in a bad mental state today, and he said that he will not let anything bad happen to me. It sounds like something simple but I know he means it. And I don't feel as scared if he's supporting me.

I know I can't lose my freedom now but damn every time I get so scared. I guess that's how trauma works. It's not rational.

[sentientsky]

In the place where the foundations shiver with the weight of every ghost you’ve laid to rest beneath the floorboards / In the liminal, staticky place where you were first made monstrous (made hollow and whimpering and fickle) / In the place that tore you lengthwise and emptied you onto the front porch, you learn to swallow back the rage, hold it captive and writhing in your gut. 

You learn your way around a set of teeth.

You learn the hackles-raised, jagged-mouthedness of a home without a scrap of heat. You learn how to pull each of your canines out by the bloodied pulp, all nerve endings and the blunted edges of grief.

You learn it because what other choice do you have? What’s the alternative, when all you’ve ever known is the dull scrape of your back against the wall, of your heart tearing clear through your chest?

And god, god, god (you pray to an empty sky). God, you’re so bitter and your bones are all galvanized under your skin, and it hurts. It fucking hurts. 

And yet you’d sooner turn your own snapping jaws on yourself than risk learning what happens to animals that misbehave.

So you make yourself small, you make yourself antiseptic and supplicating and placid. You domesticate every thrashing need to escape. You walk into a family dinner with darting yellow eyes: Cerberus with three heads, each maw zip-tied shut by your own hand. You show them the soft flesh of your underbelly—you show the whites of your eyes.

You bite back the terror, you choke on the wrath. Because what else is there to do? (inspired by this post from @actual-changeling. thanks for the gut-wrench, alex </3)

[vsrobotjulie]

wegg is such a me character. he's transgender!! he's vulgar!! he does drugs!!! he was worshipped by a cult that only wanted him for his body!!!! HES SO ME

[teenybratt]

whats your favorite trauma memory? What still makes you cum thinking about it?

The first time anyone put anything in my butt. The plug I mentioned earlier did it after beating me so my butt was seriously bruised and I guess he wanted to hurt to me as much as he could. I remember just being held down and screaming and trying to wriggle away. He only put a finger in and out a few times but it felt like he was trying to kill me then he just kinda threw me onto my bed and left. Idk why that memory makes me feral but it’s also the memory that makes me go “I have definitely turned all of my trauma into kinks” lol

[theshalesky]

memories are weird. all i can grasp is a vague feeling days not even tainted, just days i remember listening to music. the constant struggle not like a shadow, just a part of life what we know is our only reality. and why wouldn't i hate myself? i did think a lot about being broken. was i broken? no, of course not - i had never shattered. the world seemed clear, i had no doubts: me a small and fragile bird the others so much stronger. i was only real during the holidays. what happened inside my mind these days? locked away in stories maybe just enough curiosity to balance it all out i lived, hated myself, i loved existing. it bothers me not to know how dark my world actually was. my inner child won't tell me. memories are weird.

[nebulamist]

Okay Mom. Go on, keep yelling at me. I’ll kill myself and neither of us will have to deal with each other anymore. Will that make you happy?