Writings

Tag: PTSD Page 2 of 5

Storyteller

Storyteller

They tell me I’m good at telling stories
but they don’t want to hear mine
it’s too dark
it’s too sad
it’s too scary
and they don’t want to think about it

They want me to tell them stories
but accounts need to be happy
tales need to be funny
a narrative which can be shared

“Tell me another story about your grandma,” they say.
Those are fun
those are nice
those make me think of my family
and not anything sad

They don’t want to hear my stories
of violence and anguish
they don’t want to hear my stories
of loneliness and torment
They don’t want to hear my stories
unless there’s a smile at the end

No one wants to hear descriptions
of potential snatched away
or chronicles of terror and screams,
suffering and tears

keep those stories to yourself
that’s for you to figure out
shoulders to cry on are rescinded
it’s too much for them to endure

I write my stories down on paper
for no one else to view
Everyone says they want to read them
but no one ever does

They say they want me to share my stories
but as soon as I open my mouth
the topic gets changed
keep that to yourself

Tears stain the paper as I go
memories I don’t want in my head
transferred to dead trees
but the visions live on just for me

They don’t want to hear my stories
of brutality and struggle
They don’t want to hear my stories
of solitude and sorrow
They don’t want to hear my stories
unless there’s a smile at the end

No one wants to hear
stories with terror, screams, and wails
of potential snatched away
or lamentations of what could have been

keep those stories to yourself
that’s for you to figure out
shoulders to cry on are retracted
it’s too much for them to bear
weeping should be kept solitary

Asleep or awake
my stories are continually shared
only with myself.
Everyone says I’m a good storyteller
but joy is all they want to hear
There is no desire to receive my speech

Their reticence serves to placate themselves
pat themselves on the back
with empty platitudes
thinking they provided guidance
and good deeds
while I process the images alone

I sit alone at home
putting horror and repugnance into words.
With my little blue book and black ink
I detail my stories
that no one will ever read

They don’t want to hear my stories
of trying to pick myself up again
They don’t want to hear my stories
unless it’s tied up neatly with a bow
They don’t want to hear my stories
unless there’s pleasantness at the end.

Nebraska’s LB626 would be devastating for women

I recently sent the letter pasted below to my state representative, Brian Hardin. The bill, LB626 passed through the committee, on which he sits, and will now go to the floor for debate.

If anyone wants to use what I wrote, please feel free. As readers of this blog know, this is an important subject matter for me, one in which I never thought I’d have to be fighting. It is 2,285 words long. Regardless of whether or not Hardin listens to me, or even reads my letter, I said my peace. I truly hope the bill fails.

Opening containers

When people work through traumatic events, their brains process what has happened so the person can begin healing from those events. While they are healing, the brain brings up intrusive thoughts, such as flashbacks and nightmares. The natural tendency is to push those intrusive thoughts away because they can be highly distressing. The brain’s ability to do this can be used to the person’s benefit, so that the intrusive thoughts and distress can be safely “contained” until the person is in a better situation to handle them.

It’s always with you

A few days ago, I was taking a break from writing and came across a post on Reddit. It has lingered in my mind for several days. User DmitriyBragin shared five before and after photos of what the war has done to his home in a post titled, “My hometown Kharkov in Ukraine 2022-2022.”

Of rage and despair and a right to speak

A small statue rests in a field in western Nebraska.

I sat behind my computer last Friday waiting for the latest installment of Supreme Court decisions. I do this regularly during each session to see what the court has ruled on.

I opened a tab to the Supreme Court website where decisions are posted, then opened another tab to the SCOTUSblog website, where a live text feed is available when decisions are handed down.

A good day

Tuesday morning was windy. It was so windy, I mentioned to Paul if I was still living in New York, I’d think a hurricane was coming, but this is western Nebraska, so it was just windier than usual. It would also turn out to be a good day.

Caught between two worlds

Londo patiently waits for kitty treats.

Sometimes, I wonder if what I write here is worthwhile and if anyone cares. Other times, I think, “this is my blog. I’ll write whatever I want,” but there is always a nagging thought at the back of my head wondering if what I do matters.

On a recent day out exploring northwest Nebraska, my friend and I were chatting and he told me he was thankful for the writing I do here. He does not have PTSD or experience depression. He said he was once the type of person who would wonder why people who are depressed don’t just snap out of it and get on with things, but through my writings, he has come to learn it isn’t so easy.

On September 28, 2021, I had a flashback. I wrote about it the next morning, but didn’t really know what to do with it until last night.

It’s complicated

Although I have two things written, I am choosing not to post either this week. I may not ever post them as they are far too angry for the world to see in their current form.

Altschmerz

Two days of birth collide

With a high of 88°F for the day, temperatures had settled into the mid-70s, promising a cool evening for the fourth of July fireworks. My mom, and technically me, were all set for the show. She settled into her lawn chair, a cool drink in hand when things began to change.

Page 2 of 5

Powered by WordPress & Theme by Anders Norén