trauma
At its core, trauma can be thought of as the psychological wounds that persist, even when the physical ones are long gone.
The Sound of My Name in Other People’s Mouths
The Sound of My Name in Other People’s Mouths by [Numan writes] There’s a way my mother says my name that folds time. It carries the softness of early mornings and warm milk, the scent of jasmine from her shawl, and the quiet weight of lullabies hummed rather than sung. In her mouth, my name is a prayer—gentle, deliberate, each syllable laced with a kind of trembling care, like she’s still afraid to break me.
By Numan writes6 months ago in Psyche
I Was Surrounded by Men That Sexually Degraded Women. Content Warning.
There was something about him that gave me the ick. I was standing at his front door asking about the available spare room he had advertised, and even from that initial meeting, I had a strong sense he was imagining what I looked like underneath my clothes.
By Chantal Christie Weiss6 months ago in Psyche
So, Whose Responsibility is Burnout Anyway?
In today’s fast-paced, hyper-connected world, burnout has become a global catastrophe, silently eroding the foundations of our workforce and society at large. As we navigate the complexities of modern work life, a pressing question emerges: who bears the responsibility for combating this depressingly ever-worsening threat?
By Bianca Best6 months ago in Psyche
The Person I Pretended to Be Almost Erased Who I Truly Was
There’s a strange danger in pretending for too long. At first, it feels harmless—like slipping on a mask just to fit the occasion, adjusting your voice or your mannerisms to blend in, smoothing over your sharp edges so no one notices they’re there. But the longer you wear the mask, the harder it becomes to remember where the mask ends and where you begin.
By Azmat Roman ✨6 months ago in Psyche
I Was the Strong One Until It Broke Me
For as long as I can remember, people have seen me as “the strong one.” The dependable friend. The sibling who always listens. The co-worker who steps up when things fall apart. I carried that title like a badge of honor, proud that others trusted me, proud that I could be the one who held everyone together.
By Nadeem Shah 6 months ago in Psyche
The Girl Who Slept On A Newspaper
Anxious attachment is a thing we hear a lot about these days. Attachment theory is a buzzword bingo selection. Like narcissism and gaslighting. But the story of how I learned to chase avoidant men like a defective compass needle that only pointed toward storm systems is one in a million. And yet, the dynamic may be the most common model of all relationship issues today.
By Suburban_Disturbance6 months ago in Psyche
Chains of the Brothel: Part 7 Silent Walls
The Prison Disguised as a Home The place where Anita now lived was not a home. It was a forgotten prison pretending to be a sanctuary. The villagers called it the Old House, but its name was a cruel lie. It wasn’t a shelter for the elderly or a place of care. It was where society abandoned those it no longer wished to see—the “incurable,” the “dangerous,” the “inconvenient.”
By Shehzad Anjum6 months ago in Psyche
Good Luck Understanding This. Content Warning.
There’s a difference between surviving and actually living. Surviving is quiet, mostly invisible work. It’s holding yourself together just enough so the world doesn’t notice you’re cracking. But, of course, it comes with a cost. It settles quietly in the corners of your life no one sees - the pieces of yourself you give up just to remain present, and the relief that never quite comes. That’s a truth I’ve carried with me for years.
By Suzanne B.6 months ago in Psyche
