Trauma is hell on earth. Trauma resolved is a gift from the gods.
Peter A. LevineTags: healing gift relief posttraumatic-stress-disorder trauma ptsd traumatized trauma-experiences traumatic-stress trauma-healing post-traumatic-stress-disorder traumatic-epiphonies posttraumatic-stress
The number seven is magical, they say. Seven years ’til our cells completely regenerate. Seven years ’til Jacob possesses Rachel, no, Leah, and seven more for Rachel. Seven days in a week. Post traumatic stress often resolves itself in toto only after seven full years have passed. Such is the case for some brain trauma patients too. Seven. It’s a number worth remembering.
Chila WoychikTags: pain post-traumatic-stress-disorder post-traumatic-stress seven-years
Support our troops!” we cry, but I say, “Love our veterans!” And when he neglects church, take him cookies anyway. Sing him a song. Pet his cat.
Chila WoychikTags: writing soldiers veterans post-traumatic-stress-disorder post-traumatic-stress
The unrelenting grip of Soldier’s Syndrome slips finger by slow finger. The marrow’s been affected—emotional leukemia at the deepest level. Transplants of love and friendship aid healing, yet time is still key, and the clock never ticks fast enough. Eternity gains perspective when seconds feel like years. How long have I been gone? Six eternities and counting.
Chila WoychikTags: pain healing soldier healing-the-past post-traumatic-stress-disorder post-traumatic-stress healing-abuse
The no-booze rule is one of several shams perpetuated by certain religious groups, presumably to keep their flocks in line. After all, what’s a shepherd to do with drunk sheep?
So take your medicine, but leave the booze on the shelf. We have a label to keep, and it’s not Jack Daniels. Don’t mourn for me. Just tell me what to do rather than teach me what to be. Slam another pill, pop that one last sedative…you’ll find me in the kitchen, washing my glass.
Tags: drinking booze religious-extremism post-traumatic-stress-disorder
I am Frustration. I am Memory-Lost. Sometimes I read a line a dozen times before it sticks. My creative force has slipped. I type slower, speak slower, think at a snail’s pace. I’m Life shapeshifted by Post Traumatic Stress, bastardized by Fate.
Chila WoychikTags: writing fate post-traumatic-stress-disorder post-traumatic-stress creative-losses
I’ve learned to lick
my own foul wounds
and prize the taste of ache.
Tags: pain poetry post-traumatic-stress-disorder post-traumatic-stress
God, O God, where art thou? Thou art as distant to me as the lady combing rice in the Yunnan Province of China or a piece of floating space debris circling Pegasi. In this feeling-dead world of post traumatic stress, skepticism is king, queen, and court jester.
Chila WoychikTags: pain skepticism post-traumatic-stress-disorder post-traumatic-stress
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