
Abuse and trauma survivor - these are my stories in no particular order. Content warnings and triggers everywhere. Adult blog; 18+ only.
794 posts
Hi Brain, You Obstinate Fucker. I Drank The Clear Splashy Stuff. I Ate The Green Things. I Went Under
Hi brain, you obstinate fucker. I drank the clear splashy stuff. I ate the green things. I went under that bright fucker up there. I did the thing with the moving and sweating and whatnot. Now make the happy chemical, you lump of fuck.
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More Posts from Enoughdonegone
Driving in a snowstorm last night I came to a realization.
My sense of self preservation is returning.

This is the reminder card for my follow up appointment after my abortion. I've kept it since receiving it in the last few days of 2016. My woman asked why I've kept so many things that hurt and remind me of terrible times.
These scraps corroborate my story. If I don't keep them, the terrible things that have happened to me just become a figment of my imagination; another false excuse as to why I'm not a better adjusted Adult.
Furthermore, and probably the darker side of my trauma response, I've felt I deserve the misery these memories stir up. Comfort is not something I'm entitled to given my sins and finding reminders of that is part of how I can atone. Real pain is penance after all.
I told her. She said all of the right things. The kind, supportive words we all allow to bounce off of us; so unlike the things he would have said, which I would have allowed to soak into my core.
But I will try a little harder, and today I shredded this damn thing.
Food was always a Thing
He'd tell me he was bored with the food I made so I'd find a new recipe. He would criticise everything about it, say it looked disgusting and ask why I was so stupid.
So he'd give me one to try, I'd make it and he'd love it. If I made it again, it was never as good as the first time. If I made it again he hated it. If I never made it again he would tell me that he loved it and I was withholding it because I was lazy/a cunt.
Find you a partner who, knowing you love them, will make oatmeal peanut butter cookies despite hating both peanut butter and oatmeal themselves.
His name is Dan, by the way. I'm tired of allowing him so much anonymity.