Flashbacks - Tumblr Posts
Screaming! Holy shit, YES! THIS IS WHAT I'VE BEEN DREAMING OF!!!!
“We are doing an Old Guard anthology. It’s gonna be six issues, two stories per issue, each story 12 pages. It’s gonna be called The Old Guard: Tales Through Time. We’ve invited some folk to write stories set in the canon, artists and writers– I’m not gonna say who yet. Leo and I will do the first and last one, and then Leo and I will begin working on the third series.”
Greg on comic news for the old guard
My True Story: Behind My Smile (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/story/361031626-my-true-story-behind-my-smile?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_myworks&wp_uname=Little_Mermaid_90 First of all, I'm not a liar I'm honest, second, I'm blessed I'm grateful to be alive and I'm not the type to be messed around with I'm a warrior of God is what God called me to be and right now I'm a prophet in training by Angie branch who is my foster sister I've been and seen so much worse things but Jesus kept me in the mist of it all I am happily engaged but things that I prayed for came years later even though I lost a few people or maybe a lot in my life time but what had I been through is true but other liars in my life tried to cover it up so don't let their mistakes fool you in this book cause Greater is He that is within Me that Is King of Heaven and not of this world earth is His Foot Stool!!!!!!
So I'm reblogging this from a fandom person I follow but it's on brand for the shit I post so, hello! I have OSDD and CPTSD (both of those disorders have a HUGE amount of symptom overlap and are caused by severe, prolonged trauma). I have different types of flashbacks, triggered by different things, so I'll try to organize my answer below but please be aware that my answers might be triggering especially for anyone who has experienced childhood sexual abuse and/or child trafficking. These terms are just what I use to discuss them with my therapist, so idk if they are official terms or not.
• Tactile flashbacks, also called tactile hallucinations
In these, I am entirely aware of where and when I am, but I feel sensations that were occurring during my trauma. It's usually triggered by experiencing pain from old injuries. For specifically (TW!!!!), I occasionally get nerve pain in my vulva from an injury where I was penetrated with an object and it damaged my cervix severely. Sometimes that nerve pain triggers a tactile flashbacks, where I can feel hands and the object touching me exactly the way it felt when it was really happening. It is so realistic that the first few times it happened, part of me was shocked that I wasn't bleeding or hadn't sat on a knife or some weird shit. It makes it feel like I don't even have pants on. It's fucking disorienting and PAINFUL and scary.
I've spent years training myself to show it as little as possible if it happens in public, because it's not the kind of thing that's easily explainable. But the added stress of hiding it triggers me even more- because hiding was an important job I did to cover up for my abusers, so hiding pain is both instinctual and triggering now- that it kind of just makes it worse. So if I'm around someone, they might see me grimace or shift on my chair a bit, I've also heard that I get pretty pale, but I almost always lie and make up an excuse like cramps, which people tend to believe.
But in reality it's horrific and once I'm in privacy, I am pretty useless for the rest of the day unless I have a close friend or my husband around to help me stay grounded and get back on track.
•Emotional flashbacks
This happens a lot when I'm triggered by an everyday normal occurrence that in normal life, is totally fine, but in my past was something I used to know whether or not I was in danger. Probably the most annoying one is the sound of dishes clanging as someone puts them away. If that happened in my childhood, it meant I hadn't put away the dishes in time, and would be punished (but not grounded because my parents were fucking monsters- punishment for me was things like being locked in very small spaces, being forced to braid my hair in high pigtails and hairspray it and go to school looking stupid, not getting food for a few days, having things thrown at me, sometimes the dishes themselves being physically broken on me).
So imagine what a child's emotions might be, knowing they're about to undergo a severe punishment- fear, regret, remorse, defence, desperation- and then transplant all of those emotions into my 32 year old body. It makes me have some wacky ass responses to my husband putting away the clean dishes. I've spent YEARS working on it but we've been together since I was 19, and just last year I got to the point where I could let him put dishes away without me actually yelling at him, or apologizing, or crying. Thank god for therapy.
Emotional flashbacks can really have drastic, immediate control over my behavior, which makes them pretty dangerous when it's not a situation as innocuous as putting away dishes. It's very hard for me to control what I say and do during these episodes, and it's one of the reasons I was diagnosed with OSDD, because my therapist thinks that when I have emotional flashbacks, I dissociate and another part of my personality kind of takes over. And it really is a dramatic personality shift. Still a part of me, but a much younger version. I used to have total amnesia of these episodes and only knew they were happening because my husband would explain them to me. Now I manage to stay conscious (sometimes called co-conscious by people in the OSDD/DID communities) but still have partial amnesia. It makes it very difficult for me to understand what someone is saying to me long enough to formulate a response that makes sense. It's horrible and really challenging to hide or control.
•Visual/dissociated flashbacks
These have only ever been triggered by sex, and they're very similar to the way flashbacks are portrayed in the media, like in movies. Either all or most of my visual field changes from the current situation to a traumatic sexual abuse memory. I completely dissociate, have no idea where I am or what's happening, but the difference from this and movies is that even within the memory, I don't understand what's happening. I don't go into it with my knowledge of what's happening and 15 years of therapy, I'm right back in the exact mindset I was when it was happening, just with the added idea that something is very wrong. Sometimes it feels like I'm asleep in a nightmare, sometimes it feels like I'm literally living it. They don't last more than maybe 30 seconds or so, and my husband tells me that he knows it's happening because my eyes get really wide, I go totally limp, and don't respond except in a way that's similar to how people might talk in their sleep. Once I come out of it, it's straight to having a panic attack, which as you can imagine is kind of awkward when you're in the middle of trying to fuck your partner. My husband is amazing about it all, but when we first got together it scared the shit out of both of us.
•Some other notes: I often try to ground myself so that I don't dissociate during or after a flashback, but for years the only way I knew to ground myself involved pain. I eventually tried to switch to methods that would hurt but not injure me (pinching the skin between my fingers, punching my thighs). But now I do grounding in a way that doesn't hurt myself- or at least I try to. I talk to myself, out loud, to remind myself where I am, what year it is, what's happening, etc. I do breathing exercises, sing loudly, try to hold a conversation. All of those things can help me stay in the present moment. Unfortunately they don't always work, but hey ya can't win 'em all.
@z-mizcellaneous-z I know that's a LOT but lemme know if you have questions or want any more details/info! I'm happy to share!
Call for People who Have First Hand Experience with PTSD
(Part of The Research Game, question by @z-mizcellaneous-z)
We are wondering if anyone who has first-hand experience can share with us what PTSD flashbacks look or feel like to you, as well as what it might look like from the outside perspective (such as witnessed by friends/strangers).
(please only share if you're comfortable. You can also send me an anonymous ask instead!)
Everyone else, reblog this around until we can find someone who has the answer!
(Otherwise, there's a Youtube channel I know of that aims to spread awareness of PTSD and may help you here: https://youtu.be/vdLfrJSzMY8, though it's important to note she has Complex PTSD, which is slightly different and is characterized by prolonged trauma rather than a single event)
I have a medical issue that's triggering sensory flashbacks multiple times a day for the last couple of weeks and I'm SO TIRED AND OVER IT.
There were people complaining about how I'd ruin my rapists life by reporting him but I'm 32 fucking years old and cant function like a normal human. Someone complain about how they ruined MY life.
Being sex trafficked as a kid in broad fucking daylight in the United States is dystopian af, and gave me a dissociative disorder. I'm on three psych meds. Every time I go to the hospital or a new doctor, they see "PTSD" in my chart and tell me my symptoms are anxiety, and that has almost killed me THREE TIMES.
My trafficker is free. My rapists are all either free or dead. The one I took to trial got everything expunged from the records. Somehow he even got the news articles taken down.
And I'm just... Still here. Still trying to cope. Still living in fear of people who probably don't think of me at all.
Falling
Louis Tomlinson/Harry Styles
ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/35413789
Summary: Louis has avidly avoided listening to Harry’s new album for so long and now it’s chosen to ambush him in a grocery store.
TW: blood, injury, alcohol abuse
They were about 10 minutes into making dinner when it all started to go awry. First Ben noticed that there was no meat for the burger patties. Then about three minutes later Louis noticed they were out of cabbage for the coleslaw as well. Niall offered to run to the store, it was late enough at night that there shouldn't be too many fans he argued. But Niall had brought all the groceries they had in the first place and Louis felt horrible sending him off to the grocery store a second time. So Louis had grabbed a black beanie and some dark sunglasses and hopped in the car.
~~~~~~~~~~
Louis stands in the fluorescent lights of the grocery store staring down at the bright green cabbages. He picks up a medium sized cabbage and is rolling it in his hands to check for blemishes when his concentration is broken by the sound of a voice. Freezing in his tracks Louis lowers the cabbage back into its place and grips the handle of his shopping basket so hard his knuckles turn white. He quickly looks up above him and just as he suspected he sees a speaker.
“Fuck” he swears out-loud before looking side to side to make sure no one actually heard him talk to himself in a grocery store.
He’s avidly avoided listening to Harry’s album for so long and now it’s chosen to ambush him in a grocery store? He honestly should have expected as much. The store is quiet and Louis can hear the lyrics quite well. He knows he should put his basket down and leave immediately. He knows this could throw him into a spiral that could last weeks and yet he can’t help himself. He turns towards the vegetables and spaces out.
Harry’s voice immediately spikes a visceral reaction in him. He can feel an ache tugging at the center of his stomach right below his navel and god he misses him so much. Then the lyrics start to sink in.
He listens as Harry describes the way a drink and his wandering hands have ruined a love he once held dear and Louis' heart drops to his stomach. He suddenly feels nauseous. He’s not ready for this. He doesn’t want to hear Harry’s apology after all these years standing in an empty grocery store watching passerby in the mirror over the vegetables. He turns to go a second time but again is stopped by the pure desperation in Harry’s voice as he asks plaintively “What if I’m someone I don’t want around?”
Suddenly it’s all too much and Louis feels his breath start to quicken in his chest. He looks down at his clenched knuckles. Tries to focus on the tile of the floor beneath his feet but he can’t stop listening, can’t tear himself away and suddenly the floor starts to look exactly like the tile in his old house and he’s back 3 years.
~~~~~~
Louis wakes up tangled in the white sheets of his bed as if he has been thrashing about all night. As he peels his eyes open it takes him a couple seconds to get grounded before his heart clutches in his chest as he realizes the pillow beside him is ice cold. He wonders if Harry even bothered to come home last night or if he’s passed out in the throes of whatever party he refused to miss last night.
Last week when Harry had gone missing like this Louis had found him in the bushes by Niall's house, his clothes ripped and dirty. It had taken hours of searching to find him so by the time Niall called to let him know Harry was safe he had already forgiven him.
This tends to be the pattern. Louis and Harry fight. Harry runs off to whatever party is the craziest or the most packed. Louis worries until past midnight shaking until he finally falls asleep. Harry disappears. Louis worries too much. Harry gets found and Louis forgives him.
Louis thinks he forgives too easily. He thinks if he just was firmer with Harry. If he just told him how worried he is maybe things would be okay. But it’s hard to be honest when you're terrified. And the way Harry’s been acting lately terrifies him.
Louis shakes his head to clear his thoughts, pushing himself out of bed and grabbing some running clothes. He’s angry enough at Harry for disappearing again that he figures he’ll go on a run before unearthing his body. He needs to have a clear head before he speaks to Harry again and running helps. He shoves his shirt over his head hurriedly before padding downstairs to find some clean socks and shoes.
It isn’t till Louis reaches the bottom of the stairs that he realizes something is wrong. When he looks towards the kitchen he notices that the light is on. He definitely remembers turning it off last night. Relieved he realizes that Harry must have come home after all.
“Harry?” He calls tentatively not wanting to startle him. He waits a couple seconds but doesn’t get a response so he pushes his way through the kitchen door.
The sight that greets him leaves him frozen in shock.
The first thing he sees is Harry’s body strewn limp and pale across the hard tile floor. Then he notices the curle of blood pooling out from Harry's left hand, stark red against the white tile like a wine stain. The sight of blood shocks Louis into action and he scrambles across the floor towards the unresponsive boy in front of him.
He calls Harry’s name several times lightly hitting his face trying to wake him up before remembering to check his pulse. As Louis reaches for Harry’s right hand to find a pulse he slips in the blood on the floor and clumsily crashes against his chest. When his head lands on Harry’s chest he breathes a sigh of relief as he hears a heartbeat in his ear.
“You really scared me this time Haz” He whispers before righting himself and reaching for the cellphone in his pocket.
He calls Niall because no one else knows about how they find Harry every other morning. Niall answers the phone with a slightly frantic hello as if he already knows the news that's waiting for him. At first Louis can only breath across the line, the shock in his system intermingling with the relief of company.
“Louis? What is it? Is Harry with you?” Niall barks bringing Louis back to reality.
Louis answers, willing his voice not to shake with every bone in his body. “Niall, he’s with me but he’s not responsive. He has a pulse but he’s covered in blood. I found him on the floor of our kitchen. I don’t know what to do, do I call an ambulance?” He rushes glancing around the kitchen trying to take stock of what has actually happened. He sees a half empty bottle of whisky on the countertop with its lid off and as his gaze drifts to the floor he notices glass shards scattered around him. Looking down at himself he realizes he’s kneeling on the shards and he watches as dark inky blood starts to well from scratches on his knees. He realizes he can’t feel the cuts, his whole body filled with a bone deep numbness.
“Alright Louis, it’s okay. Take some deep breaths.” Niall’s the level headed one. Louis has always known that. “Stay next to him and try to wake him up. Maybe splash some cold water on his face” Niall continues. Louis follows his directions robotically filling a glass at the tap and walking across the glass strewn floor back to Harry. He dumps the water across him but Harry gives him no response.
“He's not responding, I don't know what to do” He tells Niall, voice weak and shaking.
“Okay sit tight and stay with him” Niall commands in a gentle voice. “I’m calling 911 and then I’ll drive over to be with you while you wait for them to arrive”
Louis breathes out full of immense gratitude and listens to the click as Niall hangs up the phone.
After that he gets lost in the blur of things. Niall arrives, he remembers hugging him sitting with Harry's body. The paramedics arrive loud and colorful. Louis can’t understand how they’re so calm, so collected, when his Harry is still laying sprawled out pale and unresponsive before them. The paramedics ask him questions he can’t answer while they move Harry to a stretcher. Niall leaves in the ambulance. Louis does not, he’s volunteered to grab Harry clothes and meet them at the hospital.
As the ambulance pulls out of his driveway he's left shaking bleeding from his knees into the pool of Harry’s blood in front of him. It takes him minutes to move to a standing position and inch backwards out of the kitchen. When he looks behind him, he is transfixed by his bloody footprints trailing across the previously pristine floor.
~~~~~
“Um excuse me?” Louis jumps as he hears an unfamiliar voice directly to his left.
“Sorry, just could you move? I need to grab one of those cabbages.” He turns eyes wide and frightened to see an old woman gesturing to the vegetables in front of him.
He breathes a sigh of relief. He’s fine. He’s in a grocery store. Harry’s okay, they’re just not on speaking terms. Louis' body is still shaking and he finds it hard to catch his breath so he pushes past the women and moves to the front of the store.
When he reaches the door he finds it difficult to pry the shopping basket from his grasp; his fingers feel frozen and numb, like they don’t belong to him anymore.
small spoilers
more stills (not all) for “dude where’s my gar” episode.
he looks so good and COOL! I love that top one for some reason 💚💚
And now…the mess
JUMPSCARE
I still 100% believe she’s dead, Rachel blew her ashes away (🤭) come on now. But why??? Her and Gar had how many conversations 2…3
I believe this is a vision or flashback type of situation. There’s another still with Rachel with black hair so.
future child: can you help me with my school project
me: whats it about
future child: the history of japan
me:
does anyone remember those stick figure fighting gifs that people used to use as their icons on forums
Rant alert about silly ppl being mean and hurtful about the hurricanes in the south and Florida right now
This hurricane is actually breaking my heart, I thought people were insensitive and horrible about Gaza (they are and it is so fucking horrible) but seeing the comments these adults leave? Omg “you’ll die if you don’t evacuate.. kids run away all the time but the second it’s a little scary suddenly it’s “my family won’t let me leave”
The teenage!!! Girl (op) was saying her family wanted to not evacuate, but she was trying to convince them. They got into a back and forth and the adult!! Said “if you are in the path you’re gonna die. You should leave.”
SHE DIDNT WANT TO LEAVE HER FAMILY TO DIE??? Do you not have any brain?
Yes I know it’s rage bait but omfg when did we decide that views and attention in comments was worth hurting people? And holy cow im so sick of people saying “why don’t you prepare” “you should’ve left, stupid southerners” LIKE ???
Did we all leave the things we learned way back in 2020 (hopefully school too) somewhere on the road? Like this rhetoric of liberals (in blue states) saying that the people, average Joe people, are at fault and need to pull themselves up by the bootstraps? It’s so disgusting.
Most of them are also white, and when ppl in their comment section call them out, they argue endlessly? Like I feel a pit of despair opening up that will swallow literally everything bc these liberals don’t know how to have any fucking empathy
I hate getting flashbacks of things I don't want to remember
Flashbacks fucking suck. And it sucks when you tell someone about them and they think you have any sort of control over when they happen. Or they think that you’re able to do something while they’re happening to stop them or make them better or idfk but it drives me fucking nuts!! FUCK
Murderbot and Trauma Portrayal
I've been thinking about Murderbot and trauma recently. Murderbot is able to shut down memories of the things that traumatised it really well. Especially with the extra stuff that us squishy humans don't have like computerish brains. But despite the ability to shut thoughts down its actual body retains the memory of the trauma and keeps lowering its performance rating even when it is Not Remembering.
Just as somebody who has to deal with trauma flashbacks, its so accurate to what I do. Because one way a mind learns to deal with trauma, is to just shut it down, such as intentional or unintentional forgetting. But that doesn't get rid of the trauma. Because trauma lives in the body, and the body remembers even when the mind does not.
Because you can't escape trauma by running from it, at least not totally. You can do it to survive, but its never going to go away by doing that, it'll always just be lurking, lowering your performance rating.
In Season 3
I sort of wonder if Brenner will be part of a flashback story involving how he fell in love with Eleven's mom and somehow the sketchy Mayor Kline is involved, maybe a love triangle?
sips coffee
can i eat your eyelashes pretty please
I will wack you with a fly swatter
Tw: sa and rape
No, because why does a fucking language trigger me just because he speaks it. Why?
Why does long blond hair trigger me? Why does the mention of a whole country just because he lives there??
Fuck this. Why does a staircase trigger me? My aunts house? Seeing my little cousins grow up? Cold blue eyes?
Everything that reminds me of him. The way he forced himself onto me. I just want to forget it
I don't want to get flashbacks and nightmares and all that ahit just because of this one man that couldn't keep his hands of a 6 year old.
I miss him.
But not because I still love him, but because I could trust him. Because he made me feel safe.
He is the first and only person I ever told everything to.
And today when I had flashbacks and a panic attack, all I wanted was him to hold me.
Because to me he means safety and trust.
Still.
Even if he is not here anymore.
TW: Mentions of self-harm and suicide
The Parking Garage 2 Blocks Away
It's pleasant to finally relax. To let my bones free and my muscles loose. All of me painting the concrete where I've laid myself to rest a vivid red. My blood will soon mingle with the rain that makes its brief trip through this watershed.
The impact was brief, the initial step off being the most terrifying part of the whole ordeal.
I'd just like to apologize.
I'm sorry to the city workers who will have to clean me off the sidewalk.
I’m sorry to the police who will spend time on this rather boring case.
I'm sorry to the journalists who will inevitably write of this and all its horror.
I'm sorry to my teachers who have spent money and time and knowledge on me.
I'm sorry to my family because so much was wasted on me just for it to amount to this.
I'm sorry to my friends because society told me I have to be even when nobody listens.
I'm sorry to my pets because they will have to count on the unreliable and unpracticed.
I'm sorry to my brother for leaving him alone in that house.
I'm sorry to my boyfriend who knew everything and still loved everything but i didn’t tell him about this. The promise was never empty, I’ll find you again after this like I promised. I swear.
I'm sorry to everyone I ever have and ever would love.