Tw Past Trauma - Tumblr Posts
"Don't believe the narcissism
When everyone projects and expects you to listen to 'em.
Make no mistake, I live in a prison
That I built myself, it is my religion.
And they say that I am the sick boy;
Easy to say, when you don't take the risk, boy.
Welcome to the narcissism
Where we're united under our indifference."
~
-Sick Boy, Chainsmokers
Whumptober No.2
Not even the one with the most walls built was immune to the enemy's will.
(Click for better quality)
#19
Imagine your parental f/o finding out about some trauma and/or disorder after unintentionally triggering you. Imagine their heart shattering into pieces when they realise how hurt you feel.
TW: past abuse. trauma theme.
—- + -—
Whatever happened in the past, it robbed you of something. Choices were so fickle, people were so hard to please, and it took a great toll on you blindly walking on eggshells everyday.
You should’ve seen the look in your F/O’s eyes when they learnt of this. It wasn’t a crazy or disgusted look, never. It was just… hollow and lost. A labyrinth of feelings spearing through them: rage at the person(s) who did this, painful vulnerability that they weren’t there to shield their beloved, utter confusion at why anybody would even dare to think such things of you— much less act them out… and determination. The determination to show you that you can and have proved your abuser wrong.
Your F/O is there to commemorate the good days. They’ll greet each beautiful morning and send off each graceful night with your stunning smile in mind. Even when the moment comes that you doubt your past, they make sure to come close — whether literally or figuratively — and list off all of the amazing things you were able to do despite the pain brought by people who were supposed to cherish you (even if you think the only remarkable thing you did was getting out of bed for two seconds.) The past tried to destroy you, and you endured even when it seemed hopeless. It’s okay to rest now, your F/O loves each and every “broken” part of you.
Your F/O is there to remind you you’re not alone when the world has chosen you to play Atlas. No matter how much you could try to convince them otherwise, they’ll always reply with a gentle (yet pointed) look, because “Even if this is you being a burden, I’d still carry something ten times heavier just to spend a few moments with you.” They’ll encourage you to allow yourself soft moments… coax you to let down your walls around them— as far as you’re comfortable, of course… happily give you small reasons to greet each day alongside them… ease in each and every awe-inspiring thing about you so you can at least see a fraction of yourself the way they see you…
Your F/O is simply, endlessly, lovingly there.
TW: past abuse. abandonment issues. self-doubt. intrusive thoughts. self-hate statments that S/I believes but are not true. trust issues (kinda). 750+ words.
— - + - —
You had exposed yourself to your F/O. You showed them your raw, emotional, troubled self… but they were still here. Something in your mind doesn’t fit right, panic rising as it washes over the euphoria you had experienced alongside your beloved under their tender care.
Because they were there.
Why hadn’t your F/O left? Why had they stayed so long? So many had abandoned you by this point, why don’t they? Is there an endgame to this? You are a freak, a horror, a traumatized lump of human flesh… You’ll poison them… Why can’t they just see that and leave already? (Not to mention the other side of your raging mind: the one on its knees, the one that grovels and begs and dehumanizes itself into a living joke just to have another person give you a second of attention…)
Deep down, you know why the thoughts are there.
You are expecting abandonment.
Every moment your F/O welcomes you into their warm embrace oh-so cruelly, you know you’re falling further and further for them. But you can’t allow yourself to do that.
You are expecting abandonment.
So much so that you make a fool of yourself and show your most vulnerable sides to them and hope it wards your F/O off… because it’s easier to say that they left because of your actions than to wait a lifetime for them only to realize their absence is the only answer you’ll ever get.
You are expecting a—
“Love?”
You dry your tears against your shirt as discreetly as possible, red eyes darting to and fro— anywhere away from your F/O’s. “…Yeah?” You cringe at the cracks in your own voice, How dare you not be able to hide this better? How dare you burden them?
Your F/O leans closer just the tiniest bit. “Are you feeling okay?”
“I’m fine,” you say, lips pressed tight.
“C’mon, S/I, you’re underestimating me if you think I can’t notice when you’re upset.” They offer a reassuring smile, although it wavers as your guilty lack of response hangs in the still air. “… Just… I won’t force you, okay? But I know you aren’t feeling well, and that it’s not healthy to keep it all in like this.”
Your voice doesn’t disrupt the silence. A single syllable could break down the dam holding back your sobs, God, you’re a crybaby. You’re weak, pathetic.
“Hey, love, could you please look at me?”
Your line of sight wavers, yet it’s your F/O’s gentle hold and their warm gaze that attracts your own like a magnet’s fated pull.
“There you are,” they utter. “You never were, never are, and never will be a burden, S/I, I love you just as you are. This isn’t a punishment and I will never use it against you. I just want to make sure you’re alright… Like all of those times you did the same to me, ok?”
As calm and tender as they are, there are still signs of breakage in your F/O’s voice. They want to banish — perhaps even worse — whoever taught you those self-damaging beliefs in the first place, but your health comes first. When you’re tangled up in barbs of false promises and toxic love, all your F/O wishes to do is untangle you with a touch of silk and show you what warmth is like. They want to chase those swarms of bad thoughts away and kiss your forehead at night when they’re sure the only thing in your mind is soft dreams of carelessness when you finally let yourself feel safe in their arms.
Some time after their reassurances, your walls break— perhaps for the first time in front of them. Maybe it’s loud and messy whilst your F/O gathers you in their arms, or maybe your tears are silent until you succumb and press yourself against their chest.
And by the end?
“Can I ask you… something…?” You hesitate, doubt still plaguing that one place in your mind.
Your F/O places a kiss against your temple. “Always, love.”
“I mean…” Your gaze wanders off. “It’s a bit unnecessary, maybe even childish…”
“As long as it’s you? As long as you think it’s important and it matters to making you feel safe? It’ll never be unnecessary.”
“… Could you promise…?”
They nod and a small, wonderful smile graces their features. “You don’t ever have to worry about me leaving, S/I. I promise that I’ll always be here for you, that you’ll always be worth waiting for.”
(this imagine is under a cut because it deals with themes of trauma, abuse, and rape, and centers around self-trauma invalidation. it does not depict abuse but I felt more comfortable presenting it this way.)
traumatized self-shippers who feel like what they went through “wasn’t that bad” or wasn’t really XYZ Bad Thing:
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