discovered a ptsd trigger i didn't already know about

i keep having internal cramping in my abdomen and. uh. tmi but lower. and I'm fucking sick of it. It's been a week of this. it reminds me of him and what he did/let happen to me. it even feels like it's happening again for a moment and when it passes all i can do is sit there and wait to come out of the dissociation it causes, which could potentially be an entire day

I think arguably one of the only things worse than ignoring / denying a victim of abuse is accusing them of being the abuser. Especially given the fact that most abusers use tactics like “you made me do this” or the old “you are abusing me by calling out my abuse bc it makes me feel bad”. The victims who escape those situations often face a long road in their ‘next life’ of internally focused paranoia and constant moral inventory taking; afraid that setting a boundary, or being firm (or being in a bad mood even) is behavior that is too reminiscent of how their own abuser acted. Trauma altering the ability to differentiate. Having to muck through the dense fucking mud of “Am I a bad person, and that’s why this happened to me? Maybe it was all my fault…” A truly devastating phenomenon.

ID: a traumacore edit. The background shows the inside of a bathtub filling with water and foaming with bubble bath. The foreground is an overlay of floating images. On the left side of the picture, an albino lamb curls up with its rear closer to the camera. A syringe, a pocket knife with dog teeth engraved on the blade, and a small revolver with a pink bow on the ivory handle all point threateningly at the lamb. A black censor bar covers the lamb's rear. On the right side of the picture are two condoms and a dollar bill folded into a heart resting under a folded stethoscope. Captions on the image read quote "I'll ask for it. I'll beg for it. If you really want me to." Endquote. End ID.

Consent is key! 🏥

👄 Whatever you do, don't say no!

I can't wait to escape you / It's gonna kill me but I have to / For my own sake / For my own future

sometimes at night / i think of shouting in hotel rooms / and wish i brought it to a fistfight. // i wish i even once hit back out of malice / rather than hopeless flailing. / i wish i was something other than a scared animal. // i was so sore by then, / and so tired, / and old enough to be blamed for it. / you called me filthy and i broke. // there’s no escape. / why fight it? / i was old enough to know better, / old enough to be asking for it. / you dirtied me with hands that remained clean. / no one could blame you for what i made you do. / i was there. i asked for it. // there’s no escape. / why fight it? // (it’s easier to pretend it doesn’t hurt.) // (i wish i hit you back.)

it was so easy, it was near effortless / i bet you liked it that way