I HATE REMEMBERING I DONT WANT ANYTHING TO DO WITH YOU. YOU ARENT ME AND THESE ARENT MY MEMORIES

I created this piece inspired by the lyrics from Daughter’s song Candles “I'll do whatever you say to me in the dark. Scared I'll be torn apart by a wolf in a mask of a familiar name on a birthday card” and my experience with CSA and grooming.

“Multitudes Contained”

A monthly discussion thread for all CPTSD creatives to chat, ask creative-related questions, or simply to post ideas/suggestions.

i hate how ppl will see me one way then will later have to see me in a completely different way because I am a kind of broken that is not very common. I know I'm not broken but it comes off that way- like a design flaw. Like it looks human but it's not. Not really. She has teeth and they look like they're all there but every tooth looks different from the one next to it. Some AI-generated horror. She is very well-spoken, a rebel and a leader but oh my god what happened why is she so broken and distraught now. Look, she's fusing with her bed. She's completely paralyzed. She was enthusiastic and put on a facade of knowledge but now you see, she's exactly like the rest. The brain-dead rest who just want to numb themselves. She'll squirm like a fish out of water then give up. Then squirm again because she's not dead then give up again. Then squirm some more then give up. And the more you watch her the more you see her fractal-like pattern except it's not captivating unless you're on drugs. Out here she's just sick and flailing and it's too much for anyone

Cow

Cow

Wailing moos in a yellow walled room

This day will drive you to vodka

Born a cow,

You always knew it, home, legs spread

On the bathroom floor to guard against contagion

Seven, eight,

Bleeding from your scrubbing shame

You can only love water things

Jellyfish and rain

Drinking a slushie in the downpour with your sister

Jellyfish soup runs thicker than sticky veins

Bleeding bleeding on tiles

Scrubbing scouring sobbing insane

Cow

Hide a dark splodge mark of shame

That no one should see

And know you are not human

Cow

Focus on the radiator cover

Little crosses cut in white wood like flowers

Look at you like eyes

Cow

Are they mean to you

In the playground

You talk too much and sit like a man

Little girl

You hold your knife and fork in the wrong hands

No one will ever want you, she says

Cow

R--ard

F--got

What did the man do at the funfair

You were with your grandma

New years day

Why didn't you tell?

You got scared of her

When you tried to say

But she saw-

See-saw, she flies up, you fly down, fat, hungry

Cow

You remember

Her golden glasses-

or were they pearly purple-violet?

-threw your tights

Greyier than the sky

When you lie in bed and don't open your eyes

As through flower curtains the realisation comes

That all there will ever be in cold sheets

Cow

As you are still shaking from how she banged on the door to see

See you shame

And you were afraid.

Cow

They feed you wet ham and cold cous cous Cous cous is always cold. But it is freezing in here

There is an old black leather sofa to hide behind

And a black TV turned off

Cow

It will only get worse

You starfished in the snow to go

To the hospital, because you know for sure they all wish you were never born

Cow, rope to the shed

In Morrisons mummy said

She wished you were dead

In Sainsbury's she said a calf as cold as you was a waste of her life

And they cut her out womb,

And dropped it in a bin.

Maybe she hated it, for growing a

Cow

You must make friends that smash their heads and bleeding in the bathroom

And cut out there skin hallucinations

Of bugs crawling on the walls

And up the side of your legs

And scuttling blood down your neck

Cow

You look down at your birthmark, find only crawling bloodied worms

Crawling shame, Crayola crayons,

Cut like little crosses cut in red wood like flowers

Crawling shame, Crayola crayons, clit to cut away.

Cut away you perverted fucking girl

Cut the curtains from your cunt

Cut the flesh from your calf

Calfhood is done

Cow.

Funny. How they only pitty pretty little

Lambs to the slaughter

I typed a poem based on my experience of being bullied, this one is about a certain person who left me with reoccurring memories of what happened but also how eventually I questioned if it ever happened

The last two years have been the worst of my life.
They left me broken, bruised, and battered—
my heart, my mind, my body, my soul, all shattered.

They brought back things I hoped would stay gone,
things I wish had never existed at all.
They buried the progress I had made,
the positivity I had built, under the weight of it all.
Optimism felt like a curse,
and all that was left was pessimism and nihilism,
dragging me into darkness.
Everything went black.
My heart felt stolen.
My eyes refused to see hope.

But lately,
something shifted.
Light started to break through the cracks.
Life came back to me,
slowly, cautiously, but undeniably.
Hope returned, just a glimmer at first,
but then it grew.
My heart came back too.
It grew three times its size,
pushing through the hurt,
beating stronger than before.

I owe my survival to my guardian angels,
the people who stood by me when I couldn’t stand on my own.
They were the stars guiding me back to safety,
their love, their grace, their strength
holding me together
as I learned how to move forward again.

I owe them everything.
But I also owe myself something.
Because without my strength—
even just the smallest piece of it—
none of what they did would have worked.
Their efforts wouldn’t have mattered
if I hadn’t let them in,
if I hadn’t made the choice to keep going.

So while I praise them
and give them all the credit they deserve—
and they do deserve it all—
I also have to give myself credit.
Because I deserve it too.

Without me, I wouldn’t be here.
So thank you, me,
for finding a way to survive when everything felt impossible,
for opening your eyes again to the light.

A drawing of an actual event in my life that happened when I was 17. Laid in the bathroom looking like rotisserie chicken cuz of how hot I felt. The perpetrator of my misery was my eldest sister. She's shameless. Gets mad that I hold resentment for all the things she's done.

Had to censor or Reddit automatically removes it, uncensored versions I always post somewhere on my account

Not sure if this is the right place for this but I do have C-PTSD and I find calm within the community. I added the spoiler in case you are not looking for something happy and light. I know from experience that can be hard to see when you are in a dark place.