Such strange feelings
Floating away
The numbness is coming
No longer at bay

Like quiet birds
Heard from inside
Far far away
Floating in the sky

Brief sharp chirps
That can't be held
Pass through my fingers
I'm too overwhelmed

Is it numbness or peace
Am I catching a break
Is my face real
A mask? A fake?

Chirp chirp suddenly screaming
But quiet and far
Chipping at the windows
But unable to mar

My walls are too strong
For these floating birds
For now I'll allow it
No feeling just words

For all too soon
The numbness will break
I'll be flooded again
Stranded in my lake

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

"but whoever causes one of these little ones who believe in me to sin,[a] it would be better for him to have a great millstone fastened around his neck and to be drowned in the depth of the sea."

I have fibromyalgia from trauma, but even with medication that otherwise helps my pain, there is sharp pain that persists in the part of my spine just below my shoulders. I've been trying to identify how and when this pain started for years now.

After being diagnosed with DID, I learned so much more about myself. My memories make more sense now. I can also communicate with the different parts of myself more effectively.

One part showed me last night why my back still hurts. My memories of the torture and CSAM are hard to access, but it helps to communicate through art. I also learned where my nerve pain and seizures may be coming from. I still have a lot of medical testing to do, but this piece helped me understand myself more. This part told me they won't let go until we can understand what happened and tell someone, they're not ready to let go.

Our hearts break daily,
Yet…
We step so gently,
As the pain grows heavy,
And our eyes go glazy,

Never getting the chance to forget,
How we were treated so harshly,

Lost to the depths of hell,
And it’s insanity,

That my dear,
Is our reality.

i hate sleeping

Strength and independence are often celebrated, but too some it may not be a choice.

I have been working through trauma, breaking down barrier after barrier. Each layer reveals a deeper understanding of myself, yet it also exposes the challenges of hyper-independence – a trait that has become my main identity for most of my life. Independence is my shield, where I run when even the smallest ounce of vulnerability threatens to surface.

For years, this has been an unconscious battle. The more vulnerable I feel, the more fiercely I cling to my independence. A paradox that defies human nature, we’re wired for connection, yet trauma can twist this instinct into something unrecognizable. Instead of reaching out for support, I find myself retreating into isolation, the only means of survival I have known.

Art has become my safest place to represent my vulnerability, I wanted to represent this battle with hyper-independence. I was browsing the internet, and a picture of a lion caught my eye. Most would look at a lion and only see strength, resilience, courage, and bravery. A lion's roar is easily assumed to be a declaration of power and strength, a warning to keep a distance.

But would you ever think that the roar is a cry for help?

This powerful, strong, courageous creature but paralysed in terror, a contradiction rarely considered.

This resonates deeply with the experience of hyper-independence. On the surface, I appear strong, someone who has survived life's challenges with an unwavering sense of independence. My strength is often complimented on by others, someone who can weather any storm alone.

I have learned my independence masks my vulnerability rather than protects it. This realization made me conscious of the battle that resides in me- the struggle between wanting connection and fearing it at all costs.

What many don’t see are the moments that truly define my strength, those moments where I yearn for connection but feel overwhelmed by the urge – fuelled by fear - to maintain my independence at all costs.

The moments I have overcome the paralysing terror you see in the lion's eyes.

For someone who has responded to trauma by becoming hyper-independence, vulnerability feels like an impossible concept. Showing any sign of vulnerability, often much less than what is felt, takes immense courage. These courageous moments often go painfully unnoticed because, for many, needing others seems as natural as breathing to many, —a day-to-day interaction without much thought.

Hyper-independent is not a choice; it's an act of survival that serves as both an armour and a prison. The lion's roar may indeed be a cry for help—a reminder that those who seem strong and self-sufficient need support too. The chances are they may not want to be alone, but it’s often the only way they know how to cope.

I hope to transform my silent roar into something more expressive—a call for connection rather than a retreat into solitude.

Songs from his native country that remind me of the lively parties and barbecues our immigrant enclave threw what felt like every weekend…

Really beautiful classic songs in French, by Joe Dassin and Dalida, if you happen to be familiar..

Nat King Cole’s duet with his daughter, Unforgettable… that used to be one of “our” songs

Dad was always a romantic. In the sense that he loved art, nature, poetry, and music. Always, always music.

Dad had whole photo albums dedicated to me. I was his whole world. For sure it was a disordered relationship from the very start.

I haven’t been able to cry lately about it. It’s been over a year of no contact. I’ve been so brave. This last holiday season I had to keep it together, for me and my brother live together and he’s far less “awake” then I am. I saw the little boy in him that wanted to watch Home Alone and decorate the tree- so we did. I wanted to forget the holiday and get through to regular old winter. Now that it’s over I realized I’ve been holding my breath since Thanksgiving, possibly longer.

Lately every night my inner child cries out for dad. Not literally but I feel the emotional energy. We’ve been falling asleep to Disney movies, an intuitive move on her part.

Still my inner child needed to have some connection to those memories. So the Universe somehow led me to those songs on my Spotify. I wasn’t looking.

I was grateful for the spontaneous cry. I wanted to cry more, but then my brother came home.

Nothing really else to say. I had one major grief breakthrough a few years ago, where I cried and cried and dry heaved almost as if to expel some the garbage introjected into me, including the false, never safe, bond …

My dreams of having a successful relationship and a kid of my own one day, put on hold…

…That’s why darling, it’s incredible, that someone so unforgettable, thinks that I am unforgettable too

Kittens in a meds container

You don’t feel well you say But you don’t tell me to go so I stay The world seems greyer you think of the worse I agree sometimes the world hurts And sometime we can’t explain why we feel the way we dooo But it feels better together with you so i imagine

Reading in the rain with the muted light Talking to each other my darling late at night Sunflowers always grow closest to the sun So I hope you remember your life has only just begun

Things will get better over time I hope but if not we have these simple moments to get us through Lime hurts more then time though it hurts sometime worse too mostly there’s nostalgia and future sight ,s

Imagine those kitten kisses when you get them baby it’s going to be alright Baby please stay and fight I use to be where you are bitten by the dark But soon you be killed by sweetness with love in your heart

If I could I would build a better world block by block with a map made of chalk that glows so when I’m gone you would never be alone But these moments are a castle made of stone

one-day you can settle some of these things And see what that brings But into then imagine the rainbow the of possibltys That grow from every door You were scared to open anymore

Imagine those kitten kisses when you get them baby it’s going to be alright Baby please stay and fight I use to be where you are bitten by the dark But soon you be killed by sweetness with love in your heart

( hi so this was written as song lyrics for myself on a good day who’s been in therapy for a while to my partner who at time was not in therapy and depressed + it seems cptsd but as to myself in the future with cptsd and depression :) hope you like(: