The Quill of Samantha Grace Newcastle

domestic abuse

  • Old memories and grace

    Satan and his minions always trying to breathe life into old memories that no longer belong to us, to whisper shame and convince us that history is the same as identity. When those familiar reflections come, lay them at the cross. Release the weight that tries to press upon your heart, and learn to laugh… Read more

  • what am I

    what am I, why do I hold love with nowhere to go In a landscape stripped bare,roots claw at the earth; Here, it grows,seeking truth in the silence, a prayer,for love with nowhere to go, my wandering spirit in a desert of desolation hungry for the rain,for a promise forgotten, fragments of joy hover,like moths… Read more

  • eye glasses

    Taking a normal pair of eyeglasses out of their case, putting them back in, then even slowly pulling them out; it’s much like the emotions of abuse The case represents shelter and safety, while removing the glasses means stepping into a world where it once was destroyed but in truth they can be useful, helping… Read more

  • it is very real

    Below are common C-PTSD markers, especially as they appear after long-term narcissistic or relational abuse. 1. Emotional DysregulationDifficulty returning to baseline after stress.Sudden anger, irritation, or rage (often followed by shame)Emotional numbness or shutdownFeeling “too much” or “nothing at all”Overwhelm from relatively small triggers 2. Persistent HypervigilanceThe nervous system stays in threat mode.Constant scanning for… Read more

  • observe never absorb

    I sit with affective empathy in my office and cradle my coffee while lost in a mosaic of fractured reflections from the storm in the mind of the person across the desk from me watching out the slightly open window as a petulant child tugs on the hem of her mother’s patience, and hearing her… Read more

  • moratorium Schrödinger

    Today is another day where I am Schrödinger’s cat sitting in the box along with uncertainty, which stems from the weight of possibility that I am both alive and dead simultaneously Hourly I am pinned between the what if, and the never was,a silent empty chair across from me the uninvited guest,the taste of stale… Read more