emotional abuse
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you’ve never been thereyou’ve never held each memoryI wear my scars like scratches, scuffs, and swirling spoons striking my body ,faded edges, chipped rim you don’t see the way I gather pieces of myself from the floor, as a reminderof the ones who slipped through my hands like tiny grains of sand loneliness is a… Read more
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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
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the life clock ticks moment by moment an agonizing reminder of loss; faith slipping through my fingers like dust washed from gold by hydrogen cyanide My forgotten prayers all blurred, my guts are wrenched pleading for resurrection from the death I call life, and the light that never comes Outside, the horror of east coast… Read more
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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
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once again the kettle whistles, once a loud demand, now only a dull complaint; which is all that fills this hollow space as a reminder—even the simplest things can turn bitter gazing across the pasture I trees standing like military sentinels but they know nothing of the weight that grows heavier each minute daily I… Read more
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I do not fear any door closing, nor the weight of absence that settles over empty fields as sunflowers bow alive in stillness and silence For over 10 years I have courted chaos, and her friend loss took my hand, as to steal me away then Death saw me and smiled for he is an… Read more
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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
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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
The Quill of Samantha Grace Newcastle 