Trauma Writing

20 creative works found

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• trauma
  by Ushna Sardar

  *_extremely insane mind / resting fear / resting unconscious / the subconscious mind / unconscious desires / a strange inhuman sound / liv…

  Trapped love this!!! / Romo thanks for that an awesome piece of art Robin my friend!! /

• Conception
  by lolowe

  I wonder how many of us ever really remember our birth? / How many of us actually remember the feeling / Of our world becoming smaller, ...

• TALKING TO MYSELF IN THE DARK
  by JaneAParis

  ...on my gravestone, don’t write rest in peace

  Feeling like you are nothing and your life is out of control…

• Have You Ever
  by Crowmanic

  Have you ever been in life, in such a place where being bottled … / attacked and throttled was just a part of everyday struggle … a wa…

  Dramatic existence and crippling violence is endemic amongst far too many communities within Aboriginal society. Usually kept out of sight and off the radar of awareness of the ‘mainstream’. In my view, and to some extent, it is the manifestation of a disease of the soul., and often comes under the terms ‘domestic’ or family violence. The ‘spirit’ behind this epidemic is known by many names; cruelty, revenge, misguided pay-back, alcohol abuse, rejection, pain, rape, frustration, anger, racism, drugs, insecurity, poverty and fear, just to name a few. It is the expression of a dis-eased spirit (the “Mamu” or “evil” (bad-fella) that operates in the vacuum that has been created by dispossession, disillusionment and trauma, coupled with the erosion of a secure and sound identity. It spreads in times of intense distress, trauma, and uncertainty. Wanton violence is systemic disease that spreads like a cancerous and corrosive virus, and appears to thrive where there is little love for one’s ‘self’ and hence little to no regard nor respect for others. / This epidemic is not unique to Aboriginals in Australia. It is just more amplified, more readily identified, because of the disproportionate high numbers of victims from within a small percentage of the Australian population.

• WAITING
  by JaneAParis

  She cried inside and out. She tried to reach him, but she was restrained…

  This is about loss and another chance…

• SURREAL REALITY DESK
  by JaneAParis

  But no one really cares, to them she is always naked, clothed or not clothed…

  Just another day at work…in political hell.

• When Trouble Never Has To Look Too Far For You
  by saiminyaku

  It was fifty-six hours and a c-section later; you were birthed with crimped ears and blue lungs. Moving into the night, you’re still in a…

  Short work – Writing revision

• The scenes we left behind remain
  by anaisnais

  Embedded in tormented mind , / blood clogged fields, / dangling limbs – contorted. / Whistling ammunition, / gun fire resounds.

• How wrong she was
  by Arletta

  How wrong she was, not to fall apart, not to fade away, not to die wretchedly / On she went, unmindful of chattering twits or twittering …

  Actually, I started writing this out of annoyance in regards going to court and being accused of being the predominant cause of lack of communication between me and my Ex – as if .. well, I can’t tell you what might have really been the cause of it, because that would be being less than nice and get me in trouble. All I can do is to change the subject and tell you to watch American Psycho, Sleeping with the Enemy, and .. .err. .whatever that Jennifer Lopez movie is. Then jam them all together in your mind and ask yourself : Would I have trouble communicating with that conglomerate man? However, this is not about court, my Ex, or those movies. This is about before that, grade school nastiness that, for some of us, never stops.

• From the High Walls
  by Matt Penrose

  Her eyes grew wide as she saw an Achaean lift his arms above the battlement edge, holding a tiny figure in his hands. It was a baby. Ida …

  My first short story in a year, depicting the Trojan War’s bloody aftermath. You will witness through a young woman’s eyes the senselessness of the war, the futility of the Achaean cause, and how even the bright spark of a child and the joy he brings can so easily be blown out…

• Soaring
  by IdKid

  Temporal transgressions, muted though they are / Invade in the company of silence

  To me, one of the things that makes us definitively human is our ability to learn and transform in challenging circumstances. This piece is about that process and what it feels like from start to finish.

• define the missing
  by yesthisismyart

  in the middle of the cold winter night / his soul quivers facing wind’s bites / he keeps walking despite silence / face downs, hands tighte…

• frank's living war
  by H J Higgins

  The sidewalk lost its interruptions and became a long, thin strip of grey on which Frank began to run. Her ringing laughter fell onto th…

  A story about a soldier struggling to deal with life after the war, which is now just a blurry version of the living past and detached present.

• Fear Conceived
  by IdKid

  What species of fear / lives only for you? Is of this world but / born of one parallel?

  This is a piece about post traumatic stress disorder and what I imagine it might be like to live with. It is a hidden experiece that many people or varied histories share in common, but in not often spoken about.

• My Dream
  by MissA

  Morgan lived with her mother and father happily in a dainty cottage by the sea. On Morgan’s 10th birthday her mother suddenly vanished wi…

  This story is based on a dream I have had a few times now. I am very puzzled about what it means!

• Dream Log: It'll Never Be Enough
  by saiminyaku

  I know when it’s coming even at it’s faintest point of existence. An adrenaline driven waking spent drenched in a very familiar sweat. ...

  Short work – Writing revision

• Train Ride to Naples
  by Veronica Purcell

  Heat and a high shrill pained her ears. “Ugh!” She tried to scream and felt her voice taken away from her.

  I thought I lost this story when my pc crashed. Thank god I had it stored on my wordpress site. It killed me for so long thinking it was gone. A short story inspired by Rikkipaul’s image The Sleeping Man No12. / It was a long afternoon and Amelia had a feeling it was going to drag on longer. She slouched in her chair and pressed her bored face to the window. Trees and houses blurred across her vision; the view became the same picture.

• Pain of the past
  by Thornrose

  Winter, pain, misery, hate

• Shards
  by DKerr

  We were a family once / of a common voice, singing / in strains of harmony / of the dreams we shared, / looking in the mirror as one, / a unit…

  A family splinters apart in divorce

• MR. bunny
  by pumpkinpatch

  But MR. bunny had been warned about this, so he was prepared to watch the syrup distribution carefully, especially when it came to this p…

  Life has problems. We need to find solutions, move on, and enjoy.