Tag Archives: Childhood PTSD

As Was Then

“Oh Daddy…” but he wasn’t Daddy at all, though he was. In her mind, she was little again, as she was then. He was the man she wanted him to be that he could be, but wasn’t when he hurt … Continue reading

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Focus on the Now

Cross-legged on the floor, she clung to composure, a chaotic wind wanting to tear her world apart, carry her away. “Focus on the present, focus on the now.” The words burst forth, words once learned, words surfacing when she needed … Continue reading

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The Wait

In school, she painted smiles. At home, at night, she waited for floorboards to creak outside her door, for her door to open. Outside, children waited for birthdays, the Easter Bunny, and Santa on his sled. Inside, she waited for … Continue reading

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#NaNoWriMo Ending – Resolve

It’s my sincere hope that everyone met their personal goals during NaNoWriMo. It’s my further hope you continue, that you finish the draft, and one day revise it. NaNo is but the beginning of the beginning. If you didn’t win, … Continue reading

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Pluvial Night

Runaway, pluvial night. Cold in her bones. Unwanted. Undone. Uncertain life was worth another breath. Hurting to her soul. PTSD in the making. Each step, each raindrop, another reason to kneel in surrender. Awakening inner voice. Unforeseen inner strength. Walking … Continue reading

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Victim No More

Shrinking, wilting, trapped in the darkness, cowering. Victim. Managed, abandoned, stamped with a label, damaged. Outcast. Hopelessness, lifelessness, assistance that fades away, faceless. Forgotten. Grasping, seeking, the fickle left behind, standing. Awakened. Pneuma, yoga, sparking the strength within, survivor. Worthy. … Continue reading

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Fear and Wonder as Influences

Ontyre, like all my writing, is a product of me, good and bad. Its origins are my origins. Its vistas are a product of my vision. Its characters a remix of my experiences. Its heartbreaks and joys come from my … Continue reading

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The Year of Fear that Became Creative Redemption

This is about my ongoing Covid-19 lockdown, but it’s also about writing. Oh, but that’s just the beginning because, in the end, it’s about my writing salvation. At the moment the walls were closing in I found purpose. How ironic … Continue reading

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Too Deep to Shatter

For too long it was a pain endured, a visitor to her room at night, a mirror for her steps when she tried to flee. They hadn’t locked him away, but they should have. They hadn’t erased her memory, but … Continue reading

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When Writing Demanded I Heal from Childhood PTSD

Purpose. Commitment. Commitment to purpose. Fulfilling purpose requires the right tools and resources, both as a person and a writer. 2020 wasn’t just a year to assess, but a test. Entering the year, I had big expectations, but then Covid-19 … Continue reading

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