I wrestle daily with loneliness, meaning, and the realization that existence often feels like a single-player game. Let’s explore trauma, numbness, and the quiet question that appears when the world stops making promises. Ready player 1?
Browsing Category Childhood Trauma
Personal writing on childhood trauma, emotional neglect, and the quiet damage that follows you into adulthood. These essays explore memory, nervous system survival, difficult family dynamics, and the long psychological afterlife of growing up in environments that were anything but safe.
Where Is I? |
A Return of the First Person
Some memories feel third person, like the memories of childhood trauma. Like the body was there but the narrator stepped out of the room. This poem moves through the strange, disjointed grammar of survival, where identity thins, fragments, and slowly rebuilds back into a voice strong enough to stand inside its own sentence.
Surviving the Empty
I learned early how to survive absence, how to leave without drama. Quiet, deliberate, and alone, I mastered the art of withdrawing. Rooms emptied. Voices faded. Doors closed. This is a reflection on solitude, early lessons in leaving, and the quiet skill of surviving the empty spaces life leaves behind.
Non-Personhood |
Memories of a Child Raised in a Blind Spot
I was an invisible child, shaped by abuse and neglect. I learned to disappear, to protect my sisters, and to survive a household that couldn’t give me what I needed. This is my story of anger, memory, and reclaiming the self I was taught not to have.