Quotes About Trauma

Only a man who's been burned knows what hell is truly like.

When you have known the kiss of a flaying knife, a laugh loses all its power to hurt you.

I'm not him, I'm not the turncloak, he died at Winterfell. My name is Reek, It rhymes with freak

Often, even with a deep cut, the blood came before the pain.

Years later, the trauma of those experiences continued to haunt me. Most Japanese Americans from my parents' generation didn't like to talk about the internment with their children. As with many traumatic experiences, they were anguished by their memories and haunted by shame for something that wasn't their fault. Shame is a cruel thing. It should rest on the perpetrators but they don't carry it the way the victims do.

As with many traumatic experiences, they were anguished by their memories and haunted by shame for something that wasn't their fault. Shame is a cruel thing. It should rest on the perpetrators but they don't carry it the way victims do.

What became clear to me though, is that my white colleague had not experienced racialized trauma. My colleague was threatened because of his exercise of courageous speech. But his whiteness remained unmarked. The objective here is not to judge who suffered more, me or my white colleague. Rather it is important to recognize the specifically white racist hatred that I encountered. How my Black body was assaulted. My white colleague was threatened, but his whiteness was not under attack.

For me, it feels as if Black embodied existence is in a constant and unrelenting state of trauma.

Well, they say trauma etches the neurons, and I was traumatized by my appalling behavior." Typical, Theo thought. He'd been accused, yet she was traumatized.

. . . 'twill turn your eyeballs black and blue.

I believe that this neglected, wounded inner child of the past is the major source of human misery.

Most people go through life dreading they'll have a traumatic experience.

Every time people come at us with the intention of killing us, I close my eyes and wait for death, part of me dies. Very soon I will completely die and all that will be left is my empty body walking with you. It will be quieter than I am.

Every time people come at us with the intention of killing us, I close my eyes and wait for death. Even though I am still alive, I feel like each time I accept death, part of me dies. Very soon I will completely die and all that will be left is my empty body walking with you. It will be quieter than I am.

Our innocence had been replaced by fear and we had become monsters. There was nothing we could do about it.

I would try desperately to think about my childhood, but I couldn't. The war memories had formed a barrier that I had to break in order to think

I don't remember, and I don't want to remember. I've been a victim, and once you have, you need to do whatever it takes not to be one again

The statute of limitations . . . She's put it behind her. Or I hope she has." She'd have put it behind her, Eve thought, but it was always behind you. In a corner, in the dark. Squatting there behind you and chuckling in its throat.

Creepy. If I ever did that, popped a kid out—which I think is probably as pleasant a process as having your eyeballs pierced by burning, poisonous sticks, I'd say, 'Whoopee, let's do this again?' Have you recently suffered head trauma?" "Not to my knowledge." "Could be coming. Any second.

maybe Reineke would've survived the blast—then he'd never have gotten over surviving it

Never is he going to be his old self again. Never is he going to have his old resilience. Whatever inside him was given the task of mending the organism after it was so terribly assaulted, first on the road, then in the operating theatre, has grown too tired of the job, too overburdened. And the same holds for the rest of the team, the lungs, the heart, the muscles, the brain. They did for him what they could as long as they could; now they want to rest.

Lucy was frightened, frightened near to death. Her voice choked, she could not breath, her limbs went numb. This is not happening, she said to herself as the men forced her down; it is just a dream, a nightmare. While the men, for their part, drank up her fear, revelled in it, did all they could to hurt her, to menace her, to heighten her terror. Call your dogs! they said to her. Go on, call your dogs! No dogs? Then let us show you dogs!

Life is such a glorious trauma, is it not?

What happened to you? she asked. I got hit in the side. With what? A knife.