Quotes About Trauma

her final words seem to ripple outward like waves of water from a thrown stone—don't remember don't remember don't remember don'trememberdon't "Remember?

Trauma waits for stillness. Lydia feels like a cracked egg, and she doesn't know if she's the shell or the yolk or the white. She is scrambled.

This is a cycle, she thinks. Every day a fresh horror, and when it's over, this feeling of surreal detachment. A disbelief, almost, in what they just endured. The mind is magical. Human beings are magical.

No one can stay in a brutal, bloodstained place.

The flashbacks dump adrenaline into her bloodstream a hundred times a day, so her body is helpfully exhausted.

They're both smart, quick to learn. But their lives have been so expansive, their traumas so adult. They are young women and now they're meant to clip themselves into a three-ring binder each day. They're meant to hang their jackets in lockers and flirt with boys in the hallways. They're supposed to regress into shapes that were never familiar to them.

Trauma waits for stillness.

Jeanine Cummins

from the glass, 'Abuela,' and renews his attack

They perceive each other, the unspoken trauma they've both endured, their reasons for being here. It's as subtle and significant as a heartbeat.

It's the bond of trauma, the bond of sharing an indescribable experience together. Whatever happens, no one else in their lives will ever fully comprehend the ordeal of this pilgrimage, the characters they've met, the fear that travels with them, the grief and fatigue that eat at them. Their collective determination to keep pressing north.

Febrile patients with head trauma, subarachnoid hemorrhage, or stroke should receive antipyretics to prevent temperature-related increases in cerebral oxygen utilization.

Trauma is as subjective as desire, and the meanings we attribute to experiences, as well as the context in which they occur, determine their ultimate effect on our lives.

After all I'd been through, I didn't need to be wiping other people's eyeballs off my cheek.

I am going to make you hurt so badly you'll wish your mother had been skinned alive by your father before they had a chance to conceive you.

But when we experience pain or trauma, we're acutely aware that something is wrong. You want answers. "What is this? How do I get rid of this? Why is this happening to me? I don't want this." That's why so much art, and music, in particular, becomes a great commiserating balm for pain. Joy doesn't need to be audited. We're just grateful to have had it at all. But pain, goddammit, we demand to know Who's responsible for this?

Si moría esa noche, sólo ella sabría el horror de su muerte y el horror de su vida frente al asesino que la acechaba desde el rincón más remoto de su memoria.

Mental suffering occurs when a child is psychologically abused. If a parent calls a child names, constantly belittles the child, blocks every effort on the part of the child to accept him/herself, this can cause mental suffering to the child. Threat of abandonment can also make the child anxious and afraid, and is another form of mental suffering.

If you were physically or sexually abused, you may have learned to "turn off" body pain or sensations. You may have gone "into a trance" when being beaten or sexually abused to protect yourself from the pain. These were survival skills that helped you stay safe. You may not need these skills anymore.

Some adults abused as children feel pressure to outperform everybody else. They believe that they must try harder and work harder because they are not as good. They may feel driven and obsessed.

Other adults abused as children do the opposite: they believe they can accomplish nothing, so they don't try. They hold themselves back from taking chances because it is safer. Since success often makes one more important and visible to others, and since visibility is associated with being hurt, success means danger.

They are committing the greatest indignity human beings can inflict on one another: telling people who have suffered excruciating pain and loss that their pain and loss were illusions. (v)

One day when I was able to get up, I decided to look at myself in the mirror on the opposite wall. I had not seen myself since the ghetto. From the depths of the mirror, a corpse was contemplating me. The look in his eyes as he gazed at me has never left me.

Never shall I forget those moments that murdered my God and my soul and turned my dreams to ashes.