Quotes About Trauma

The concussive force of grenades rattled men's brains to the point of madness.

How does anyone sleep?" "You don't hear them after a while," Martin said." You get used to it." Maybe Martin had, new to Berlin. But what about the others, who remembered huddling in shelters every night , waiting to die, listening to the engine sounds how near?-the whining thrust as the nose was pulled up, free of the weight of it bombs, now floating somewhere overhead.

We who have seen war, will never stop seeing it. In the silence of the night, we will always hear the screams. So this is our story, for we were soldiers once, and young

We who have seen war will never stop seeing it.

Do you remember when Frostpaw got scratched in her eye by that stick?

Para mim, a escola tinha sido um exercício darwiniano. Um ataque diário de ridicularização, abuso e isolamento.

too, would never ever go visit their country. Because when he went with his parents to Germany fifty years ago everything looked nice, but it ended in hell.

People have short memories, he said, especially when bad things are concerned. People tend to forget, he said, but you won't forget.

Every night I had nightmares. I dreamed of rats the size of cats, dead bodies, and needles stuck into me. After we found out that the Nazi's had made soup out of Jewish fat, I dreamed that soap bars spoke to me in the voices of my parents and sisters, asking me, "Why are you washing with us?

forgiveness is not so much for the perpetrator, but for the victim.

He was covered with whip marks, oozing blood. They had burned his fingernails and toenails with the flame of candles. It took him many days to recover.

Los granos se nos enterraron en la piel de las rodillas, pero eso no fue lo que más nos lastimó.

It is not so easy to move on when your sleep is full of nightmarish memories.

and I was thinking of what it would be like to have such a wound, to lift up the bottom of my shirt at school and have bandages to show, white brushstrokes on belly, when a horrendous force Huhhh catapulted me forward and my neck whipped back and I crumbled down to the pavement and my entire face began to cry;

I am one of the 11.5% of New Yorkers who remain traumatized by the events of September 11.

I'm pretty good at remaining calm during an emergency. My house burned down when I was 12, which made me really pragmatic about what needed to be done. But I can be bad in that I compartmentalize a lot of emotions and push them away to deal with them at a later date.

When I jerked it out the head remained in my leg, where it remains still. There were a couple of inches of blood on the shaft of the arrow when I pulled it out.

I was in New York City on 9/11. Grief remains from that awful day, but not only grief. There is fear, too, a fear informed by the knowledge that whatever my worst nightmare is, there is someone out there embittered enough to carry it out.

I hate light... I feel like at night, it's safer. If anything happens, there's a way to hide at night. Another thing I hate about light is it reminds me about being in a refugee camp and being outside.

You cannot get PTSD from reading a book or from hearing a story, even repeated stories over and over.

'S21' was a film about corporeal memory and how the same gestures repeated many times years earlier can be reawakened.

David Lynch's 'Fire Walk With Me' has a scene in it that scared me so bad that I don't remember it. I blocked the memory out - repeatedly! I've seen the film two or three times, and I can never remember what it is that scares me.

I've had success, but I'm still haunted by the fear of being hungry. Once you've lived it it never leaves you.

I was adopted by a Salvadorian mother and a white father. Growing up having complete identity crisis. Then my search for my mother and trying to find out why I was given up, and how could a mother give up a child, then finding out the circumstances of my birth was pretty traumatizing.