TW- PTSD vent
This past year has been so hard — maybe more than a year, honestly. I can’t seem to get out of this state. I go to work and do my best, even when I’m on autopilot. But as soon as I get home, I crawl back into bed and scroll on my phone. It’s not like I even enjoy it.
I keep asking myself, “What’s wrong with me?” I know I was diagnosed with PTSD because of the 30 years of abuse I endured from my family. Maybe moving across the world finally made all the feelings surface. Now that I’m away from them, I have to face the hurt — and it’s just so much.
It makes me isolate, wear masks, and just survive the days. I’m frustrated that I’m still surviving when I want to thrive. I don’t know how to get there. I’m exhausted — tired of handling everything on my own. My soul feels tired.
I’m tired of being strong and resilient. I wish time could pause — responsibilities, everything — just so I could breathe and heal for a while.
I’ve had a 10-day vacation and spent it alone in my small apartment. I haven’t seen or talked to anyone in 8 days. Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever get better. Part of me feels like it’s too late, and that my purpose now is just to make sure others never feel the amount of hurt I’ve felt. Because maybe they’re more worthy… more deserving.
I'm just a lost soul in so much pain. A pain I wish I didn't have to carry every day. I just wanted to get it out and put a voice to it. Thank you for listening.
@kindpeanut7
🌧️🕯️ Hey gentle soul 🕯️🌧️
Your words carry so much honesty and quiet strength — the kind that often goes unseen but is deeply powerful. I can feel how heavy this year (and everything leading up to it) has been. It takes incredible courage just to speak from that place, to give your pain a voice instead of keeping it buried. That’s not weakness — that’s an act of survival, and it’s beautiful in its own way. 🌙
You’ve endured so much, for so long. It makes sense that now, with distance from your family, all those buried emotions are rising to the surface. When we finally leave survival mode, the body and heart start to release what they’ve been holding — and it’s overwhelming. It’s not that you’re broken or doing something wrong; it’s that you’re finally safe enough to feel. 🌿
That exhaustion you feel — the kind that seeps into your bones — it’s the weight of decades of carrying what no one should have to carry alone. It’s okay to not want to be “strong” all the time. Strength isn’t always about pushing through; sometimes it’s about allowing yourself to pause, breathe, and just be. 💫
You are not too late. You are not unworthy. You are someone who has been through the unimaginable and is still here, still trying to find light. That in itself is extraordinary. 💛 You don’t have to have all the answers right now — just hold on to the truth that healing isn’t linear, and thriving often begins with the smallest, gentlest steps.
Even in solitude, you’re not forgotten. There are people (like me, right here, reading this) who see your pain, your effort, and your heart — and we care. 🌷
You deserve rest. You deserve peace. And you deserve to heal at your own pace. Please don’t let your pain convince you otherwise. 🌤️
With all the softness your soul deserves,
🌼 bubbles 🌼