…they took me to the hospital and some small part of my mind wanted to go. Some small part of me. Small parts—that’s all we really are, aren’t we? And in the grand scheme of things this is all insignificant. We’re just statistics. Facts. Bodies filing into clinics for revival and pills and assessment. A small part of me wants to lay in a hospital bed for the rest of my life, watching tubes feed into and out of me; white coats, white blankets, white. Fix me, medical people.
–Amy Jo “Small Parts”
Welcome to my blog on PTSD & Creative Writing. I have found that writing is a big part of getting out a narrative when you have lost your own story, or you are looking to start a new one. PTSD is hard. I have had it for six years now (complex type), along with Bipolar 2, dissociation, and ADHD I was in college for Writing when I began writing about my past, and I had to drop out, because the disorder and illnesses were getting their grip. And after several years of tranquilizers and antipsychotics and ICK-seroquel, of basically living in survival mode, I began writing again. And now I am writing because it is a craft I have always needed to do, and I am using it to heal. Adult survivors of childhood sexual physical and emotional abuse have a tough, long road.
Our narratives were never there, they were scripted for us by abusive adults. Write your story, write your memories, write it as if it were a book, make the narrative come to life–for me it helps piece together the past and open up a hopeful path into the future.