PTSD
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The half growl/half crow of Eddie Vedder has long been a part of my own, personal war cry. It both fed and poured out my teenage angst—my frustration with the things that were senseless, wrong, and unjust in the world, and my desire to be free from all of the pain and confusion and devastation
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The journey to this moment has been long and hard and chaotic and sometimes frightening. So, now that I am here, I am paralyzed. This is certainly not the first time that I have fought my way through all sorts of trauma to find myself safe on the other side and stuck. Just stuck. It
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“There are low points. There are going to be low points. And if you can take me at the high points, then you also need to take me at the low points. That’s what I have to say.” My daughter uttered these words with passion and much arm movement a few moments ago. She was
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In therapy on Monday, I said to my therapist, “I’m done! I’m done.” And that was immediately followed by the expression, “I don’t even know what that means, because I am not going to kill myself, so I don’t know what I am done with, per se, or what I am quitting, exactly.” I’m relatively
