PTSD Childhood Trauma

byanniemd007
May 07,23
Anti-Obesity Medication, before and after, childhood trauma, Empty Nest, Girl Power, Grief, Middle Age Woman, Mommy Makeover, Motherhood, Obesity, Obesity Medication, Self-love, Social Media, Treatment of Obesity, Writer

Fly Girl

I’m all in my feels today. Let me count the ways: 1. I went back to work and I worked three in a row with some of my closest friends. They made it easy on me cuz they are all the strongest of nurses. It’s easy to be in charge…

byanniemd007
Jan 13,23
childhood trauma, Dreams, Grief, Loss, Love, Poetry, Psychic

Cut. Cut. Cut. 🖤

I write poems when I sleep. I woke up to words flowing in my dream, but I didn’t write them down in time. They flew away on gossamer wings and then they fell from the sky in cement shoes. Is it worth getting out of bed for this? My grandpa…

byanniemd007
Nov 14,22
Coming of Age, Grief, Love, Middle Aged Women, Motherhood, neglect, PTSD

Doorbell Ditch 🖤

So I haven’t felt like writing lately. I’ve been stuck in my head with thoughts that hide, even from myself. Unidentified tears sting but don’t fall, because if I admit why they are there or where they belong, it’s too much. Overwhelming. Sometimes, it’s all too much. And as you…

byanniemd007
Oct 04,22
abandonment, childhood trauma, Middle Aged Women, Motherhood, neglect, Road Trip

Burning Bridge 🖤

I’m stuck. I have been avoiding writing. This part has deep feelings, as they all do, but it’s not just nostalgia. It’s a story of bravery, growth, trust, and survival. For all of us. And deep blue pain, a shade different from the rest. We are at the point of…

byanniemd007
Sep 06,22
Middle Aged Women, Motherhood, neglect, Rafting

Riding the Rapids 🖤

My friend, Jen, gave me an icy cold Squirt in a can, yesterday. I haven’t had a Squirt in years. Like I can’t remember when. It was so good, especially in this 111 degree heat. Squirt reminds me of my childhood, which I seem to have been avoiding. My dad…

byanniemd007
Aug 15,22
childhood trauma, Love, Middle Aged Women, Motherhood, Plus Size Plastic Surgery, PTSD

Dill Chicken 🖤

It must have been 7th grade when we lived on 45th Street in East Sac. Not 45th and J. Not even 45th and H. More like 45th and F, if you know what I mean. Not the Lady Bird street. It was Doc’s house. He was nice enough, unless I…