C-PTSD
- Zoë Ariel Dunning
- Apr 22
- 3 min read
Wading through thick puddles of my weeping chest, I’m hot wax melting, crayola bleeding, a record that skips at the best part, iron sharpened too hard

“You’re so strong. You’re a survivor.”
I’m the strong one
I move mountains
I’m not nervous
I’m as tough as
The crust of the Earth is
But under the surface
Blood-boiling
Pressure rising
I’m a hot head threatening to erupt
Causing cataclysmic devastation
I’m a broken cistern
That won’t stay filled
Flooding through cracks
With the force
Of my fears and insecurity
My defenses rise and fall
Rome wasn’t built in a day
But trauma quickly tore down
My carefully-constructed walls
Trauma didn’t grow me thicker skin
Slow drip death by
A thousand paper thin words
Slicing me like blades through the air
Thick as my breath
And blood dripping down my cheeks
I spent two years clinging to
Two-faced family
Broken men who broke me
And my past life
While the world shook and split apart
You would’ve had to
Pry them from my fists
And piece my stubborn bones
Back together again
Wading through thick puddles
Of my weeping chest
I’m hot wax melting
Crayola bleeding
A record that skips at the best part
Iron sharpened too hard
I have C-PTSD
It’s complex because
You would not BELIEVE
What I have lived through
I still don't
Brutal flashbacks around every turn
On every avenue
Waiting to carve me up
Every time I rest and take a breath
Survival comes with
Its own set of consequences
I survived, but not intact
Certain parts of me I’ll never get back
PTSD makes me wish sometimes
I had succumbed to death
Instead of continuing to
Stumble along
With the weight of my guilt and grief
I don’t know how much more
I can shoulder
I dream of never being called resilient
Again in my life
I’m exhausted by strength
I want support
I want softness
I want ease
Not patted on the back
For how well I take a hit
Or for how many
I have great community
But I'm not sure that will
Always be enough
In a collapsing economy
In a crumbling empire
In a brain that threatens nuclear meltdown
I hope I can produce something
Fruitful and worthwhile
From my suffering
So I don’t feel so worthless
But I don’t believe everything
Happens for a reason
What meaning can I make from
My assaults and rapes?
All the times I was hit and yelled at?
My years of abuse and bullying?
All the times I’ve been homeless
Since I was kicked out
For being queer?
The jobs I’ve been denied?
The people I’ve lost for being trans?
The bigoted family
I no longer speak to
Because we can’t even look
At each other
With love anymore?
The fucking evangelical
Doomsday cult
That moulded me from birth?
My crippling disabilities?
The aching, gaping
Void in my chest?
The black hole that crushes
Anything I try to fill it with?
What about being born
Into the “wrong” body?
How about the relentless violence
Toward my communities?
None of that has happened
For some cosmic, necessary “reason”
I’ll never know who I would’ve been
If I wasn’t forced to endure it
But I guess
Existence is resistance!
Or whatever
So I stubbornly stay alive
As a fuck you to God
I want to outlast my abusers
But I don’t wish this pain on
On my worst enemies
I just want some respite
Please, I’m pleading with you
Spirit guides
The universe
Whoever
Lately I've been feeling like
I'm kinda just done with life
I've seen too much already
If there are other lives
After this one to look forward to
(Or dread)
I'd rather skip ahead
If nothingness awaits me
I welcome my fate gladly
Give me Eden
Over this unforgiving wasteland
Any day
I've never wanted there to be
An afterlife
Even when I believed that heaven
Was my final destination
But that’s a fool’s paradise
You mean I have to live...forever?!?
No thanks, 25 years already
Feels like an eternity
I’m a prisoner to my mind
And I’m banging on the bars
Begging to get out
I don't know if I'll ever be released
Until the relief hits me
When I see the end on the horizon

"Mind Prisoner" by Melinda on Indulgy.com
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