trauma recovery
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Everyone talks about the bad days. The ones where you can’t get out of bed. Where a text message sends you into a spiral. Where your body decides that today, for no discernible reason, is the day to remember *everything* at once. Those days get talked about. Written about. Validated. However, nobody talks about the…
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Today, I’m 37. Not just older, though. Different. Quieter in some ways. Louder in others. Sharper. Softer. Less afraid to be both. This year’s birthday has been about pausing just long enough to look at where I’ve been, what I’ve carried, and who I’m finally allowing myself to become. What I’ve Survived (Especially With CPTSD)…