Flashback (revisited)

This short story is a great tribute to people who have suffered. I thought the demonstration of how to help a person regain safety was encouraging. One step at a time from a person who has been there. I’m very lucky to have found my Vic, he has encouraged me to grow beyond the dark times with loving kindness.

Brave & Reckless

This prose piece could be triggering for readers with a history of trauma and flashbacks.


It is the flood of emotion that always makes me flee.  I am scared, angry, unsafe, fighting panic and the need to flee like a wounded gazelle being chased by a lion.  The triggers are unpredictable but the reaction is not.  It is like someone is ripping my chest open, using a rib spreader, exposing the fragile membranes around my heart to the glare of light.  I clutch my hand to my chest, as though I can hold the gaping edges of my body closed the way one would the sides of an unbuttoned shirt.

Gratefully, I make it to the sanctuary of the bedroom before the tears start to escape.  I do not turn on the light.  The key is to make myself small.  I sit on the floor, back against the bed, feet…

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