I am fascinated by memories. As something with complex PTSD, I have intrusive memories. Snippets of a time past that force themselves into my present, pushing me back into the past.
I get frustrated and angry when people don’t hold space for me after I have shared a hard truth with them. What is wrong with them? I needed them, and they were not there. Is it they don’t know what holding space means? Perhaps, so let’s clear that question up. Read on.
Time. As a trauma survivor, my perception of time is confusing. In a moment, I can be whisked back in time. But, then, my reactions are not based on my present but on the past.