Trauma Said ‘Live, Laugh, Dissociate,’ and Honestly? I Did.

Welcome to the part of the internet where healing is sacred, but so is sarcasm. If you’re here, you’re either working through trauma or procrastinating while your nervous system spirals like a raccoon in a glitter factory. Either way—hi. Let’s talk.

Trauma: The Unpaid Intern Running Your Life

Trauma doesn’t knock. It breaks into your house, eats your snacks, and rewires your brain to flinch every time someone texts “can we talk?”

Suddenly:

• Your anxiety has its own zip code.

• You can’t relax unless you’re also being productive.

• Your nervous system is sponsored by cortisol and caffeine.

• You get emotionally waterboarded by a song that vaguely reminds you of your sophomore year.

Trauma is like malware downloaded during childhood and no one gave you the uninstall instructions.

You’re Not Broken. You’re Adaptive AF.

Here’s the truth: the fact that you’re still here—breathing, crying, laughing at memes about nervous breakdowns—is a miracle.

You’ve survived on:

• Pure stubbornness

• Excellent taste in sad playlists

• An inner child that refuses to die, even if she does occasionally spiral in Trader Joe’s

You are the emotional equivalent of duct tape and glitter. And it’s working.

Healing Is a Messy Little Dance Party

Healing isn’t a perfectly lit Instagram reel. It’s more like:

• Crying after setting a boundary

• Laughing mid-breakdown

• Googling “how to stop people-pleasing without becoming a sociopath”

It’s slow, sacred work. It’s ugly crying in your car between sessions. It’s rewriting your entire nervous system to say “I deserve peace” instead of “How can I be less of a burden?”

And guess what? That’s healing. Even when it feels like failure in a crop top.

You Don’t Owe the World Your Palatability

You are not here to be palatable. You are not here to shrink. You’re here to unlearn shame, practice joy, and maybe—just maybe—become the therapist your younger self didn’t get but absolutely deserved.

So if today you:

• Didn’t text your ex

• Brushed your teeth while dissociating

• Said “no” without a 14-paragraph apology

Then holy hell. You’re doing it. You’re healing. Proud of you. Even if your cat still judges your salmon burger.

Feeling Seen? Book a Session. Or Scream Into the Void—I’m Here for Both.

If any of this hit you right in the unresolved attachment style, you might be ready to work with someone who gets it. Someone who won’t flinch at your sarcasm, your rage, or the way you say “I’m fine” like it’s a trauma mantra.

👉 Let’s turn your emotional reckoning into a damn renaissance.

And remember: Healing isn’t about becoming someone new. It’s about coming home to who you were before the world told you to tone it down.