We trauma survivors can have a little habit. Avoidance. I know. I’ve been there. For many years I burrowed myself into every other person and/or project that distracted my mind away from myself. I was so frightened by what I had to face in myself; the pain, the anger, the memories of a tortured childhood, … Continue reading It Starts Inside
I know grieving is for the ones left behind, but I gotta get the pain out, bro and right now, I can only cry it out like I used to, pouring it out in small novella text convos.
I am in a full blown battle with food addiction.
"My little mind was already trying to reason his abuse of me. I remember thinking, “He thinks I am my mom. It's ok.”
I used to harbor a lot of hate toward my mother. Let me tell you something. Hate only hurts yourself and others. It is not a shield. It comes with no solutions. It is fueled by anger and should only be felt righteously; such as HATING child rapists. In my mind the only perspective I … Continue reading Healing Yourself Heals the World
Collage Book by Vennie Kocsis Collage art is a medium which I feel most in harmony with. For me, it’s akin to throwing runes and letting the story emerge on its own. I picked up some outdated pocket planners from Half Price Books to up-cycle into new books. Below is a time-lapse video of my … Continue reading “I’m Kind Of a Big Deal: We’re Talking Cover-up”
This past decade has been filled with many turns in the bumpy road I have traveled. I have pushed through deep depressions and sad realizations about this human existence. I have absorbed and grown my mindfulness and ability to receive and give love. I have waded through dissociative disorder peaks, organizing the many compartments of … Continue reading The Eye Of the Mother
Skeletons remain in the spaces beneath the pain. My brain becomes a seismograph of moving timelines and opportunities to rewind. I enter the dark caverns armed. This is no place for charm or niceties. This is a war to be fought by a single army. I am one with what was formed. I go quiet … Continue reading Skeletons Remain
I am nobody. Nobody is perfect. Therefore I am perfect.
We are not mercy. We are strength. We are not bitterness. We are valiance.
What Buddy Cobb did to my sister was nothing less than abhorrent.
venniekocsis.com 
You must be logged in to post a comment.