Frozen Tears: Psychodrama in the Resolution of Trauma and Grief By Tian Dayton PhD‚ TEP “The deepest pain has no words‚” echoes the ancient Chinese proverb. Today’s trauma theorists‚ it would seem‚ agree. Time stands still and so do we when something frightening is happening that doesn’t fit into our framework for “normal.” We freeze like a deer in the headlights- locked in a trauma response that was coded into us from the beginning of survival‚ from the earliest development of the human brain
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Isabel and Joe were in the restaurant since Isabel wept on that afternoon because Joe desired her but they were poor and could not marry. The reason was that they both had miserable jobs‚ the futile night studies and Joe’s sick parents. Joe worked as a clerk in publishing house and received meager salary‚ which he spent to his sick parents while Isabel was as assistant librarian to Mrs. Suntay‚ in a small children library. They first met when theirs a show in the library where Joe appeared selling
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My Additional Chapter “Are you done yet?” asked Machine Lady‚ in an unprofessional manner. Her eyes were glaring at Sade and Femi and it looked as if Machine Lady was going to swallow them up if they didn’t move any minute. Although Sade was startled inside‚ she tried her best not to show it. It was clear that Machine Lady was waiting for an answer. Sade cleared her throat and tried to make a sound. No sound came out. She tried again‚ giving more of an effort to do so. A sound came out and Machine
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The recent summer rainstorms have transformed the roadways‚ of Wrongberight a rural hamlet on the eastern shores of Virginia‚ into a never-ending slip and slide. Late Saturday afternoon‚ vivacious Clemmy Sue Jarvis‚ a petite woman of sixty three‚ cautiously pulled out of her driveway‚ and slowly turned south on to Flat Bottom Road. She maneuvered the rain soaked road with great care. Nevertheless‚ fifty yards from her dearest friend Estelle Louise’s long dirt driveway‚ her rusty Chevy pickup‚ that
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“ Y/N wait!” My feet hit the cold tile and I frantically grabbed my coat off the floor. “No Dan! I”m Sick of all your lies‚ “Going out to get groceries” “Hanging out with Phil” I’m not just going to stay around and being treated this way!” I grab my phone and throw some mix matched shoes on‚ going so fast that I don’t care what I look like just wanting to get out of there. I grab the door handle and swing it open. “Wait...I...I” I sigh and lean against the door frame every
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Crafting and Executing Strategy BUS599: Assignment #1 DeAndre Liggans Strayer University Dr. Phyllis Parise July 08‚ 2013 Introduction No More Weeping‚ LLC “Like A Tree That Bends‚ But Doesn’t Break” Weeping may endure for a night‚ but joy cometh in the morning. Psalms 30:5 No More Weeping‚ LLC a non-profit organization was founded by De’Andre & Shonda Lovett-Liggans in July of 2013 as a result of the huge success of the founder’s
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A HOUSE ON FIRE It was the month of October. The weather was delightfully cool. I was sleeping soundly. All of sudden‚ I was disturbed in my sleep by loud cries of ‘fire ‚fire’. I sprang out of window. I was people with pails and buckets‚ running out of the burning house. On enquiry‚ I learnt that the palatial double-storeyed house of my neighbour‚ Mr. Sharma ‚ was on fire. I ran downstairs with a bucket. I no time‚ I reached the place of occurrence. It was a heart-rending sight. The newly-built
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Chandler Hoffman Professor Turley Writing 150 Section 5 25 September 2012 The Pressures of Finding Salvation Langston Hughes’ story “Salvation” is one that raises many questions about his life and childhood experiences. Hughes patterns this story to portray the pressures that caused his faith to be lost. Hughes sat on the mourners’ bench waiting for God to save him but‚ due to these pressures‚ he chose to stand and pretend that he found his salvation. Pressure is the influences of outside sources
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Johnny It was a big lid. All those years I believed he was gone forever. All those months I spent crying alone in my room‚ reading about his adventures he wrote down for me. Only to find out that he was still there. Anywhere. But there. Johnny‚ that’s what I decided to call my new furry friend‚ barked in his sleep. It seemed like he was dreaming. I did not want to wake him up. I leaned back in my chair and took a deep breath. Down here in my hideout‚ the air was a lot cooler than outside. I spent
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Reading Reflection Natasha S. King ENG 125 Introduction to Literature Professor Demeterius Meyers October 29‚ 2012 I chose to reflect on Kate Chopins‚ “The Story of an Hour” for this assignment. It is about a woman finding out from her sister and friend that her husband was killed in a railroad accident. She initially appears very grief stricken and cries out in her sister’s arms. Not long after she retreats alone to her bedroom. While in her room she realizes that although she loved
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