• jess

Introduce yourself, Che

Doing something new. I'm giving a section of the blog to my MF Che, AKA Doanya.


She's super active in the Discord community. She offers a lot of knowledge and support to everyone. She's always reading, researching, writing, and creating in the name of CPTSD. She deserves to have her poetic, gritty, gitfucked, words heard. So this is her platform now, too.


And I asked her to make a brief introduction.


Meet Che.


Follow her project here:

Che Doanya - outside the lines

https://www.facebook.com/doanyaoutsidethelines


Seriously? I suppose it should be concise, ha… I’m a wordy fucker with multiple facets having lived through a variety of major key changes, codas, crescendos, time changes, verses, a chorus, and a bridge...at the very least...and I really don’t care to be concise.


So, my one page introduction to my story...it’s a story that can’t be told in a linear fashion, because I don't think that way, but I’ve got stories to tell and I’ve learned some shit that might help someone along the way and it’s for that reason I’m willing to put myself out here and look like a fool. It is what it is and I am what I am and what I’m learning to be.

I was born in the southwest corner of Missouri in 1963 to a family of moderate mainstream Baptists.


I don’t know much about my father’s family and was raised by the women of my mother’s side.


My father had a problem with alcohol, he was an actor, and a twin.


My mother was the oldest of three girls. I don’t know the extent of her trauma but she divorced my father after he attempted suicide, left the hospital, tried to come home, threw a heavy glass ashtray across the room barely missing my head, among other drama. She said I used to hide in the closet when he came home...drunk…


My sister was born two years and two months after my birth. We were not like each other at all, my sister and I. She was girly and liked dolls and ballet. I was a tomboy, liked cars and dirt, trees and streams. We fought like siblings and we were fiercely together against the parental units when the shit got crazy.


After the divorce my mom went to nursing school and started dating a married man. It was a long courtship for them as he took us all camping, on trips to The Grand Canyon, Petrified Forest, Mexico, Disneyland, and SeaWorld. He groomed the family over the course of several years and once they eventually got married the family unit became a house of horror.

After the divorce my mom went to nursing school and started dating a married man. It was a long courtship for them as he took us all camping, on trips to The Grand Canyon, Petrified Forest, Mexico, Disneyland, and SeaWorld. He groomed the family over the course of several years and once they eventually got married the family unit became a house of horror.


He brought an adopted child from his first marriage into the family, a son and he was favored until they had another child when I was thirteen.


At one point before I left the family, we ran away from home together, stayed hidden together for a few days and got taken to juvenile detention together. We didn’t leave detention together, my fault...a story for another day. Shortly after I did get released back into mom’s custody, I was given to my grandma and allowed to move. That may have saved my life. My sister and I went different ways and yet we maintained a close friendship until after I came out as queer and she became more religious.


At one point before I left the family, we ran away from home together, stayed hidden together for a few days and got taken to juvenile detention together. We didn’t leave detention together, my fault...a story for another day. Shortly after I did get released back into mom’s custody, I was given to my grandma and allowed to move. That may have saved my life. My sister and I went different ways and yet we maintained a close friendship until after I came out as queer and she became more religious.

Fast forward to 2019 and I came out as an atheist after years of religious trauma, doubt and questions and while I’m deconstructing my supernatural beliefs I find my sister going down the Qanon rabbit hole… the differences couldn’t be further apart.


As I’ve struggled with reframing everything I thought I knew about the world, learning about not only my religious trauma, but also my PTSD diagnosis and more about how trauma ...well... more about trauma.


So, my one page introduction to my story...it’s a story that can’t be told in a linear fashion, because I don't think that way, but I’ve got stories to tell and I’ve learned some shit that might help someone along the way and it’s for that reason I’m willing to put myself out here and look like a fool.


It is what it is and I am what I am and what I’m learning to be.


Traumatized Motherfxckers

Not doomed. Not damaged.

Not dead yet.

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