drglenndoyle

Gotta start somewhere to get somewhere.

For years, we were doing our best with what we had. 

There’s no shame in that. 

Many of us trauma survivors fall into this trap of shaming and blaming ourselves for struggling in the past. 

We tell ourselves we “could” have or “should” have done better, sooner. 

We tell ourselves we could have gotten out of situations. 

We tell ourselves we could have made better choices. 

We tell ourselves we could have just done better in life. 

The reality is, many of us were functioning remarkably well, given what we were dealing with. 

The reality is, many of us were doing more than anyone could have reasonably expected of us, given the lack of safety and support we endured. 

The reality is, many of us STILL overachieved relative to our peers— even while telling ourselves we “should” be doing “better.” 

You and I only had to work with what we had to work with. 

Our coping patterns represented our attempts to make chicken salad out of chicken sh*t. 

How on earth were we supposed to develop emotional regulation, when the adults around us were anything but regulated? 

How were we supposed to escape defensive, self-defeating relationship patterns, when we never saw healthy relationships modeled?

How were we supposed to set goals and work toward them in realistic increments, when the expectations of us were arbitrary and constantly changing? 

None of this is an “excuse.” 

It’s just the reality that many of us had to work with. 

There was, and is, no shame in doing what we can with what we have. 

The only difference between a survivor who is further along in our trauma recovery and a survivor who is struggling in early recovery is that the more experienced survivor has tools and perspectives that early recovery survivor doesn’t yet have. 

It’s not shameful to lack tools you were never given. 

It’s not shameful to not be good at things you never had the opportunity to practice. 

Here, now, you and I are learning and practicing trauma recovery tools grounded in realistic, recovery supporting self-talk, mental focus, and physiology. 

We’re giving ourselves the grace to be as inexperienced with them as we are, and the room to grow as we practice and develop them. 

That’s what trauma recovery truly is: an ongoing process of realistic, sustainable learning. 

As it turns out, learning doesn’t happen if we’re busy shaming ourselves for not knowing what we didn’t know, or not being able to do what we couldn’t do. 

I know, it’s not always fun to be a learner. Believe me, I know. 

Being a work in progress sometimes sucks. We want to be the master, who whips out skills and tools effortlessly and intuitively. 

We’ll get there. 

But the first step to being good at something, is sucking at it. 

Gotta start somewhere to get somewhere. 

Dare to suck today. 

Breathe; blink; focus. 

drglenndoyle

What to do about that pesky “freeze” response.

When we’re trying to shake out of a “freeze” response, we have to think small. 

After all, frozen things don’t “melt” all at once. 

And, for that matter, you can’t “force” a frozen thing to melt. 

To me the best way of getting out of a freeze state starts with wiggling my pinky finger. 

Not even a wag— just a little, teeny, tiny movement. 

The essence of “freeze” is that a part of us believes if we move, we’ll be seen, and we’ll be in danger. 

It’s like that scene in “Jurassic Park,” when Dr. Gran asserts that the tyrannosaurus’s vision is based on movement— so to staying still means staying safe. 

Our nervous system has no interest in suddenly, charismatically bursting out of that “freeze” state. That would feel overwhelmingly dangerous. 

What our nervous system needs is a little, teeny, tiny bit of proof that it’s safe to move. 

We can give that to it, by wiggling our little finger. 

It’s such a teeny, tiny movement, and usually one we can manage, even when we’re “frozen.” 

Not only does wiggling our little finger start building momentum, but, more importantly, it demonstrates to our nervous system that movement is safe. 

We wiggled our little finger, and the world didn’t end. The T-Rex didn’t eat us. 

That being the case, our nervous system might let us wiggle a few adjacent fingers— just testing the waters, seeing if it’s safe. 

That’s how we get out of “freeze”— not by telling, but by showing, our nervous system that movement is safe. 

We wiggle our little finger; then a few more fingers; then maybe we open and close our hand 

Then maybe we move around our wrist a little; then maybe we move our forearm. 

Bit by bit, body part by body part. Imagine your body parts warming up, after being physically cold and frozen. 

Imagine how you might gently, gingerly move your body parts, to get warmth and circulation moving again. 

You wouldn’t aggressively jerk or shake your fingers or other body parts if they’d been frozen or had fallen asleep. You’d be gentle. You’d move from little appendage to progressively bigger ones. 

We need to meet every trauma response, including “freeze,” with validation and respect— not a demand that it immediately change. 

Trauma responses are not “choices,” and they don’t happen for the hell of it. 

Meeting our “freeze” response with gentle, tiny movement that gets progressively bigger is us meeting it with care. It’s us working with our nervous system and “parts,” not against them. 

So— don’t overthink “freeze.” 

Just wiggle your pinkie finger. 

And then go from there. 

drglenndoyle

Trauma, choices, and “choices.”

Ever not been your best self? Me too. 

Ever had your trauma symptoms contribute to you not being your best self? Me too. 

The fact that sometimes our trauma symptoms contribute to us not being our best self, doesn’t negate our responsibility in those situations. 

And, the fact that we’re responsible for our behavior doesn’t negate the fact that trauma can contribute to our vulnerability to certain moods and decisions. 

It’s complicated. 

Many of us walk around feeling guilty for even having trauma symptoms. 

Those aren’t, actually, our fault or “choice.” 

The choices we DO have often get obscured by our trauma symptoms— by how overwhelming they are, by how painful they are. 

Some of us made poor “choices” because we truly didn’t see any survivable alternatives. 

Some of us made certain choices because we did not have the safety or support to realistically choose otherwise. 

And some of us made certain choices because we were never taught how to make different choices. 

As a rule, I’m not a fan of shaming ourselves over our supposed “choices.” 

Whether we could have made different choices or not— we didn’t. And we can’t change the past. 

Shame is just not an effective behavior change lever, in my experience. Not for long, and not without destructive side effects, anyway. 

And but also, I am a big fan of identifying choices we do realistically have. 

We do have choices when it comes to self-acceptance. 

We do have choices when it comes to living consciously or going on autopilot. 

We do have choices when it comes to learning about our basic needs— predictability, novelty, significance, connection, growth, and contribution— and making teeny, tiny micro choices every day that move toward meeting our needs. 

We do have choices when it comes to acknowledging, validating, and communicating with our “parts,” including our dissociative self-states. 

We don’t have the choice to just not have CPTSD or DID. 

We don’t have the choice to forget or “stuff” our past experiences indefinitely. 

We don’t have the choice to just not do any of this “trauma recovery” stuff, and expect to be safe and stable. 

Sometimes we’re not our best self, and sometimes our trauma symptoms contribute to that. That’s reality. That describes everybody reading this, and definitely the person writing this. 

Realistic trauma recovery hinges on identifying and leaning into the choices we realistically have. 

(Notice Trauma Brain piping up right now, telling you you actually don’t have any meaningful choices? That’s Trauma Brain being predictable and tiresome— and a pretty good indication that you have more choices than Trauma Brain has let you believe over the years.)

Breathe; blink; focus. 

drglenndoyle

Trauma Brain is neither “objective” nor “reliable.”

Don’t mistake Trauma Brain for a reliable source of information. 

Trauma Brain is the internalized voices of our abusers and bullies. 

It’d be like if our abusers and bullies bought a cable news network, the subject of which was us and our lives. 

All day, every day, their reporters would produce stories about us— but do you think those stories would be accurate, coming from our abusers and bullies? 

Not hardly. 

They’d probably focus disproportionately on how we suck. 

They’d focus on how our problems were our fault— and definitely not the fault of our abusers and bullies, who just happen to own the network. 

Those stories would focus on how we’re probably doing life entirely wrong— especially if we’re working a trauma recovery and trying to break free of our bullies’ and abusers’ influence. 

If our bullies and abusers had a cable news network, that’s what we’d expect. 

What we need to understand is that the cable news network that our bullies and abusers do have, and which is broadcasting 24/7/365, is Trauma Brain. 

Trauma Brain is particularly tricky, too, because it is the result of conditioning over time— meaning we often don’t realize that what we’re “hearing” from it is anything other than our own, spontaneous, “natural” thoughts. 

We readily acknowledge when a cable news network run by people with whom we disagree, runs news stories with a particular “slant.” 

We understand that cable news networks that have an agenda are going to omit certain facts and spin others, such that their point of view is strengthened.

I’m telling you, Trauma Brain is doing that right now, inside the head of every survivor. 

Trauma Brain omits facts. 

Trauma Brain spins other facts. 

Trauma Brain is NOT an objective source of information, any more than the cable news network run by your least favorite political actors is. 

Yet, we know that the biases and agendas of cable news networks don’t keep some people from watching them, and believing everything they broadcast. 

Any smart, objective person understands that the real truth is probably not what is being broadcast by those networks. 

And survivors who succeed at trauma recovery understand that Trauma Brain is not so much a truth-seeker or truth-teller, as it it is a spin doctor or an advertising executive. 

Trauma Brain is in the business of persuasion and coercion— not information. 

Yes, Trauma Brain can be convincing. So can cable news networks. 

But remember who is pulling the strings. 

Remember what the real agenda is. 

Remember that in order to see what we see and know what we know, we have to step back from the “news” ticker. 

Breathe; blink; focus. 

And look closer. 

drglenndoyle

Go ahead. Be needy.

Realistic trauma recovery is ultimately about self-care. Radical self-care. 

And radical self-care requires radical acceptance— but that’s a different subject. 

What do I mean when I say self-care? I don’t mean it in the abstract way it’s often thrown around. 

I mean self-care in the literal sense: are we caring for ourselves? As in, are we meeting our needs? 

Trauma survivors often have a complicated relationship with our needs. 

We’ve often been conditioned to believe our needs don’t matter. 

We’ve been conditioned to believe even HAVING needs, let alone expressing them, makes us “too much.” A “burden.” “High maintenance.” 

I’m going to tell you the exact opposite: getting in touch with our needs and taking realistic steps toward meeting our needs is essential. Non-negotiable. 

What are our needs, beyond survival needs like nutrition and hydration and rest? 

Different theorists are going to have different answers to that question, but the framework I like the best posits six psychological needs that are shared by almost all humans: predictability, novelty, significance, connection, growth, and contribution. 

Most psychological needs I hear expressed by most people trace back to one or more of those. 

Predictability is a particularly important need for trauma survivors, insofar as our experiences have “taught” us that the world is unpredictable and uncontrollable— often in tragic, painful ways. 

But we also have a psychological need for novelty— to not have EVERY event of our life scripted out in advance, which would lead us to becoming bored and unmotivated. 

(In my experience, the tension between our needs for predictability and novelty often help explain our relationship and career choices— for better or worse.) 

Similarly, trauma survivors tend to have a conflicted relationship with our need for significance— to know we matter, that our existence and happiness is important— because we’ve been told over and over again by our bullies and abusers that we DON’T matter. 

The need for connection can also throw us survivors for a loop— I’m not sure we simultaneously crave and fear anything as intensely as connection on a daily basis. 

Growth can be a tricky need for trauma survivors, especially when we’ve gotten the sh*t kicked out of us by Trauma Brain to the tune of, “your life is over, don’t bother trying to learn anything new or develop any new skills.” 

Likewise, Trauma Brain can get us sideways with our need to contribute, insofar as it can convince us we don’t HAVE anything to meaningfully contribute to other people or the world. 

There’s no denying that we trauma survivors can have enormously tumultuous, complicated relationships with each of the six basic psychological needs— but we cannot let that stop us from taking each need seriously, and taking realistic steps to meet each need in some way. 

We do not recover from trauma by pretending certain of our basic psychological needs “don’t matter.” 

We don’t recover from trauma by deciding we’re just going to ignore needs that we feel weird or icky about. 

Radical self-care of the kind that heals trauma asks us to take our needs seriously. 

I recommend writing them down— predictability, novelty, significance, connection, growth, and contribution— and keeping them handy. Check in on them every now and then, and ask how your life patterns are or aren’t serving them. 

We can’t escape our needs. 

And, as it turns out, we don’t need to. 

Regardless of the bullsh*t Trauma Brain is whispering in your ear right now. 

drglenndoyle

It’s all stuff you’re doing anyway.

So much of what trauma recovery asks us to do, we’re doing already. 

We’re talking to ourselves all day anyway. 

We’re focusing our mental “spotlight” on SOMETHING. 

We’re breathing anyway. We’re doing SOMETHING with our physiology anyway. 

Why not leverage our self talk, mental focus, and physiology in ways that reinforce our safety and stability, that help us feel and function better? 

The reality is, much of our “autopilot” self talk, mental focus, and physiology were programmed into us by abusers and by abusive experiences. 

We often talk to ourselves using vocabulary and tone that we learned from our abusers. 

What we focus on now is often determined by what we had to focus on once upon a time to stay safe. 

How we breathe and use our posture is often a reflection of what we had to do “back then.” 

This is the essence of CPTSD: not just what happened to us, but what those experiences conditioned in us— and how we unwittingly carry them forward in what we say to ourselves, what we focus on, and how we breathe and use our body. 

I didn’t just make up the “self talk, mental focus, and physiology” trifecta. 

I emphasize those because it’s my observation that any and every effective trauma recovery tool is some combination of those three. 

CPTSD recovery has to, has to, has to chip away at that old conditioning. 

It has to, has to, has to scratch that old record. We CANNOT allow that old record to keep playing the way it has been. 

We can “process” our old trauma up and down and sideways— but if we’re not also addressing those old, conditioned patterns, that old programming, we’re going to stay stuck, feeling like garbage, at risk of self harm and addiction and suicide. 

That’s not me being dramatic; that’s the real experience of many CPTSD survivors. 

Remember: we’re all doing versions of the trauma recovery stuff all the time anyway. 

What we need to do is do those things consciously, purposefully, with self-acceptance, self-compassion, and accountability. 

That is to say: you can do this. 

What you “learned” through your traumatic experiences, you can unlearn. 

What has been conditioned, can be reconditioned. 

You are not the one human being in the history of human beings whose nervous system cannot change. 

If you can read this, you can make incremental changes in your self talk, your mental focus, and your breathing and physiology, starting today. And those changes WILL add up. 

That’s not toxic positivity. That’s how recovery has worked throughout the centuries of human beings who have recovered from trauma, depression, and addiction. 

(That’s right, by the way: in working your recovery, you’re part of a recovery tradition that is literally centuries old. Trauma recovery did not start with western psychology, and it will continue being a thing long after psychology is no longer a thing.) 

Easy does it. This is not a “just do (whatever) and you’ll be fine” thing. 

This is a “think realistic, sustainable, .01% choices” thing. 

This is a “slow is steady, and steady is fast” thing. 

This is a recovery thing. “They” wouldn’t get it. 

Breathe; blink; focus. 

drglenndoyle

Depression, self-esteem, and trauma recovery.

Experiencing depression does not make you “weak.” 

Weak? Are you kidding me? 

Depression is a killer disease. 

Depression kills more people every year, every day, than anyone will ever acknowledge. 

Living with depression, surviving depression, is a testament to your strength— not your supposed “weakness.” 

There are lots of reasons why people struggle with depression. But “weakness” is not one of them. 

Depression is real. It feels more real to many people than recovery, especially early on in their recovery journey. 

Depression does not just result from “distorted thoughts”— though depression absolutely does distort our thinking. 

Depression is not our fault. 

Depression is not something anyone asks for or wants. 

You’re going to hear lots of bullsh*t about depression. 

You’re going to hear depression framed as a “choice,” and you’re going to hear lots of victim blaming, both implicit and overt. 

Let’s be clear: we do have choices in how we talk to ourselves, where we direct our mental focus or “spotlight,” and how we breathe and use our body— and those choices can impact how we experience and recover from depression. 

But that doesn’t mean you are depressed because of your “choices.” 

Risk factors for depression run the gamut, from genetics to trauma to economic vulnerability to discrimination. Factors that maintain depression can be internal and external, conscious and unconscious. 

There tends to be nothing simple about most peoples’ depression. 

And managing and healing it is almost never a matter of “just do (X).” 

Managing and reducing depression tends to mirror the basics of trauma recovery: we begin with self compassion, patience, and realism. 

Depression tends to meaningfully shift when we start seriously working on our self-esteem— which is also the driver of realistic trauma recovery. 

The six “pillars” of self esteem— living consciously, self-acceptance, personal responsibility, living purposefully, self-respect, and assertiveness— are a roadmap to realistically working on our depression. 

They’re also not f*cking easy. Don’t put up with anyone suggesting they are. 

Both trauma recovery and reducing depression take commitment and time. 

But if you’re a trauma survivor working your recovery— which you probably are, if you’re reading this— you know about commitment and time. 

Easy does it. You can do this. I believe in you. 

Even if I don’t know you, I’m prepared to give you the benefit of the doubt— because I don’t believe anybody is reading these words by accident. 

Breathe; blink; focus. 

drglenndoyle

People will disappoint us. And we have to recover anyway.

People are going to disappoint us on this trauma recovery journey. 

I wish that wasn’t the case, but it most definitely is. 

People who should know better and be better, will be cruel and closed-minded. 

People who themselves have been victims of abuse or neglect, will be mean to others who have survived abuse and neglect. 

People who say they prioritize healing, will follow that up with variants of “…but only for people who I happen to like/agree with/find sympathetic.” 

I wish everyone would be kind. I wish everyone would be realistic. 

I wish you and I would only ever counter people on this journey who were secure and compassionate enough to not let their fears or other painful emotions get in the way of their empathy. 

But that’s not the world we live in, is it? 

We live in a world that tries, at every turn, to control us through shame and anxiety. 

We live in a world that very much wants people repeating and preaching the viewpoints of its political and ideological leaders. 

We live in a world where others trying to control and manipulate us is so commonplace, we barely register it— and we certainly don’t register it as anything especially unusual. 

All of this can be enormously triggering to CPTSD survivors. 

It can remind us that we are often not safe, even in spaces we “should” be, by rights. 

Other peoples’ passions and prejudices should have nothing to do with our recovery, but it’s hard to stay focused on the life we’re trying to create when we have people being expressive, intrusive, and judgmental about so many things. 

We can forget that not everybody is like that. 

We can lose sight of the fact this project is about our safety with ourselves, the safety we create on the inside of our head and heart— not anybody else’s opinions. 

I hate that there’s so much misunderstanding and hate out there. 

I don’t know that there’s more out there than there used to be, but I do think the internet gives many people the opportunity to express their aggressive thoughts in far reaching ways that were not available in years past. 

It’s not easy to stay focused on our own trauma recovery in this world. 

But that’s what I’m going to ask you to do. 

I’m going to ask you to do everything you can to keep coming back to your recovery needs and tools— your self talk, your mental focus, your physiology. 

I know: focusing on ourselves won’t “fix” the culture or the world. 

But it will empower you to have your best shot at doing things that can change the culture and the world. 

It will support your safety and stability in a world that is desperate to upend both. 

Focusing on your trauma recovery, every day, every hour, every minute, with compassion and realism, may not be sufficient to change the world— but it is very necessary. 

Bring it back to center. 

Breathe in to it. Toggle that vagus nerve. 

Blink, blink, blink. 

And focus— on who you are, who you want to be, and what you need today. 

Just keep coming back to your recovery needs and goals. 

Easy, easy does it. 

drglenndoyle

Please, please, please walk your talk, for the trauma survivors in your life.

Few things trigger CPTSD survivors like the people who say they love us, or whose job it is to take care of us, not walking their talk.

This doesn’t just apply to individuals. 

It can apply to institutions who claim to love us— like churches. 

It can apply to businesses whose job it supposedly is to take care of us— like insurance companies. 

It can apply to governments and government programs, the supposed purpose of which is to help us. 

And, of course, it can apply to family members who say they love us. 

Survivors are real sensitive to whether what we’re being told is bullsh*t. 

We’re real sensitive to whether the person saying they love us, or who has committed to taking care of us, is actually doing the thing. 


Love, as it turns out, is a verb. 

If you follow my work you know I’m constantly telling survivors to start their self-love projects with concrete behaviors, even if they’re not vibing with the “feeling” part of “self love” yet. 

Many of us overcomplicate what it means to behaviorally love somebody. 

Love, the behavior, means showing up. 

It means being demonstrably concerned with helping the beloved’s needs get met. 

It means consistently refraining from words or behaviors that will hurt the beloved. 

Do the institutions, people, or families that claim to love us, actually do that? 

Or do their words and actions hurt and discourage us? 

Usually, if we can think to ask that very practical question, the answer will be clear. 

One of the core components of CPTSD tends to be relational trauma— specifically, betrayal trauma. 

Almost everyone who struggles with CPTSD or DID has experienced a relationship that did not live up to what it promised— be it with a person, a family, a church, a job, or something else. 

It’s not that we feel the need to be constantly taken care of, either by people, or by businesses, or by anyone or anything. 

It’s that when we put our faith in someone or something, when we take the risk of trusting them, let alone DEPENDING on them…we need that risk to pay off. 

The people and institutions and companies that we allow into our lives have to walk their talk. 

They have to be who and what they say they are. 

They have to do what they say they’re going to do. 

Something trauma survivors do NOT tolerate well in relationships is feeling set up or duped. 

When we feel betrayed in relationships, we very frequently default to harshly blaming ourselves for having trusted anyone or anything in the first place. 

So much of trauma recovery is about establishing realistic safety. 

It’s really hard to establish safety with a person, a professional, an organization, or anyone or anything else that does not follow through on what it promises— not with perfection, but with transparency and consistency. 

Whether you’re a therapist, a professional, a romantic partner, a clergyperson, or even an insurance adjustor, if you want a trauma survivor to trust and continue to engage with you, you need to walk your talk— and you need to be prepared for survivors to put you through your paces. 

Trust is valuable in any relationship— but in relationships with CPTSD survivors, it is even more precious. 

And we come by that honestly. 

Breathe; blink; focus. 

drglenndoyle

Trigger me this, Batman.

Not feeling heard or accurately understood can be a particularly intense trigger for many CPTSD survivors. 

Many of us grew up feeling invisible— or, worse, visible, but disregarded. 

Many of us grew up with people making all kinds of erroneous assumptions about what we’re thinking, who we are, what we need. 

Even now, some of us experience difficulty expressing ourselves, which can lead to others misunderstanding us— or, worse, feeling angry or hurt because of something we said or how we said it. 

All of this means that our nervous system is very sensitive to those feelings— feeling unheard or misunderstood. 

Our traumatized nervous system is all about sounding the alarm when something feels off. 

And our nervous system isn’t particularly shy or subtle about it, either. 

The classic trio of CPTSD triggers are feeling trapped, controlled, or in trouble— but feeling unheard or misunderstood are right up there, too. 

All this matters because it goes to the most effective strategy for soothing and managing our feelings when we’re activated. 

A really useful Recovery Supporting Question (RSQ) tends to be, “What’s getting triggered right now— trapped, controlled, in trouble, unseen, misunderstood?” 

If we can think to ask that RSQ, almost always we can strategize around what we’re experiencing— as opposed to randomly throwing coping skills at it. 

When we’re triggered by feeling unheard or misunderstood, it’s often a young “part” that’s hurting. 

It’s often— not always, but often— a “part” of us that “holds” memories and feelings associated with feeling uncared for, unimportant, or abandoned once upon a time. 

Whatever “part” of us is stinging, we need to meet it with compassion and patience in those moments. 

Getting triggered is not our fault. Trauma responses are not choices. 

But we DO have choices once we realize what’s going on— specifically, choices in how to talk to ourselves, how to direct our mental focus or “spotlight,” and what to do with our physiology, specifically how to breathe. 

Triggers happen. Don’t shame yourself and don’t overthink it. 

Breathe; blink; focus; and remember what the most common triggers are. 

Then ask yourself what a kid who was experiencing those emotions might need from a consistent, gentle adult right now. 

Easy, easy does it.