drglenndoyle

So we’re vulnerable. And?

You are vulnerable. So am I.

We don’t have to love it. I don’t. 

But we do have to accept it. We do have to be realistic about it. 

Maybe you and I are not vulnerable in the same ways we were back then— or, maybe we are. 

We want to imagine that growing up negates our vulnerability, but it doesn’t. Not totally. 

Personally, I’ve come to understand that far more and bigger problems are created by denying our vulnerability than the fact of our vulnerability. 

If we deny and disown our vulnerability, we cannot manage it. 

If we deny and disown our vulnerability, we cannot realistically reduce it. 

After all, are we going to manage or reduce something we don’t even acknowledge? No, we’re not. 

Accepting the fact of our vulnerability doesn’t mean liking it. It doesn’t mean just letting it exist without trying to change it. 

It’s not good to wander around out there with our vulnerability on full display. 

It’s also not good to pretend we’re invulnerable. 

You are not from Krypton. 

(And even if you were,  you’d be vulnerable to Kryptonite and magic.)

So we’re vulnerable. And? 

It’s not our fault or failing that we’re vulnerable. Vulnerability is the human condition. 

It’s also not our fault that some people habitually try to exploit our vulnerability. That’s always going to happen, and it has nothing to do with what we’re wearing (metaphorically or literally). 

We are more than our vulnerability, by the way. 

And our vulnerability is also key to our authenticity— which is key to our realistic trauma recovery. 

(Seriously: no one in the history of humanity has been able to be authentic without also being vulnerable. Vulnerability is kind of the price of admission to authenticity.) 

We are vulnerable. 

And the sooner we accept that fact— as well as what it does and doesn’t mean about our “character’— the sooner we can design a realistic recovery blueprint around it. 

drglenndoyle

Just notice.

As we work our trauma recovery, we get less attached to who we’ve had to be and what we’ve had to do to survive. And that can be bittersweet. 

It’s not that we necessarily “like” those patterns and coping mechanisms. Some of them we very much dislike, actually. 

But we feel somehow…loyal to them. 

After all, those patterns and coping mechanisms got us through some gnarly sh*t. 

It’s one reason why we can get more than a little defensive when people get on our case about our habits— it’s not that we necessarily like those habits either, but those people don’t understand how important those habits have been to us. 

Nor do those people often understand how afraid we are to give those patterns and coping mechanisms up.

You’re going to run into plenty of people who will try to tell you that giving up old patters that no longer serve us “should” be easy, or at last straightforward. 

After all, if it’s not serving us anymore, if it’s creating more problems than it solves, why are we hanging on to it? 

 Because loyalty. And more than a little bit of fear. 

The reality is, shifting away from old patterns and tools and habits is complicated. And we have to let it be complicated. 

It’s not going to work to try to shame or pressure ourselves out of those old patterns. 

What we can do is just notice as we start to be less attached to them. 

What we can do is meet our own complicated and bittersweet feelings with compassion and patience. Which, I know, isn’t always the biggest strength of us trauma survivors. 

Go easy on yourself. 

None of this “recovery” thing is particularly easy or obvious. And that very much applies to how we surrender old patterns. 

Just pay attention. Just notice. 

Just notice as those old patterns and coping mechanisms and habits feel less like you— day by day, hour by hour. 

No pressure. No rush. 

It’s a long walk back to Eden. Don’t sweat the small stuff. 

drglenndoyle

Don’t contort yourself. It’s not worth it.

Harming ourselves to conform to someone else’s expectations is never worth it. 

It never supports the safety we think it will. Not really. 

Contorting to fit someone else’s image of us does not make them like us. Not really, not authentically. 

It may make them temporarily like the role we’re playing for a minute— but if that role isn’t sustainable, we’re setting ourselves up for a bigger problem than we had. 

If you think people don’t like when you don’t conform to their expectations, wait till you see what they do when we signal that we’re one thing they like…then we revert to something they don’t like or understand. 

Roleplaying to try to get them to like us is just not worth it. 

It trashes our self-esteem, and for what? 

It communicates to our “parts” and inner child that we’re not acceptable or lovable as we are, and for what? 

I understand: of course we WANT “them” to like us. Hell, we want everyone to like us. Part of us really believes that if we can just figure that equation out, just push the right buttons in everybody around us to get them to like us, maybe, maybe, we’ll feel safe and secure. 

But we won’t. 

Because deep down we’ll know: that’s built on an illusion. An inauthentic, unsustainable illusion. 

Roleplaying to try to get them to like us actually increases our anxiety. 

It’s actually worse when it works for a minute. Then the stakes of the facade are even HIGHER. Then we have something to lose. 

F*ck all of this. 

You are working a trauma recovery that prioritizes authenticity and sustainability. You do not have the time or the bandwidth to play some role, to pretend to be someone, to contort yourself to fit into someone else’s “box.” 

You are valuable and lovable just as you are. 

Maybe not everybody can appreciate your value— which is true of anything of value, by the way, there are people who don’t appreciate its worth— but that does not mean their lack of appreciation means anything real. 

Don’t contort yourself. 

Don’t twist yourself into a pretzel trying to be “their” ideal anything. 

The only way to build a realistic, sustainable trauma recovery is by being you. 

That’s a harder truth than many people appreciate, but this is how it works. 

Breathe; blink; focus. 

drglenndoyle

Positive thinking won’t save us from CPTD– but.

Positive thinking isn’t going to save you or me from CPTSD. 

I wish it would. 

I wish I could tell you that all this CPTSD bullsh*t was a bad dream, that we could think our way out of. 

I wish I could tell you that all you or I had to do to recover from CPTSD is to fix our attitude. Because attitude is everything, and everything is attitude…right? 

Well. Not quite. 

Positive thinking doesn’t save anyone from anything. 

That said, what we think does matter. 

I’m not saying that we can think our way out of CPTSD, or that the only reason anyone suffers from CPTSD is because they’re “choosing” the “wrong” thoughts. 

(Though I’m sure someone in the comments who didn’t read this far into the post is probably going to say that. Stay toxic.) 

What I am saying is, we have a little bit of wiggle room in our thoughts. 

We have a little bit of wiggle room with how we talk to ourselves. 

We have a little bit of wiggle room in how we direct our mental focus. 

Mind you, that wiggle room may seem impossible tiny some days.

Some days it may very much feel like CPTSD is hijacking every goddamn thought in our goddamn head. 

(By the way, shout out to everyone who has ever asked if, strictly speaking, I “need” to use profanity on my posts. It’s a very f*cking good question that I will f*cking think about very f*cking hard, and get back to you. Thanks for reading.) 

I’m not saying we we have complete freedom inside our head or heart. 

I’m saying we have wiggle room— and, if we’re serious about trauma recovery, we need to take advantage of that wiggle room. 

If we use that wiggle room to focus on and amplify our limitations and our deficits— that’s going to have consequences in how we feel and function. 

Understand: negative thinking doesn’t CREATE CPTSD— but it can sure as hell be its biggest cheerleader and benefactor. 

Conversely, if we use that wiggle room to focus on and amplify our strengths and resources— that’s going to have consequences in how we feel and function as well. 

It will not “solve” all, or probably any, of our problems, and it will definitely not “cure” our PTSD. 

Positive thinking will not save us. 

But it will support our recovery a hell of a lot more realistically than negative thinking. 

I’m not saying bullsh*t yourself. 

I’m not saying “good vibes only.” 

I’m not saying your habitual thinking is your fault, or the “cause” of your pain. 

I’m just saying, get mindful and intentional about how you use your cognitive “wiggle room.” 

I’m saying that, for all the choices we DON’T have when it comes to self talk and mental focus, there are absolutely some choices we DO have. 

And I don’t believe in throwing away ANY tool that could potentially help us crawl out of this pit called CPTSD. 

drglenndoyle

Reality check.

The reality is: the feelings and memories aren’t suddenly going away. 

No matter how much we wish they would. No matter what we do. 

We can do things to make ourselves less vulnerable to them and we can do things to diminish their intensity— and, yes, we can process them so they don’t affect us the same way anymore. 

But they won’t suddenly go away because we want them to. 

So: we need to find a way to be with them. To coexist with them. 

We need to find a way to sit with and tolerate those feelings and memories, at last temporarily. 

That requires patience. That requires realism and compassion and the willingness to allow those feelings and memories to exist— to not demand they go away or not exist. 

It requires our willingness to not beat the sh*t out of ourselves for having those feelings and memories. Not that anybody reading this— or the person writing this— ever does that, right? 

Right? 

Among the things we want and need our trauma recovery to be, is realistic. And realistic trauma recovery does not indulge fantasies about sudden transformation. 

The changes we make in our nervous and endocrine systems in trauma recovery will take time. That’s the reality. 

No, we don’t love those feelings and reactions and memories. And we don’t have to love them. 

But we do have to accept that they exist. We do have to let them exist. 

And we do have to commit to not attacking, shaming, rejecting, or abandoning the “parts” of ourselves that hold those feelings and memories. 

I know— tall order. 

But welcome to trauma recovery. 

It always, always starts with acceptance. Accepting reality. Accepting what happened, happened. 

Accepting that we do not have a choice about whether or not we’re trauma survivors— but we do have a choice whether to work our trauma recovery with patience, self compassion, and realism. 

Those feelings and memories are not suddenly going away. 

But we can work with them— if we’re not too busy denying and disowning them, or punishing the “parts” of ourselves that hold them. 

drglenndoyle

Recovery takes the time it takes. And that’s the good news.

Oh, I get it: you are frustrated as f*ck with how long this trauma recovery thing is taking. 

That’s very normal— both for it to take the time it takes, and for survivors to be frustrated by it. 

The reason trauma recovery is taking so long is not because you’re doing it wrong. Or because  you’re “stupid.” Or because you’re “lazy.” Or because you’re “weak.” 

Trauma recovery takes the time it takes because it’s not a bullshit quick fix. 

Trauma recovery isn’t even a “fix,” per se. It’s not something that happens TO us, like our abuse or neglect were. 

Trauma recovery is a lifestyle. 

It’s a series of choices we make anew, every day. 

Choices about what? About how to talk to ourselves. 

About where to direct our mental focus, even in the small ways we can. (You are leveraging the tool of mental focus right now, by reading this— so you have at least SOME influence over it.)

About how to breathe and move and otherwise use our body. 

Getting realistic about trauma recovery means getting realistic about how trauma wounded us— and the reality is, trauma wounded us by conditioning us. By programming us. By driving certain beliefs and habits deep into our nervous system. 

That’s not the kind of damage we un-do quickly or easily. 

But it IS the kind of damage we CAN un-do— if we’re realistic about how that’s done, and consistent about using our recovery skills, tools, and philosophies. 

A trauma recovery SKILL is something we can do. 

A trauma recovery TOOL is something we can us. 

A trauma recovery PHILOSOPHY is an framework that informs how and when we use our skills and tools. 

We are making choices about self-talk, mental focus, and physiology all day, every day— and within those choices, we are either using or not using specific skills, tools, and philosophies to support our recovery. 

If, day by day, day after day, we use our trauma recovery skills, tools, and philosophies to guide our self talk, mental focus, and physiology, we WILL change our nervous system. 

That is to say: we WILL recover. 

The human nervous system is demonstrably plastic—changeable— and recovery is inevitable with the right blueprint. 

But it does to happen overnight. 

Thank goodness for that. 

Because I want your and my trauma recovery to stick. 

I want us to realistically, sustainably change our nervous systems— not just to feel better, but to function better. 

It takes the time it takes and it’s frustrating as f*ck. 

But the fact it takes the time it takes is also the good news. 

drglenndoyle

Their world is not necessarily the “real world”– or the world we need.

You are going to be told, over and over again, that you have to live in the “real world”— and that’s true enough. 

But when many people say that, what they often actually mean is, they want you to live in THEIR world. 

You know— the world in which they set the rules and expectations. 

The world in which they get to choose who is “normal” or not. 

The world in which they get to define what you “should” or “shouldn’t” focus on and do. 

That can be very different from living in the actual real world. 

Trauma survivors hear this kind of sh*t all the time— that our problem is we don’t live in the “real world.” 

My question, though, is which “real world” are we actually talking about? 

Because CPTSD survivors actually live in a world that acknowledges the reality of certain things that many people effortfully want and try to not know about. 

CPTSD survivors live in the world where emotional neglect does as much harm as nutritional or physical neglect. 

CPTSD survivors live in the world where mental, emotional, and financial abuse is as destructive as physical or sexual abuse. 

CPTSD survivors live in the world where “let it go” and “get over it” are not actual strategies for any kind of realistic trauma recovery. 

Is that the “real world” you had in mind? 

Or were you just looking for a way to blame survivors for our own pain? 

Here’s the real truth of what I believe: we will get f*cking skinned alive if we try to exist in “their” world. 

“Their” world is most often built on and shot through with denial. 

“Their” world is very frequently ableist on a good day. 

“Their” world is one in which superficial, dismissive advice like “leave the past in the past” is considered profound or actionable. 

No, I do not recommend living in “their” world— even if the try to shame you into believing it’s the only way to be living in the “real world.” 

I recommend creating and living in your own world— one that deeply acknowledges the realities that “their” world conveniently ignores. 

I recommend making your world that is neither “optimistic” nor “pessimistic”— but REALISTIC about the fact that recovery is a b*tch, requires effort and intelligence and tools and persistence…and is absolutely possible, for everyone reading these world. 

I recommend living in a world where YOU decide what is and isn’t “normal”— not somebody who has never walked a mile in your shoes (or walked a mile beside you on your journey, for that matter). 

In my experience, the world that WE create and develop in our trauma recovery journey is far more consistent with reality and recovery than anyone who condescendingly tells us we need to live in the “real world.” 

We create our world with our self-talk, our mental focus, and our physiology. I know I’m going to get sh*t for being “reductionistic,” like I always do when I say that, but it’s true. 

We are not powerless over the world we experience inside our head and heart. 

It’s true that CPTSD has a head start on designing that world— but we can take over the creative reins. 

Breathe; blink; focus. 

drglenndoyle

Trauma is about “control.” Recovery is about influence.

So much of trauma recovery is about control. 

Turns out: we do not “control” sh*t.

But Trauma Brain is going to tell us we “have” to “control”…like, everything, basically. 

It’ll tell us we “have” to “control” our feelings. 

It’ll tell us we “have” to “control” our environment. 

It’ll tell us we “have” to “control” other people’s perceptions of us. 

Turns out: there is no “controlling” any of that. 

And we, being smart, eventually figure that out— and it freaks us out. 

After all: if you’re reading this, chances are very good you’ve been hurt by uncontrollable situations and/or uncontrolled people. 

It makes sense we’d freak out when we get a taste of truly how powerless we are over certain things. 

It’s that sense of powerless that can drive depression, overwhelming anxiety— and, not infrequently, the urge to hurt or even kill ourslves. 

Lack of control is no small thing to trauma survivors. 

And, lack of control is something we have to wrap our head around if we’re going to meaningfully recover from trauma. 

Turns out: because we can’t “control” something, doesn’t mean we can’t influence it. 

I’m not a fan of trying to “control” our feelings. That’s a recipe for frustration and shame. 

But I do believe in doing what we can to influence our feelings. 

Our self talk does not control our feelings— but you’d better believe how we talk to ourselves influences how we feel. 

Our mental focus does not control our feelings (and we don’t even “control” 100% of our mental focus)— but what we choose to mental turn toward or turn away from absolutely influences our feelings. 

How we breathe and use our body does not control our feelings— but it absolutely influences what feeling states are relatively easier or harder to access. 

The same is true for how other people perceive us. The same is true for our environment. We cannot directly “control” any of it— but we can influence them. 

Some days that influence is going to be a little, some days it’ll be a little more— but, even though influence is not “control,” it’s also not nothing. 

Our trauma conditioning is going to try, hard to get us up in our head about control. It’s going to tell us that if we can’t “control” something, then we’re completely powerless, completely at its mercy, and there’s no point trying to change it. 

That’s a thinking distortion we psychologist types call “black and white thinking”— and it’s one of Trauma Brain’s favorite, most effective tools to f*ck us up. 

Realistic trauma recovery acknowledges that “control” is an illusion and a trap. And that preoccupation with “control” will keep us sick. 

One of the first, most important, philosophical tools you can use to move your trauma recovery forward is replacing “control” in your vocabulary with “influence.” 

It’s a baby step and it may seem like semantics— but try it out. 

drglenndoyle

So the world is unsafe. And?

The world isn’t perfectly safe, and it’s not going to be perfectly safe. 

The world should be safer, and we should work to make it safer— but it’s never going to be just “safe.” 

That can be really hard for our traumatized nervous system to accept. 

Especially when we’ve been hurt in the past, our nervous system is going to really, really want the world and people to be categorically safe before it engages with either. 

Which then often results in us avoiding both the world and other people.

I wish the world and other people were safe. 

One of the most important tasks we face in realistic trauma recovery is figuring out how we can get our nervous system and “parts”to stay present, even in the absence of safety. 

Because we can’t just nope out of the world, no matter how unsafe we feel. 

I know, I know. Noping out of this unsafe world sounds really, really appealing, especially when we’re nursing old wounds. 

But ultimately, avoidance goes nowhere. 

As seductive as it is, avoidance doesn’t just keep us stuck— it tends to sink us deeper into the quicksand the longer we try to use it as a “strategy.” 

It’s not your fault that avoidance appeals to you, by the way. It’s not you being a “coward” or “immature” or “irresponsible.” 

We avoid because we’ve been conditioned to believe we can’t handle life. 

We avoid because we haven’t had the tools or the support we need to handle life. 

We avoid because we have BS (Belief Systems) whispering in our ear that we can’t handle life. 

So: don’t kick yourself for avoiding. Of course you avoid. You’ve been hurt— that really happened to you, you’re not making it up for exaggerating it— and your system is now pressuring you to sit on the sidelines until safety is guaranteed. 

Your “parts” and inner child need to be validated and supported, not shamed or pressured. 

I truly wish comprehensive safety was possible in this world, in this lifetime. 

But realistic trauma recovery acknowledges that’s a fantasy. 

And realistic trauma recovery has us asking ouselves what we need to shake out of the “freeze” response elicited by the unsafety of this world. 

Usually that answer involves patience, willingness to take and validate baby steps, and radical self-compassion. 

Breathe; blink; focus. 

drglenndoyle

Trauma weaponizes your gifts against you. It’s bullsh*t.

Here’s the thing: some of our best qualities have been turned against us by trauma. 

Our intelligence. 

Our intensity. 

Our commitment. 

Even our creativity. 

Those are great qualities. 

But when Trauma Brain gets hold of them— woof. 

Our intelligence gets used not to problem solve, but to overthink. 

Our intensity gets used not to break through, but to beat the sh*t to of ourselves. 

Our commitment gets used not to stick with our important projects, but to stick with the project of doubting and punishing ourselves. 

Our creativity gets used not to build things that enhance our lives, but to come up with ever more inventive ways to sabotage and shame ourselves. 

When Trauma Brain, the internalized voices of our bullies and abusers, gets hold of our basic toolkit, we unwittingly become our own worst enemy. 

Think of trauma recovery as taking your tools back from your bullies and abusers. 

After all, there is no reason why they should have access to some of our greatest gifts, talents, and skills. 

The same tools that have been weaponized against us by our trauma can become our greatest assets in recovery. 

I’m telling you: you have more going for you than you think. 

Every personal quality that has made you miserable can contribute to getting you better. 

We have to scramble those old patterns. 

We have to understand when and how we’re using our own gifts against ourselves, and slam the brake. 

That’s not easy. That means working against patterns that have been literally carved into our brain over years. 

It’s physically painful. 

But worth it, to not participate in our own self destruction anymore. 

You are not who they think you are— you are golden. Golden. 

Here’s to remembering who the f*ck you are and not letting Trauma Brain hijack your arsenal anymore. 

Breathe; blink; focus.