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. 

drglenndoyle

Start at the bottom of Maslow’s hierarchy.

Many everyday trauma recovery wins don’t have anything obvious to do with trauma. 

I was taught how to do this work by some of the most famous trauma therapists in the world, and they never taught me that. 

Many people think trauma recovery is all about processing memories and managing symptoms, and it is, at various times. 

But it’s also about ten minutes of cleaning your space.

Hell, two minutes of cleaning your space. 

It’s about checking your bank balance every day. 

It’s about eating when you’re hungry— and knowing the differences between hungry, and bored, and anxious. 

It’s about asking for help when you need it— and accepting help. 

None of that is easy. 

And all of it matters to your trauma recovery. 

I strongly, strongly believe that trauma recovery involves a whole lot of life management. 

We just don’t recover when we’re overwhelmed by the daily stuff— and the daily stuff is often the stuff we’re most reluctant to address or ask for help with. 

After all, we “should” be able to “adult,” right? 

Meh. As with most things in trauma recovery— and life— it’s not that simple. 

As you design your trauma recovery blueprint, start with the everyday life stuff. 

Start with the “adulting” stuff you’ve been putting off and that you struggle with. 

Above all, I want your trauma recovery to be realistic and sustainable— and NO work you do on your trauma is going to “stick” if life is kicking your ass. 

So: start simple. Start basic. 

Start at the very bottom of Maslow’s hierarchy, way the hell away from your trauma symptoms and memories. 

Yeah, trauma recovery is probably going to ask you to engage with those. 

But not now. Not today. 

Today, let’s clean your room for ten minutes. 

This is realistically how we make recovery happen. 

This is how we win. 

Breathe; blink; focus. 

drglenndoyle

You don’t have to love this trauma recovery sh*t. Really.

Whoever told you you always have to have a “good attitude” about this trauma recovery sh*t, was lying. You don’t. 

I don’t always have a “good attitude” about this trauma recovery sh*t, and it’s my job. 

Nobody says you have to love it. Nobody says you always have to be motivated, or sanguine, or zen about it. 

I’ll spoil the suspense, your attitude, like mine, will often suck. 

And, that’s not a deal breaker when it comes to trauma recovery. 

Realistic recovery asks us to work it right on through The Suck. 

It asks us to refrain from hurting or killing ourselves, even when we want to. Even when we think that’s what we “deserve.” Even when we think we can’t go on one more minute. 

Not doing something you really want to do— or you really think you “have” to do— sucks. 

And, you can do it. 

Interrupting yourself when you’re beating the sh*t out of yourself is hard. 

And, you can do it. 

Paying attention to your physiology, especially your breathing, is a hassle. 

And, you can do it. 

Working our trauma recovery requires us to be different from all those people who will read this post and comment with 2,477,270 reasons why they “can’t” or “shouldn’t have to.” 

Working our trauma recovery asks us to stand up for ourselves against our bullies and abusers— specifically, the ones in our head, the ones who are still giving us sh*t, even though they may not even be in our life (or even alive) anymore. 

Working our trauma recovery asks us to be realistic about what progress looks like. Because it doesn’t look like feeling 100% better overnight. 

Woking our trauma recovery asks us to be kind to and patient with “parts” of ourselves that may frustrate or confuse or infuriate us. 

None of that is easy. And yes, all of it is “easier said than done” (like literally everything). 

You don’t have to love it. 

You just have to get yourself to identify and make the next recovery supporting micro choice in how you talk to yourself, how you direct your mental focus, and how you use your breathing and body. 

The person reading this with the worst attitude, can still do that. 

Breathe; blink; focus. 

drglenndoyle

Trauma recovery is about happiness– not just managing symptoms.

Something many trauma recover resources don’t tell you, that I think they should, is that your daily life management routine and rituals and skills have got to be linked to your overall philosophy and model of what happiness is. 

Because the goal of all of this is not just “symptom management.” 

The goal of all of this is happiness. 

A barrier I ran into in my own trauma recovery (and my recovery from addiction and ADHD) was, I felt that the tools I was developing were only useful for managing symptoms— which was fine, but also not especially motivating. 

Yes, we all want to manage and reduce painful symptoms. 

But “managing symptoms” is not really something that gets me up in the morning. 

Digging into that, I discovered a specific fear: that if I got too good at “managing” my symptoms, everything in my life would be stable…and boring. 

I know, hell of a problem to have, right? 

The truth is, there are times in the chaotic sh*t show that used to be my life, that I would have BEGGED for “boring.” 

It’s not that I liked or wanted drama. I didn’t, and don’t. 

What I did want, though, was to feel alive. 

I wanted to work on projects that mattered to me. That inspired me, that turned me on, that focused me. 

And the version of life that I felt I was developing by just focusing on skills and tools was just not especially interesting. 

Now, the solution to that is not to give up on tools and skills, nor to discredit safety and stability as goals. All of those are super important. 

But they need to be tied to something bigger. 

I don’t want you sleepwalking through your days, acceptably “managing” your symptoms, but with no bigger model of how happiness and fulfillment happen. 

I want you taking time, every day, to connect what you’re working on today— the safety and stability and executive functioning stuff— with what you ultimately want. 

Your big goals. Your big dreams. 

And, yes, I know: trauma does a real number on our ability to dream big and to set goals and to dare to even think about what “happiness” is. 

It’s anxiety provoking. And, not for nothing, we’re not taught how to do that— to connect our daily routines and decisions to the bigger picture of what creates a life worth living. 

But I truly think that’s the ultimate key to sustainable recovery. 

Put another way: there are plenty of resources that will teach us the “what” of trauma recovery. For that matter, the “what”— the specific tools and skills— are going to vary based on who you are, what your learning style is, and what your specific injuries and wounds are. 

But the “what” of trauma recovery won’t sustain us. We’ll get bored with it. We’ll get tired of it. 

We also need the “why.” 

We need something to do all of this for. A reason to endure the hassle and the heartache. 

What I want you thinking about, at last a little every day, is: your model of happiness. 

What creates it? 

What sustains it? 

Because if experiencing trauma has taught us anything, it’s that life or other people are not going to come along and hand us happiness. 

If we’re going to get realistically, sustainably happy, it’s on us. 

Don’t let that freak you out. Happiness is like anything: it has building blocks. A formula. Those aren’t the same for everyone— but your equation is out there. 

I just want you starting to think about it and ask questions about it. Even if you’re just trying to stay alive every day at this point.