Things you need to know, in no particular order: 

You need to know being abused was not your fault. No amount of shame you feel now means it was your fault. 

You need to know that the way anybody treats you has way more to do with them, than with you. 

You need to know that everybody who has ever struggled with trauma symptoms and responses has sincerely doubted their ability to recover. 

You need to know that everybody who has ever meaningfully recovered from trauma did so over time, not all at once. 

You need to know that feeling like you can’t do this doesn’t mean you can’t do this. 

You need to know that sometimes you’re going to very much want to be touched— and other times you’re going to very much not want to be touched. And both of those are okay. 

You need to know that desiring sex doesn’t make you a freak, a weirdo, or a pervert. 

You need to know that having experienced sexual feelings while you were being abused does not mean you “liked” it. 

You need to know that traumatic memory functions differently from non-traumatic memory— and there may be many very valid reasons why your memories of what happened are incomplete or missing. 

You need to know that it’s normal and okay to feel scared. 

You need to know that feeling scared doesn’t necessarily mean you’re in danger. 

You need to know that skipping meals or starving yourself isn’t as helpful as Trauma Brain insists it is. 

You need to know you have exactly as much right to safety and happiness as anyone who has ever existed. 

You need to know, if you’re reading this, you’re already on your recovery journey— because exposing yourself to and reading recovery material is how we plant the mental seeds of our recovery. 

You need to know the more good stuff you read and otherwise upload into your brain, the more material your Recovery Brain has to work with. 

You need to know that after we’ve been through trauma, it becomes hard for our nervous system to distinguish actual danger, perceived danger, fictional danger, and/or danger from the past that isn’t still threatening in the same way. 

You need to know you’re not hopeless. 

You need to know you’re not pathetic. 

You need to know I am thinking about you and rooting for you every single day of your recovery. 

Yes, even if I don’t know you personally. 

(I’m quite serious about this. I spend large chunks of my day thinking about and directing good vibes toward people in recovery I have never met. This includes you, if I haven’t met you.)

You need to know you’re not a loser for experiencing symptoms or struggling to manage them. You need to know that even people deep into very successful recovery can experience symptoms and struggle to manage them. (Ask me know I know.)

You need to know it’s not too late. 

You need to know you’re not too far gone. You’re not too damaged. You’re not “destined” for anything, good or bad. 

You need to know that if you can read these words, you have what it takes to rebuild your life. 

Maybe not rebuild it in the way you thought it would look like; maybe not in the way you hoped once up on a time. 

But you need to know that there amazing things ahead for you. 

Things you can’t possibly imagine now. 

Things that you are going to create, realistically and sustainably, over time, with the skills, tools, philosophies, and resources you’re developing in this thing we call “recovery.” 

You need to know I 100% believe everything I’ve written here. 

And you need to know I’m not wrong about things like this. 

You need to know we do recover. 

Yes, I, too, doubted it once upon a time. I’m not even supposed to be here right now, writing this, breathing air. 

But I am. And you’re here reading it. 

You need to know it’s along walk back to Eden, so it’s not worth sweating the small stuff. 

You need to know even the Mona Lisa’s falling apart. 

You need to know I care if you make though tonight. 

That’s true no matter what day or night you happen to be reading this. 

Leave a comment