What people see of our CPTSD recovery in public is only going to be a teeny, tiny percentage of the real story.
The real story of trauma recovery happens in private.
Private moments of doubt.
Private moments of pain.
Private moments of really, really wanting to hurt ourselves.
Private moments of wanting to give up.
Navigating those hard private moments, day after day and, especially, night after night— that’s what CPTSD recovery is really all about.
The stuff other people see— us looking better, functioning better, showing up, engaging more— that stuff is all kind of gravy.
For that matter, many of us survivors have lots of practice doing all that public stuff, even when we’re circling the drain.
The truth is, nobody really knows how we’re leveraging our tools.
How we’re talking to ourselves.
How we’re using our mental focus. What we’re visualizing. The mental safe spaces we’ve created for ourselves, our “parts,” and our inner child.
Nobody knows how we’re relating to our body and using our breathing to stay grounded and soothe ourselves.
Only we know the full story.
Only we know how hard we’re working.
Only we know the real journey we’ve been on— and what point on that journey our current state represents.
Don’t confuse what other people see with what’s really going on.
They won’t see it all.
They probably won’t see the most important aspects of our CPTSD recovery.
But those milestones really, really f*cking matter.
Whether or not I, personally, can see them, I want you to know I understand how much work is happening beneath the surface.
And I want you to know how overwhelmingly proud of you I am.
That’s true whether or not I personally know you.
Even if I don’t know you— I know you.
We’re all in the same fight tonight.
Keep on keeping on.
Breathe; blink; focus— one minute at a time.
Use Your Damn Skills 