
Of course food and eating are inextricably entwined with our experience of both trauma and recovery.
Eating is hard wired into our survival instincts— you know, those instincts that have been lit up like a Christmas tree every minute of every day, thanks to CPTSD.
Eating, for many of us, is entwined with ambivalence and shame about our body.
Controlling our diet or depriving us of food might have played a role in our abuse.
Eating may yank on our triggers and conflicts around self-indulgence and self-control.
I don’t think I’ve ever met a trauma survivor for whom eating is uncomplicated— including myself.
It may be difficult for some people to wrap their head around food and eating as relevant to trauma, especially if our trauma didn’t specifically involve food or eating— but that’s a perfect example of how CPTSD works: very often our symptoms and struggles aren’t “obviously” connected to what we went through.
(That’s even assuming we clearly or coherently remember what we went through in the fist place— it’s common for CPTSD survivors not to.)
Learning to eat regularly and self-compassionately (I know that may sound strange, but many people reading this don’t know how to eat without hating themselves) is real important in sustainable trauma recovery.
It won’t matter what we learn or do if our body and brain, our literal cells, are starting for fuel.
Similarly, realistic recovery is hard if we’re at war with one of our most basic biological needs and urges.
Ambivalence and conflict around food and eating s one of the main drivers of dissociation.
A mistake I see some CPTSD survivors make in designing their recovery blueprint is, they overlook symptoms and struggles that they don’t think are overtly relevant to their CPTSD— like eating and other forms of daily self care.
Many people don’t understand that when I talk about post traumatic self care, I’m not talking about bubble baths and spa days.
I’m talking about things like literally feeding ourselves and developing accurate knowledge about how food and nutrition work to keep us alive.
It’s not that you struggle with “adulting.” I know everybody reading this can technically feed themselves.
It’s that you and I have had experiences that make food and eating (and exercise and sleep and hygiene and other “basic” self care activities) hard.
No shame. These are all CPTSD symptoms. Not evidence of how “immature” or “lazy” we are.
Consider your relationship with food and eating yet another relationship we have to work on improving, with patience, compassion, and realism, if we want our trauma recovery to “stick.”
We are not only “what” we eat— we are “how” we eat, and “why” we eat.
Don’t rush, pressure, or shame yourself around your food and eating issues. Just put them on your radar screen as something that matters in a realistic recover blueprint.
