Most everybody reading this is engaged in a war for independence right now. 

Most everybody reading this truly wants to be independent— and also, many people reading this have very mixed beliefs and feelings about what “independence” actually means. 

For trauma survivors, “independence” can mean a lot of things. 

We hate, hate, hate feeling “dependent,” upon anyone or anything. 

Even the things it’s normal or unavoidable to feel “dependent” on— food, water, oxygen— we tend to be ambivalent about at best. 

For many people reading this, dependence has been nothing but dangerous in our lives. 

Dependence has often led us to be or remain involved with hurtful people and institutions, notably churches, long beyond the point where they proved their toxicity. 

There is a subset of mental health influencers who roam around loudly proclaiming “trauma can ONLY heal in relationships”— without any apparent understanding of how that sounds to CPTSD survivors who have only ever been hurt in relationships. 

To tell a trauma survivor the ONLY path to healing is by depending on someone else is often to guarantee that survivor absolutely will not consider trauma recovery safe or possible. 

You’re going to run into plenty of people eager to lecture you about how you need to “get over” your anger, fear, and resentment about feeling dependent. 

But very few people are going to be willing or able to tell you what exactly that’s supposed to look like. 

If we could have just “gotten over” any or all of our attachment pain points, we would certainly have done so by now. 

I don’t actually believe we have to resolve all of our ambivalence about attachment and dependence in order to realistically work a trauma recovery. 

It’s true that certain relationships— but certainly not all relationships— can be powerful tools and supports on our healing journey…but it’s my observation that almost everybody starts this journey profoundly alone. 

(And for many survivors, that profound state of aloneness is a feature, not a glitch.)

We are, in point of fact, fighting a war for independence. 

Independence of our mind from memories and beliefs that are not accurate— no matter how “right” they happen to feel— and which do not serve us. 

Independence of our nervous system from dysregulation and pain. 

Independence of our bodies from somatic memories, chronic pain, and complex illnesses that are “spiked” by CPTSD. 

Many survivors with DID in particular are fighting a war for independence of their inner environment from “parts” that, while they may mean well, often show up in self-sabotaging ways. 

Your war for independence is like all other survivors’— and it’s profoundly unlike any other survivors’. 

As you fight your war for independence, I need you to remember that wars are not won by overwhelming firepower alone. They’re very often won by strategy, patience, and commitment to one’s values and goals. 

(By the by, everyone reading this could do worse than to read Sun Tzu’s “The Art of War,” with an eye for how to apply the ancient general’s philosophies to their trauma recovery.)

Today may not be your Independence Day, yet. 

But if you’re reading this, I respect your fight, and I hope the tools, skills, and philosophies I discuss on these pages realistically add to your arsenal. 

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