drglenndoyle

No trauma survivor “likes” chaos.

I’ve never met a trauma survivor who “liked” chaos. 

But I’ve met plenty who are USED to chaos. 

Plenty who get anxious when they’re NOT immersed in chaos. 

Plenty who have returned to chaotic situations after initially escaping them— but that’s not about “liking” them. 

Trauma survivors have very often learned to function in chaos. 

Not just function— to handle it effectively. To be “good” at functioning in chaos, whatever that means. 

We’re good in a pinch. Good in a crisis. 

When things calm down, though, we don’t quite know what to do. 

The adrenaline and sympathetic nervous system responses that feel our decisions in crisis are missing. 

Chaotic situations ask trauma survivors to focus on short term survival, which we know how to do— but less chaotic situations ask us to focus on long term plans and goals, which can be unfamiliar, confusing, or off-putting to us. 

Thinking about or planning for the future is often not a priority for trauma survivors who didn’t even expect to live this long— or who were conditioned to believe that positive long term outcomes never happen anyway. 

So we might retreat back into chaos. 

Chaotic relationships. Chaotic living situations. 

Then we might get sh*t for what looks to other people like a “choice”— but what, in reality, is a trauma-driven retreat into our comfort zone. 

Trauma recovery is going to ask us to confront our addiction to (not our “liking of”) chaos. 

It’s going to ask us to realistically develop the skillset of functioning in NON-chaotic environments, which is a novel concept for many of us. 

Recovery is going to ask us to forgive ourselves for supposed “choices” that landed us back in chaos in the past. 

And trauma recovery is going to ask us to accept the fact that, while we survivors may be good in a crisis, we should never have had to develop that skillset. We should have had safety and support growing up— not to be left on our own to MacGuyver our way through. 

Chaos may be all you know. That’s not your fault. 

But you’re not in recovery to handle more chaos. 

You’re in recovery to realistically learn how to tolerate peace. 

drglenndoyle

The food struggle is real.

There is zero shame in struggling with food. There are lots of reasons why CPTSD survivors struggle with it. 

But the world can be real judgmental about our struggles with food— and we can be real judgmental of ourselves when it comes to our struggles with food. 

Food is connected to all sorts of touchy, triggery stuff for us. 

It’s connected to literal survival. 

It’s connected to body image. 

It’s connected to comfort. 

It’s connected to pleasure. 

It’s connected to shame. 

Dissociation can make food and eating even more complicated. It’s hard to manage a literal survival behavior that requires presence and consistency when you’re unpredictably in and out of the present time, place, and person. 

We need to meet our struggles with food and eating just like we meet any other trauma symptom or struggle— with realism, patience, and compassion. 

You need to know you don’t have to figure out the eating thing today. Or figure it out perfectly. Or figure it out to anyone else’s satisfaction. 

Eating is one of those things where we often don’t like to even admit we’re struggling, because it’s a “normal” behavior that “normal” people “shouldn’t” struggle with or freak out about. 

F*ck that. This is CPTSD recovery. We left “normal” a few turns back, if you haven’t noticed. 

Navigate the food thing on meal, one snack, one crumb, at a time. 

Know you’re definitely not the first or the last CPTSD survivor to struggle with food or eating.

Know that it gets easier the more we accept that we’re going to struggle with it— and the more we forgive ourselves for struggling with it. 

Know that you deserve to eat, and to even enjoy eating. 

And know that if you don’t right now believe you deserve to eat or enjoy eating, it’s okay. No shame. 

Know that nobody’s mad at you and you’re not in trouble for struggling with eating. 

It’s just something we’re working on, something we’re figuring out. 

No more, no less. 

Easy does it. Breathe; blink; focus. 

drglenndoyle

You deserve…

You deserve people in your life who see you. 

Who are proud of you. 

Who are not embarrassed by you. 

Who take the time to understand you. 

Who give you the benefit of the doubt. 

Who have your back. 

Who care about your projects. 

Who don’t project on to you. 

Who don’t use you. 

Who value you for more than what you look like. 

Who value you for more than what you can do for them. 

Who are not looking to you to compete them. 

Who are interested in seeing you feel good, function well, and succeed. 

You deserve people in your life for whom love is a verb, not just a feeling. 

Just in case you have Trauma Brain trying to tell you you don’t. 

drglenndoyle

Don’t let “trauma” or “survivor” language trip you up or scare you away from recovery.

You don’t “have” to use any language that doesn’t feel right, to you, to describe yourself or your experience. 

Maybe “trauma” feels right; maybe it doesn’t. 

Maybe “survivor” feels right; maybe it doesn’t. 

Some people find it useful and validating to call themselves “survivors” and what they went through “trauma;” others find those labels stressful or distracting. 

Most of the people reading this have had others try to define and police their language when it comes to describing their experience— which is condescending, invalidating, and controlling. 

F*ck that. 

Whatever language you prefer to describe yourself and what you went though, we can agree that your experiences conditioned you to feel, think, believe, and behave in certain patterns; and that to undo that damage, we need to choose and condition alternative patterns of feeling, thinking, believing, and behaving. 

I choose to call those formative experiences “trauma” and reconditioning those experiences “recovery,” but call them what you want. 

The language we use is less important than the consistent, incremental effort we put in, hour by hour, day by day. 

You get to choose. 

Don’t let the language trip you up. 

Focus on the tools and strategies that will realistically lead you to feeling, doing, and experiencing more of what you want and value, and less of what you want to leave behind. 

drglenndoyle

CPTSD and DID do not exist for the hell of it.

You need to know you didn’t develop these CPTSD patterns or DID patterns for the hell of it. 

That’s what CPTSD and DID are: patterns. Conditioned patterns of attention, experience, and reflexive behavior. 

CPTSD and DID are NOT “incurable diseases.” 

CPTSD and DID are NOT who you are or your “personality.” 

CPTSD and DID are NOT “choices.” 

They are patterns that have been conditioned in you, likely for years or even decades— meaning you may not even remember a time when those patterns didn’t define your life experience. 

Patterns that have been conditioned, can be unconditioned and reconditioned. 

That doesn’t mean it’s “easy.” That means it’s possible— with consistency and commitment and support and strategy. 

The patterns of thinking, believing, feeling, and behaving that add up to CPTSD and DID developed for reasons— most often, to keep us safe on some level. 

What many people don’t understand is, the overwhelming majority of trauma “symptoms” have their roots in self-protection. 

What WE need to understand is that giving up those “symptoms”— up to and including self-harm and suicidal ideation— is probably going to feel UNSAFE on some level, especially at first. 

We do not develop CPTSD or DID to be “difficult.” 

Nobody reading this “chose” CPTSD or DID. (Given the actual “choice,” literally everyone who struggles with either would absolutely choose differently 10 times out of 10.)

The most painful, frustrating trauma “symptoms” we experience are purposeful. 

And if we’re going to realistically reduce our vulnerability to them, we need to understand and respect what they’re all about. 

We have to give them their due. 

All of this is part of a larger project of steadfastly refusing to hate or reject “parts” of ourselves or our experience. 

For as ashamed or confused as we are by aspects of what we’re experiencing, realistic recovery is going to ask us to deal with our “parts” and our experiences with respect, patience, and openness. 

CPTSD and DID do not exist, either in general or in us, “for no reason.” 

And if we’re going to ask our nervous system to run new, different unfamiliar patterns, instead of the patterns we’ve been running for years, we’d better be prepared to demonstrate that we understand what a significant “ask” that is. 

drglenndoyle

CPTSD is overwhelming. No need to deny it.

CPTSD can be overwhelming. No need to deny it. No need to minimize it. 

The fact that we can meaningfully recover from CPTSD and create a life worth living doesn’t take away from the fact that trauma absolutely sucks— nor is it to say that it’s our fault if we haven’t yet recovered. 

People so want to to think about CPTSD and the suffering it causes in black and white terms— but it’s just not that simple. 

Many of us feel ashamed for feeling overwhelmed by CPTSD. We blame ourselves for “letting” it get the better of us, especially if we grew up believing we had to be “tough.” 

The problem with that whole mindset is that it’s not just that CPTSD “feels” overwhelming— CPTSD IS overwhelming. Literally. It overwhelms our capacity to cope and function. 

That’s not our fault— but Trauma Brain, the internalized voices of our bullies and abusers, will try to tell us it is. 

Many of us feel ashamed for not having gotten our lives back on track yet, especially if we were raised to believe that feeling or functioning poorly is both our fault and our responsibility. 

The problem with THAT whole mindset is that we can’t “get our lives back on track” until we have the tools and support to do so— and we’re actually READY to do so. 

We’re not ready for trauma recovery until we are. 

And there’s no forcing it if we’re not yet at that point. 

The temptation to deny and disown how overwhelming CPTSD is can be very strong in survivors, especially if we’ve been shamed and punished for struggling in the past. 

After all, we’re not supposed to “let” anyone see our weaknesses, are we? 

We’re not supposed to “let” anyone know we’re struggling or hurting. 

We hear terms like “self compassion” and “validation,” and part of us might assume it’s a trick— a trap to get us to cop to vulnerability, only then to be mocked or taken advantage of. 

No, it’s not easy to admit how overwhelming CPTSD can be, let alone how overwhelmed we feel trying to manage it. 

Recovery is going to ask us to consider the fact that maybe we’re NOT overwhelmed by CPTSD because we’re “weak.” 

Maybe we’re overwhelmed by it because it is overwhelming. 

Maybe feeling overwhelmed is not a character flaw— maybe it’s something that human beings experience when our resources are exhausted, or when we’re pitted against stressors that we were not designed to face. 

Bones get broken when they are subjected to pressure that they were not designed to withstand. Brains are no different. 

When we turn toward recovery, and realize there are realistic things we CAN do to feel and function differently, the temptation is often to blame ourselves for not doing those things earlier, or more consistently, or not having figured out those things on our own. 

The realty is, CPTSD recovery asks us to forgive ourselves— over, and over, and over again. 

Forgive ourselves for what? For not getting into recovery earlier. For not knowing what the hell recovery— or trauma, for that matter— was before we did. 

For not being ready until we were. 

For trying to white knuckle our way through experiences that were never going to be managed in the long term by “white knuckling.” 

Yes, CPTSD can be overwhelming. 

But neither you nor I owe anyone an apology for being overwhelmed. 

Nor do we owe anyone an apology for when or how we discovered recovery. 

We’re here now. 

That, and the next decision we make, is what matters. 

drglenndoyle

Realistic self-talk in CPTSD recovery.

We’re not going to get anywhere in trauma recovery with superficial, feel good bullsh*t self talk. 

It’s true that trauma survivors are in the position of having to drastically overhaul our self talk to make trauma recovery work— because most of us were conditioned to beat the sh*t out of ourselves in our own head. 

Our old, familiar self talk isn’t going to work if our goal is to feel and function differently. 

But— as we experiment with new self talk, we need to be realistic about what will and won’t work for us. 

Our new self talk is going to feel a little bullsh*tty, at least at first. 

That dose’t mean it IS bullsh*t— it means it’s unfamiliar. No more; no less.

We have LOTS of experience with self talk that minimizes and belittles our feelings and needs— so self talk that actually respects and values our experiences and needs is going to feel unnatural in the first place. 

Trauma Brain is probably going to give you sh*t for trying out self talk that feels “fake.” Expect that. It’s what Trauma Brain does. 

So our new self talk is going to feel awkward enough just by virtue of the fact that it’s new— which makes it particularly important that, as we develop our new self talk “voice,” that we not try to go the route of superficial feel good bullsh*t. 

It’s real important we create a new style of self-talk that acknowledges the sh*t, instead of avoiding or minimizing it. 

It’s real important we create a style of self talk that cannot be confused or conflated with “toxic positivity.” 

It’s real important our new self talk be unflinchingly realistic about what we’re up against— and that it holds us accountable in compassionate, supportive ways. 

One of the biggest mistakes many CPTSD survivors make in trying to craft our new self-talk “voice” is not paying attention to what we do and don’t, will and won’t, find credible to listen to. 

If we try to talk to ourselves in touchy-feely language that tries to pretend the sharp edges of recovery don’t exist, we’re not gong to believe or trust it. 

I will be the first to admit that developing a self talk “voice” that supports us but avoids the toxic negativity and distortion of our old Trauma Bran programming is not easy. It requires that we pay a LOT of attention to what we’re saying to ourselves, and how we’re saying it. 

I wouldn’t ask you to do this if I didn’t deeply believe it was a nonnegotiable, front line trauma recovery task. 

We are simply not recovering from CPTSD while continuing to talk to ourselves like our bullies and abusers talked to us. 

And we’re definitely not recovering from CPTSD if the only alternative to that toxic self talk we can manage is happy talk nonsense. 

Be real with your new self talk— AND compassionate, AND patient, AND validating. 

I promise you: there is absolutely no contradiction between realism and self-compassion. None. 

drglenndoyle

CPTSD and decision making.

Ever make a less than perfect choice? Yes, you have. So have I. 

Humans make less than perfect choices. 

And CPTSD makes us particularly vulnerable to making choices that are not aligned with our values or our goals. 

Why do we make the choices we do? 

We make our choices because of what we understand to be our options in the moment, and the potential consequences of our choices. 

Making “good” choices supposes both that we have an accurate understanding of those options and consequences— and that there are, in fact, “good” choices available to us. 

Trauma f*cks up both of those assumptions. 

CPTSD is really good at poisoning our understanding of our options in the moment. 

CPTSD is good at getting in our head and convincing us we “can’t” or “shouldn’t” do things we actually can do. 

CPTSD is also really good at getting in our head and clouding our perception of the stakes or the consequences of certain choices. 

Put more simply: we do not think straight when CPTSD is in our ear, telling us what’s what. 

That’s not an “excuse;” that’s reality. CPTSD hijacks our attention, our perceptions, and our beliefs— i.e., our primary decision making tools. 

Is it any wonder that, when we’re under the influence of CPTSD, we make decisions that do not align with our values and our goals? 

Most often, when CPTSD is f*cking with us, we make decisions out of fear, despair, and artificially low self-esteem. 

We make decisions we would NOT make if we had a clear understanding of our resources, our worth, and the reality of the situation on the ground. 

Humans are not known for making perfect decisions anyway— but when CPTSD is factored in, it’s a miracle we can make “good enough “ decisions to brush our teeth and put our shoes on correctly. 

Extend yourself grace when it comes to imperfect decisions you’ve made while CPTSD is f*ckng with you. 

Trauma conditioning brainwashes us in the most classic sense: it gets us to believe things that are not true and do things that are not authentic to us. 

Yes, we are accountable for decisions we made before getting into trauma recovery. No, we don’t get a “free pass.” 

But true accountability actually “accounts” for the duress we were under when we made certain choices. 

And true accountability is ultimately changed behavior— which only happens when we’ve met our past imperfections with compassion and realism. 

So you’ve made imperfect decisions in the past. Welcome to the human species. 

So you’re committed to making decisions from here on out that are consistent with your identity, goals, and values. Welcome to trauma recovery. 

drglenndoyle

CPTSD anxiety is not “normal” anxiety.

CPTSD anxiety is not “normal” anxiety— and if we try to manage it like “normal” anxiety, we’re going to end up exhausted and demoralized. 

That said: lots of people in our life will assume CPTSD anxiety is “normal” anxiety. 

And those people will suggest all sorts of “normal” ideas for handling it. 

It’s not so much that the ideas for handling “normal” anxiety are bad, in and of themselves— it’s that people who assume our CPTSD anxiety “should” be more responsive to those ideas can get frustrated and judgmental when they don’t work. 

Everybody experiences anxiety at times. 

But it’s not the kind of crushing, consuming anxiety that accompanies CPTSD. 

CPTSD anxiety very often feels like we are going to literally die. 

It very often revolves around things we “know” we are avoiding or that we need to face— but we don’t at all feel equipped to face head on. 

Many CPTSD survivors describe their anxiety as being in an impossible bind: we cannot imagine continuing to exist this way, but we also cannot imagine NOT avoiding what every cell in our body is insisting we “have” to avoid. 

CPTSD anxiety feels like we’re simultaneously paralyzed and being pulled apart. 

That’s not “normal.” That’s not “pop a Xanax and think of Christmas” anxiety. 

CPTSD survivors are very often encouraged by the people around us to minimize or belittle our symptoms, including anxiety. 

“You’re making too big a deal of it.” 

“You’re only looking at the negative, of course you’re anxious.” 

“Everybody experiences anxiety, why are you making such a production out of it?” 

Of the things CPTSD survivors need when we’re trying to navigate post traumatic anxiety, judgment and shame are overwhelmingly unhelpful. 

Nobody is “choosing” CPTSD anxiety. 

Realistically managing CPTSD anxiety starts with meeting it with enormous validation and self-compassion. 

Use the tool of self-talk to affirm that this symptom is not “crazy”— it makes sense someway, somehow, to some part of us— and we are going to treat it with the attention and care it deserves. 

Get curious about the “part” of yourself that might be driving the anxiety— what does that “part” hold? What does it want? What does it need? 

We can manage CPTSD anxiety, but not from a place of judgment. 

CPTSD anxiety is no fun, and it is not a “choice”— and it can be exceedingly difficult when the people around us, often the people who should be on our side and have our back, lead off with invalidation. 

Easy does it. Breathe; blink; focus; and start off with validation and self-compassion. 

Just like with very CPTSD symptom we want to realistically manage and reduce. 

drglenndoyle

Every day in trauma recovery– and every survivor– is a mixed bag.

Every day in trauma recovery, including today, is going to be a mixed bag. 

What that means for you is that if you happen to be having a garbage day today, that’s okay. 

It’s not preferable, we don’t love it— but it’s okay. 

It’s not evidence you’re “failing.” 

It’s not evidence you’re screwed. 

Why does this matter? Because you, like me and every other trauma survivor, are likely super vulnerable to perfectionism. 

We truly believe that if today doesn’t go exactly to plan, we’re in trouble. 

We’ve been CONDITIONED to think in very black and white terms about things like “success” and “failure.” 

Just today I worked with multiple survivors who thought that because their sessions weren’t picture perfect, they “must” have “failed” me, or themselves, or their recovery. 

What BS. (Belief Systems— but also, you know, bullsh*t.)

The truth is, some of the most ultimately productive therapy sessions are wildly unpredictable and imperfect. 

The broader truth is that some of the most productive recovery days are wildly unpredictable and imperfect. 

It’s okay. 

What I want to communicate to every trauma survivor reading these words is, you are working a real world recovery. We want it to be realistic and sustainable— and that means we have to give up these fantasies about having “perfect” recovery days. 

Trauma recovery does not have perfect days because life does not have perfect days. 

If you or I happen to have a “perfect” recovery day in terms of choosing and using our tools and skills, that’s completely accidental, insofar as humans almost NEVER have “perfect” days. 

(No, you are not The Exception.”) 

Acknowledging that nearly 100% of our recovery days will be a mixed bag is not “making excuses” for underperforming. 

It’s acknowledging reality— which we survivors can struggle with, when reality isn’t great. 

When reality isn’t great, our default is often shame and self-blame— which makes perfect sense, insofar as we were often shamed and blamed growing up for…well, a lot of things, very few of which we actually our fault or responsibility. 

Trauma recovery asks us to scramble that pattern of reflexively shaming or blaming ourselves when our day or our choices are imperfect. 

Trauma recovery is a mixed bag. You and I are mixed bags. 

And that’s okay. 

The task in font of us is still the same: baby steps that are congruent with our recovery goals and values. 

Just do the next right thing— and forgive yourself. 

Again ,and again, and again.