drglenndoyle

We can’t stop people from judging us. But…

Rough truth: we will never be able to stop people from judging us. 

Human beings LOVE to judge other human beings. 

We love it so much we create reality TV shows that revolve around increasingly creative ways to judge contestants. 

Many of our conversations revolve around judgment: how good or bad we judge our pops stars, our athletes, or our internet psychology influencers to be. 

Trauma survivors are particularly sensitive to being judged. 

CPTSD survivors in particular tend to come from backgrounds where we were harshly judged in a million and one toxic ways, big and small. 

Add to that the fact that we CPTSD survivors are absolute champions and judging the sh*t out of ourselves for BEING CPTSD survivors. 

We judge our symptoms, we judge our feelings, we judge how we’re functioning. 

For many of us, harsh judgment isn’t even like a second language— it’s our native tongue. 

It’s true that we’ll never live in a culture that doesn’t love to judge, and it’s true that we’ll never be able to escape others’ judgment. 

It’s also true that others’ judgments about us will often be uninformed, unfair, and unkind.

Welcome to that category of stuff the Serenity Prayer identifies as “things we cannot change.” 

What can we do? 

We can work on that “judging the sh*t out of ourselves’ thing. 

Mind you: we judge the sh*t out of ourselves because we’ve been taught and conditioned to judge the sh*t out of ourselves. Getting OUT of that habit isn’t easy, or a one moment or one time decision. 

It takes work and time and patience and persistence to get INTO the habit of meeting our pain and past with compassion. 

Luckily, you and I and every trauma survivor reading this are hella skilled at doing things that are hard. 

Just notice when it’s happening. 

Notice when it’s happening, push pause, and leverage the tool of self-talk to affirm to yourself, “Naw. That’s the old thing. I’m going to do the new thing. The patience and acceptance and self-compassion thing.” 

Mind you: your system isn’t going to love this. Trauma Brain might literally laugh at you. 

Which is why we manage our expectations, why we don’t expect miracles, and why we remind ourselves we’re going to have to do this again and again (and again) to get into the self-kindness habit. 

Don’t demand or expect perfection. Just do your best. 

People are going to judge us. 

We don’t have to play along in our own head. 

drglenndoyle

Why trauma conditioning’s bullsh*t sounds so convincing.

It can be hard, during the course of the day, to remember that what our trauma conditioning tells us is not reality. 

It sure FEELS like reality. 


Especially the stuff about how we suck and deserve to suffer and are destined to suffer. 

That stuff all tends to FEEL true— not because it is true, but because it’s consistent with what we were told growing up, often by the very people who were supposed to love and support us the most. 

When the people who share your name and DNA spent years effortfully sh*ttng on you, it’s hard to believe you “deserve” anything better. 

When the people whose job it literally was to raise you to understand who you are fill your head with doubt and fear, it’s hard to believe that you’ll EVER feel or function better. 

What we’re exposed to growing up, implicitly and explicitly, becomes our baseline. 

It becomes our programming, our operating system— and it runs so quietly and pervasively in the background, we barely register it’s a thing. 

Fast forward to now— is it any wonder we meet ideas about how maybe we’re not the worst, maybe we have something to offer, maybe we can do better, with skepticism? 

We’ve been programmed to doubt ourselves. To distrust ourselves. To believe that, given enough time, we’ll “obviously” f*ck up this job, this relationship, this opportunity, just like we “f*ck everything up.” 

It’s not real. It’s programming. Conditioning. Propaganda. 

And, like all propaganda, Trauma Brain’s bullsh*t has a specific goal: to make you and me feel like trash. 

That’s it. 

But you and I need to remember, Trauma Brain’s bullsh*t will FEEL real— because it is consistent with our past conditioning. 

It’s familiar. 

It goes down easy, because we’ve heard it before. Our nervous system has been “softened” to its message. 

That doesn’t mean our self-loathing, self-distrustful thoughts or beliefs are “true.” 

The real truth is, you and I are human. We’re mixed bags. Some things we do well. Some things we could stand to improve. Believe me when I tell you, trauma recovery will put us in touch with both of those categories. 

Because that harsh narrative about ourselves feels true doesn’t mean it is true. 

Yes, challenging it can feel like a risk. Like we’re setting ourselves up to get punked or punished. 

 I wouldn’t ask you to take that risk if I didn’t truly believe it was worth it. 

It is worth it. You are worth it. 

drglenndoyle

Don’t assume. Ask.

Many CPTSD survivors find it triggering— infuriating— when others assume things about us. 

When others assume they know what we’re thinking. 

Or what we need. 

Or what we can and can’t do. 

Many people in general find it annoying when others make assumptions about them— but it can really get under the skin of CPTSD survivors. 

Trauma survivors walk around feeling misunderstood about 90% of the time. 

Very often we walk around feeling as if we’re carrying these secrets— secrets about our past and or pain that aren’t safe to tell anyone. 

After all, we know what happens when we’re real about our experiences with many people: they overreact, they jump to conclusions, they push us away. 

We have LOTS of experience with others’ assumptions about us being very, very off the mark— and almost never are others’ assumptions about us complimentary. 

Many survivors have experience with people not being willing or able to meaningfully engage with us about our symptoms, struggles, or needs— and feeling alienated and shamed as a result. 

Take a look around at what the culture thinks it “understands” about trauma in general, let alone complex trauma or dissociation— then imagine those often exaggerated, inaccurate assumptions were copied and pasted on to you. 

Not great, right? 

One of the most healing things trauma survivors can experience in relationships of all kinds are people willing to ask us about our experiences and needs— and who are willing to actually listen to our answers. 

People who won’t treat us like a caricature or stereotype. 

People who are willing and able to remember that we are more than our post traumatic injuries— that our injuries actually get in the way of us communicating who we are. They don’t DEFINE who we are. 

Making assumptions about trauma survivors, what they experience, what they need and want, is condescending and unnecessary. 

Understand that “trauma survivors” aren’t even one big, homogenous block of people— there are as many different kinds of trauma survivors as there are different varieties of traumatic experiences. 

Don’t assume. Ask. 

And then, listen. Really, really listen. 

drglenndoyle

You are here for a reason.

If I could rewire you— yes, you there, reading this— to understand and truly, deeply believe one thing, it’s that you are not near as much of a “burden” as you think you are. 

Trauma Brain, the internalized voices of our bullies and abuses that we play in our head on repeat, wants us to believe we are “nothing” but a “burden” to the people around us. 

That we bring “nothing” to the table. 

That other people are lying or mistaken or exaggerating when they express that we add positive things to their lives. 

“You are just a burden, you bring nothing of value” is one of Trauma Brain’s greatest hits. 

And, it’s complete BS. You know, Belief Systems. Also bullsh*t. 

I understand that sometimes being in our inner circle, especially as we struggle with and/or recover from trauma, can be rough. 

I don’t deny that our symptoms and struggles can be confusing and painful to the people around us. 

And, yes, being part of our support network as we figure this whole “trauma recovery” thing out can involve investments of time and energy and, and, and. 

And but also: that doesn’t equate to “we are no more than a burden to the people around us.” 

Let me ask you this: why is it important we recover from trauma? 

After all, no one “has” to work a recovery. 

We don’t recover for the hell of it. 

We recover because we have something to give. 

We recover because our presence matters in the world. 

We recover because our bullies and abusers have tried to deprive us of the opportunity to give to the world that which we have to give, that which enriches the world in ways only we can. 

And we are not about to let our bullies and abusers get away with that sh*t. 

I understand that right now Trauma Brain is in your ear, listing al the reasons why I’m wrong, telling you that your life doesn’t matter, that you have nothing to give, nothing to offer the world except drama and inconvenience and heartache. 

As a rule, the harder Trauma Brain works to NOT let you believe something, the more true an important it probably is. 

You have things to offer. 

You have things to offer that nobody else can. 

If I’d believed it when Trauma Brain told me the same thing, you wouldn’t be reading these words now. 

Do not believe Trauma Brain. 

You are not just the cost or toll of supporting you. 

You are here— both on earth, and reading this right now— for a reason. 

Make it your job in recovery to figure that reason out. 

drglenndoyle

Going our own way.

A rough part of CPTSD recovery is that we often have to disregard well meaning advice from smart people in our lives. 

That can be a bigger mind f*ck than we sometimes appreciate. 

The thing about CPTSD is that it every often does a number on our self-esteem and self-concept. 

Whereas PTSD often makes us afraid of the world, CPTSD can often make us uncertain about ourselves. 

And when we’re uncertain about ourselves, we want to turn to people we trust to help us understand what things mean and what to do. 

Unfortunately, many of the people in our lives, even the smartest, best intentioned people, don’t understand trauma or what trauma recovery requires. 

They’ll tell us that in order to sleep better, we need a dark, quiet room— you know, the standard “sleep hygiene” suggestions. 

They’ll tell us that in order to feel and function better, we need to have a “positive attitude.” 

They’ll tell us that in order to feel better physically, we need to follow very specific diet and exercise routines that have us policing and judging our eating and movement. 

Anybody who struggles with CPTSD or has delved its what we know about realistic, sustainable trauma recover knows that many suggestions that may be good for non-traumatized nervous and endocrine systems, get turned on their had for trauma survivors. 

And this invites what we call cognitive dissonance: what we know from our lived experience is at odds with what we’re being told by smart people we trust. 

As I say: it’s a mind f*ck. 

And all that is before the feelings of guilt and confusion that arise when we contemplate NOT following the advice that our smart, well meaning friends and acquaintances have offered. 

The reality is that much of our trauma recovery, we have to design and develop and implement on our own. 

Many of the things we really do need, really won’t be understandable to people who are not inside our head and our skin. 

Many survivors don’t have a lot of experience in pushing back against what we are being told or encouraged to do by others— and many of us also have experience with being shamed or punished when we go our own way. 

None of this is easy. 

As I’ve said often, trauma recovery can be a dark ride and a lonely road. 

Remember that our first responsibility in this whole thing is not to anyone else’s feelings, or even to our relationship with anyone else— our first responsibility is to our safety, stability, and recovery. 

I know. I wish this was easier, too. 

But realistic recovery requires us to develop a stronger sense of personal identity than many human beings get around to developing in their entire lifetimes. 

Easy does it. Just take this one day, one hour, one micro choice at a time. 


Breathe; blink; focus; and do the next right thing— for you. 

drglenndoyle

“Good vibes only?” F*ck that.

Let’s be clear: realistic recovery does not require “good vibes only.” 

Many CPTSD survivors get sh*t for our “negative vibes.” 

“How do you expect to feel and function better, if your’e constantly finding fault?” 

“Of course you’re miserable, look at your attitude!” 

On, and on, and on. 

Often we get that “helpful” feedback from people who honestly think they’re helping. They see a connection between how we express ourselves and what they assume is “causing” our pain— that is, our attitude. 

Thing is, they have it wrong. 

Our attitude doesn’t cause our suffering. 

Our attitude is often a consequence of what we’ve been through, and what we need to do every day to continue “functioning.” 

I can tell you from long experience that many survivors who work successful trauma and addiction recoveries can come off as more than a little cynical. 

I can also tell you that superficial cynicism in and of itself is not an obstacle to recovery for most survivors. 

The truth is, working a trauma recovery is an enormously involved, exhausting task. 

OF COURSE we’re a little cynical. 

Go into a Twelve Step recovery meeting, and listen to the old timers talk, the ones who have decades of sober time— they’re rarely about the sunshine and rainbows and Care Bears. 

And that’s okay. 

Trauma recovery does not ask us to suddenly become pathological optimists in what we say and how we express ourselves. 

This is a dark ride, and we get to acknowledge it’s a dark ride. 

Doing the recovery “stuff,” designing and following through on our daily and hourly recovery routines and rituals, does not require us to be Ned Flanders. 

It requires us to be authentic. To not kid ourselves. To not deny or disown or dissociate unpleasant realities the way that 99% of the world “out there does.” 

Yeah— it’s a dark ride. 

You get to be exactly who you are on this journey. 

And if that doesn’t happen to be the most superficially optimistic or enthusiastic person on the planet at this moment? So be it. 

Authenticity is way more important to recovery than surface level cheerfulness. 

drglenndoyle

“Everyone is mad at me and everybody hates me.”

Trauma Brain may take time every day to “helpfully” inform you that everybody is mad at you and everybody hates you. 

One of the most common experiences of many trauma survivors is worrying every day— or just feeling certain, every day— that people are mad at us. That people hate us. That people are about to yell at us or turn on us. 

Mind you: someone may very well be mad at you. People do get mad, sometimes for irrational or not terribly understandable reasons, and some peoples’ anger can absolutely be over the top. 

That is to say: Trauma Brain is not necessarily wrong about someone maybe being mad at you. 

What Trauma Brain— what I call the internalized voices of our bullies and abusers, which we unwittingly play on repeat for decades— is distorting, however, is what that might mean. 

First off, we’re usually not in as much “trouble” as Trauma Brain wants us to think we are. 

Even if someone IS mad at us, that doesn’t necessarily equate to being “in trouble” or in danger the way Trauma Brain wants us to believe (which again, doesn’t mean we’re NEVER actually in trouble or in danger due to somebody’s anger— it just  means Trauma Brain is most often distorting things, as it does). 

What’s usually happening when we feel this way is, we’re getting yanked into emotional flashback. 

Emotional flashbacks aren’t quite the same as sensory flashbacks, the traditional yanked-back-in-time experience the world calls “flashbacks.” 

When we’re experiencing an emotional flashback, we’re often aware that we’re in the here-and-now, at least as far as our senses go— but mentally and emotionally, we suddenly feel like we did back there, back then. 

Usually small. Usually dependent. Usually afraid. 

That “in trouble” feeling is real good at evoking emotional flashbacks— making us feel like a kid again, and not in a good way. 

We need to remember, when we’re worried or convinced we’re “in trouble” and about to be yelled at or abandoned, that we may very well be responding from a place of emotional flashback— and we need to manage it with compassion, realism, and patience, not panic. 

Yes, this can absolutely be hard to do. 

But now that you’ve read this, you’re going to have at last a little easier time remembering the next time it happens to you. 

Acknowledge what’s happening, breathe, and turn toward that scared, stuck-in-the-past part of you with compassion and patience. 

Remind yourself that, no matter who may or may not be mad at you now, no matter the “trouble” you may or may not be in now, you will handle it. 

Remind yourself that the days where you had to handle scary situations on your own are over— that the young “parts” of you no longer need to scrap and improvise to survive. 

The “parts” of us that get stuck in emotional flashback need, more than anything, presence and reassurance— not least because they’re used to being shamed, belittled, or ignored. 

Again: I’m not saying that it’s impossible for someone to be mad at you, or for you to be “in trouble” with them. I’ve been in plenty situations where another adult was quite mad at me, and I was definitely “in trouble” with them. 

What I’m saying is that our trauma conditioning will try to spin that into an emergency in our nervous system that it doesn’t have to be. 

(And, not for nothing, in my experience Trauma Brain’s insistence that “everyone” is mad at us is very often exaggerated to the point of qualifying as “bullsh*t.”)

Once again, we’re back to the core of realistic trauma recovery: our relationship with ourselves. Which, for trauma recovery to stick, has to be compassionate, accepting, realistic, and supportive.

A tall order, I know, when we’ve been conditioned by trauma to hate and distrust ourselves. 

That’s why we breathe; blink; focus;  and take all of this one day, one hour, one minute at a time. 

drglenndoyle

We don’t “think” or “decide” our way out of CPTSD.

CPTSD is not the kind of thing that can just be “thought” or “decided” away. 

But the way our culture talks about “overcoming trauma,” you might think CPTSD is the kind of thing we can just “opt out of,” provided we have enough “courage.” 

So many survivors, day after day, are subjected to utter silliness from the the culture, the media, and even people in our lives, when the subject of trauma comes up. 

People who don’t understand CPTSD is a different animal from PTSD will confidently opine that “exposure” is the way to heal trauma. 

People whose only reference point for dissociation is movies in which Dissociative Identity Disorder is dramatized and distorted will confidently describe what DID supposedly looks like and how it woks. 

People who can’t distinguish between self harm or suicidal ideation and self harming or suicidal behavior will confidently discuss how to manage personal risk and safety. 

On, and on. Everybody who has access to the internet, or who otherwise has access to our ears, might seem to have opinions, sometimes strong ones, about how to manage or heal our CPTSD. 

Many times their suggestions boil down to, “have you tried NOT thinking or feeling that way?” 

Voice some version of this to a trauma survivor, and watch how our expression goes blank. 

Because we’ve heard that a lot. 

We’ve heard that healing CPTSD is a matter of “leaving the past in the past.” 

We’ve hard that healing CPTSD is a matter of “changing our thoughts.” 

We’ve heard that healing CPTSD is a matter of “forgiveness.” 

We’ve heard a lot of things— but what we don’t often hear is any kind of nuance or depth about how any of those “suggestions” is supposed to work in the real world. 

In my experience, real world CPTSD recovery has to take seriously the fact that our symptoms are not “choices”— they are the result of years of conditioning, programming, and coercion. 

Our nervous and endocrine systems CAN change— but only with a recovery blueprint that truly understands and respects our injury. 

I believe the bedrock skills of CPTSD recovery are self-talk, mental focus, and managing our physiology, especially our breathing— but HOW we leverage these tools is not obvious or easy. To try to reduce them to “leaving the past in the past” is ineffective— and insulting. 

Realistic, sustainable CPTSD recovery is going to ask us to tune out  much of the cultural noise around trauma and recovery. 

Realistic CPTSD recovery is going to ask us to check in with ourselves, a lot, and work our recovery day by day, hour by hour. 

Realistic CPTSD recovery is going to ask us to get very real about how little “control” we have over how we feel and function— and very real about how we can leverage the actual INFLUENCE we have over our feelings and choices today. 

Do not get discouraged or otherwise head f*cked by anybody’s breezy assertion that we can “think” or “decide” our way out of CPTSD. 

You’re not “crazy,” “stupid,” or “lazy”— CPTSD is a b*tch. 

Recovery starts by realistically understanding what we’re up against— conditioning— and how long term patterns actually change: one baby step, one day, one hour, one minute, one micro choice at a time. 

Breathe; blink; focus. 

drglenndoyle

Notice.

Notice when you’re telling yourself a story about how their behavior, is your fault. 

Notice when you’re telling yourself a story about how you’re “only” suffering because you are “weak.” Or “stupid.” Or, or, or. 

Notice when you’re telling yourself a story about how you don’t “deserve” better than you’re experiencing now. 

Notice when you’re telling yourself a story about how you’re The Exception to the fact that human brains and nervous systems can change with experience and guidance and support. 

Notice when you’re telling yourself a story about how because certain things happened to you, you “must” be “destined” for pain and misery for the rest of your life. 

Notice when you’re telling yourself a story about how none of the recovery tools that work for other survivors, will work for you. 

Notice when you’re telling yourself a story about how you “should” be further along in you recovery by now. 

Notice when you’re telling yourself a story about how you “should” be fairer or kinder or give another chance to people or institutions that hurt you. 

Notice when you’re telling yourself a story about how recovery is too complicated for you to wrap your head around. 

Notice when you’re telling yourself a story about how you don’t have the “willpower” or patience or focus to meaningfully recover from trauma. 

Notice when you’re telling yourself a story about how you “can’t” let on to anyone, under any circumstances, how much you’re struggling.

Notice when you’re telling ourself a story about how the “memory holes” in your past “must” mean that there’s nothing there. 

Notice when you’re telling yourself a story about how what happened to you wasn’t “bad enough” to result in your current symptoms and struggles. 

Just notice. 

Notice, and remind yourself: this is BS. Belief Systems. 

They’re Belief Systems so common to trauma survivors that I can list example after example just now, and know that it will resonate with most of the survivors reading my page. 

None of those are true. 

Some of them start out with kernels of truth, but Trauma Brain— what I call the internalized voices of our bullies and abusers, that play in our head on repeat for years— effortfully, very effectively, warps them into self-defeating assertions that we buy hook, line, and sinker. 

Why do we swallow Trauma Brain BS? Not because we’re “stupid.” 


Because we’ve been brainwashed. Conditioned. Programmed. 

Realistic trauma recovery is about scratching the record. Waking up. 

Seeing the stories for what they are. 

And creating new stories for ourselves that are more reflective of reality and more relevant to who we are and what we’re all about. 

drglenndoyle

CPTSD, self trust, and conditioning.

CPTSD is going to have you not trusting yourself. 

CPTSD is going to have you telling yourself stories about how you’re struggling because you’re “lazy” or “stupid”— and minimizing the obstacles that have been thrown in your path. 

Remember what CPTSD is: in contrast to PTSD, which revolves largely (but not only) around intrusive memories and reactions to our trauma itself, CPTSD is largely (but not only ) about what happened to us has conditioned us to believe about ourselves and the world. 

Most of the time our CPTSD conditioning hones in on how much we suck. 

We can often trace that conditioning back to messages we received— sometimes explicitly, sometimes implicitly— growing up. 

Many CPTSD survivors describe being told that the main or only reason people struggle or suffer is because they are “weak.” 

Many CPTSD survivors remember parents and other adults in their world who convinced them to accept “no excuses” for struggling— who conditioned them to believe that everything was their fault, and everything was their responsibility. 

That BS (Belief System— but also the other kind of “BS”)— “everything is my fault, and everything is my responsibility— is maybe the most common mindset to be found among CPTSD survivors. 

Even if we back up and try to look at it “objectively,” we have Trauma Brain, what I call the internalized voices of our bullies and abusers, “helpfully” telling us that it doesn’t matter what we would tell anybody else in our situation: we are CLEARLY at fault for our own pain. 

Moving past that “everything and everything” BS, as I call it, is a core task of trauma recovery. 

And maybe a little surprisingly, it begins with confronting fear. 

Fear of what it would mean for us to stop believing everything was our fault, and everything is our responsibility. 

Fear of what others might think or say if we gave ourselves a break, cut ourselves a little slack. 

Fear of what those adults who taught us to think that way would think if they knew we were letting go of what they tried so hard to drill into our head. 

My point is: it’s not a one time decision to “let go” of CPTSD BS. 

We don’t believe those things for the hell of it. They were conditioned into us. Change is going to require reconditioning ourselves. Rewiring ourselves. Reformatting our hard drive. 

That is to say, it’s a process. 

And, like most processes that ask us to reconsider things we’ve thought, felt, believed, or done for a long time, it’s going to take time and feel awkward or painful at points. 

That’s why we keep repeating “one day at a time” over and over again in recovery— and why I frequently take that down to one hour or one minute at a time. 

Or, even more simply: breathe, blink, focus. 

You can learn to trust yourself again— or, maybe, for the first time. 

CPTSD isn’t going to make it easy. 

But then again, if you’re reading this, you’re probably used to doing hard things. 

You’re up to this.