drglenndoyle

“Ugh. This ‘recovery’ thing is taking forever.”

A common experience for trauma survivors working our recovery is, this is taking a lot longer than we thought. 

Mind you, we’re never quite sure how long we figured this was “supposed” to take. No one gave us a user’s manual for recovery. Or life, for that matter. 

All we know is, often we have the feeling that we’ve been grinding away at this “recovery” thing for f*ckin’ ever— and some days we’re not entirely sure we’ve made any progress at all. 

I’ve definitely been there. So has literally every survivor who has ever worked a recovery. 

The thing about recovery is, it’s not an “event” that “happens.” 

It’s not even an “accomplishment” we “earn,” although we do work plenty hard to design, execute, and support our recovery, much like we did when we were “earning” other “accomplishments.” 

What trauma recovery is, is a lifestyle. It’s a frame. 

It’s a set of tools, skills, and philosophies that we engage and develop so we can do all the OTHER in our life that matters to us. 

The reason recovery can feel like it’s going slow or taking forever is because, if we’re doing it right, aspects of recovery touch every other thing we do or think about. 

It’s not taking forever because we’re doing it wrong— it’s feeling extended because we continue to exist. And as long as we continue to exist, we’re going to be in recovery. 

And that’s actually the good news. 

Trauma recovery is a project, yes, but it’s not a project we do for its own sake. 

Nobody’s handing out medals— or demerits, for that matter— for trauma recovery. It’s not a competition. 

The best analogy I can think of when it comes to the experience of trauma recovery is, it’s like a philosophical or religious conversion. 

Recovery is not “religious” in the sense that we become devotees, or even congregants— but it’s similar to religion insofar as it is designed to help us understand and process the rest of our life. 

(Of note, recovery is significantly unlike religion insofar as there is absolutely no moral connotations to struggling with it. Nobody is going to hell for making recovery inconsistent decisions. Doing well in recovery doesn’t make us a “good” person. And the rewards of recovery show themselves in our day to day life, over time— not any kind of afterlife in which we’’ll be judged.)

Recovery can also be likened to a fitness regimen. It entails skills we must learn and endurance we must develop— but the real benefit of recovery, much like the benefit of fitness or athletic training, is in our increased day to day functionality. 

When you adopt a new religion or philosophy, or you embark upon a new, fitness-conscious lifestyle, you don’t think of it as “taking forever.” You think of it as a thing you do now— and a thing you’ll keep doing, as long as it continues to work for you. 

I completely understand that feeling of, “this is taking forever.” We want to see major difference in how we feel and function sooner, rather than later. 

We’ve been struggling for so long, and we’re f*cking sick of it. We don’t want to take on another thing in recovery with which we’ll continue to struggle. 

This is when it’s useful to shift our perspective. 

Trauma recovery isn’t a puzzle we have to solve or a competition we have to win— it’s a set of mental and behavioral tools that will help us solve every OTHER puzzle in our life, help us win every OTHER competition in our life. 

Recovery is not taking forever. Recovery is there to support us for as long as we need it. 

Recovery is friend. 

You can do this. 

drglenndoyle

Trauma Brain’s favorite trick.

Trauma Brain is going to try to trick you into wasting your focus and bandwidth on the past. 

Don’t take that bait. 

When we’ve struggled with a trauma response or made a recovery inconsistent decision, the temptation is going to be to judge ourselves harshly— to replicate the behavior of our bullies and abusers by kicking ourselves. Repeatedly. 

Trauma Brain is going to try to get us to keep kicking ourselves by telling us that if we stop kicking ourselves, we’re “letting ourselves off the hook” and “not taking responsibility” for our struggles or poor decisions. 

We definitely know we don’t want to do that— so we keep kicking ourselves. 

Every moment we spend judging and kicking ourselves is a moment not dedicated to strengthening our recovery tools or making a better decision. 

Most everything Trauma Brain does to us is an attempt to distract us from asking Recovery Supporting Questions (RSQ’s) or following through with Recovery Supporting Rituals (RSR’s). 

Trauma Brain knows that if we constantly as RSQ’s and perform RSR’s, then we recover— but it knows if it can distract us from our RSQ’s and RSR’s, we’ll eventually burn out and revert back to our autopilot. 

Our autopilot, of course, was programmed by our trauma experiences. Trauma Brain IS our autopilot. 

Think of Trauma Brain as an autopilot enabled with artificial intelligence— that will work overtime to get us to quit trying to take the wheel ourselves. 

I’m a firm believer in accountability. Accountability is super important in both addiction and trauma recovery. Without accountability, recovery is impossible. 

But kicking ourselves for the last recovery inconsistent decision we made is not accountability. 

Refusing to stay focused on our last bad decision is not “letting ourselves off the hook.” No one is asking us to like or approve of the last recovery inconsistent decision we made. 

We need to be realistic about the fact that recovery is largely about allocating resources. 

All of us have a limited amount of energy and time and bandwidth. Most of us survivors actually have less of these resources than many people, because we’re exhausted from having been in survival mode for months and years at a time. 

Kicking ourselves over our last bad decision is simply not a wise investment of those scarce resources. 

Kicking ourselves will never result in us being able to un-make that recovery inconsistent decision. 

What kicking ourselves will do is make us feel like garbage— which doesn’t exactly help us make the NEXT decision any better.

Behavioral psychologists know that punishment simply isn’t a particularly effective at lasting behavior change. 

Most animals, when they are punished for making a decision, only learn to avoid similar choices in the short term— but they come to hate whoever is doling out the punishment in the long term. 

When we punish ourselves for recovery inconsistent decisions, we are not making it any more likely that the next decision will be recovery consistent— but we are teaching ourselves to hate and distrust ourselves. 

That’s not how we build self-esteem, and it’s not how we make better choices. 

Trauma Brain knows all that. Which is why Trauma rain wants us kicking ourselves whenever we make a recovery inconsistent decision. 

We do not have to love every decision we make. We do not have to approve of every decision we make. I know I neither love nor approve of every decision I’ve made, even in the last twenty four hours. 

But if we’re working a realistic, sustainable recovery, we do have to manage our self-talk and mental focus in such a way that we are facing forward, not backward. 

Neither trauma nor addiction recovery can be navigated looking backward. 

Don’t take the bait. Refocus. Again, and again, and again. And again. 

drglenndoyle

The avoidance scam.

The biggest scam trauma and addiction play on us is convincing us we have to avoid. 

They tell us we have to avoid certain memories, feelings, or situations, “or else.” 

They tell us, if we “have” to be exposed to those memories, feelings or situations, we also “have” to harm ourselves or dissociate. 

Trauma and addiction play on our fear and our pain to make us believe what they say is true. 

It works— not because we’re stupid, but because we’re tired and hurting and scared. 

It is not our fault that we are so susceptible to the lies trauma and addiction are constantly telling us. 

The temptation is going to be to blame and shame ourselves for believing those lies— which, actually, is another part of why the trauma and addiction strategy to make us feel like sh*t is so ingenious: it works on multiple levels. 

We believe their lies, and feel like sh*t; then we feel like sh*t for believing their lies. 

It’s really, really hard to not blame and shame ourselves when trauma and addiction are f*cking with our head. 

It’s real important we remember: this is what trauma and addiction do. They f*ck with our head.

We could be doing everything in our life perfectly, and trauma and addiction would STILL find a way to f*ck with our head. 

The things trauma and addiction tell us have virtually NOTHING to do with us. Not really.

The things trauma and addiction tell us we “have” to do have NOTHING to do with ANYTHING we actually “have” to do. Not really. 

There is no denying that certain memories, feelings, and situations are highly triggering. They’re awful. Nobody WANTS to endure them. 

Every human being, if given the choice, would avoid those memories, feelings, and situations if they could. We are not weirdos for wanting to stay away from them at all costs. 

The thing is: if those memories, feelings, and situations are part of our experience, we don’t actually have the choice to avoid them. Not totally. 

Trauma and addiction, however, will lie to us and tell us we CAN effectively avoid them, or at least avoid awareness of them, by self-harming, dissociating, or relapsing. 

Believe me when I tell you: none of those options are actual mechanisms of avoidance.

They may seem like they allow us to avoid certain memories, feelings, and situations— but in the end, that avoidance is temporary and costly. 

If we want to recover, really recover, from either trauma or addiction, we need to get real about our relationship with avoidance. 

This was, and is, one of the hardest things for me, personally, in my own trauma and addiction recovery. 

I really, really want to avoid certain memories, feelings, and situations— and I am as susceptible as anyone (if not more susceptible!) to the lies trauma and addiction tell me about what I “have” to do to either avoid or tolerate exposure to those things. 

I, just like every survivor reading this, have to remember and remind myself, over and over and over again: there are absolutely zero circumstances in which I “have” to relapse. 

There are absolutely zero circumstances in which I “have” to harm myself. 

There are absolutely zero circumstances in which I “have” to avoid certain memories, feelings, or situations, “or else.” 

That is not to say tolerating these memories, feelings, or situations, is easy. It’s not. It’s the furthest thing FROM easy. If ANY of this was easy, we wouldn’t have to think about ANY of this, ever. 

But trauma and addiction were feeding me lies about my ability to withstand certain memories, feelings, and situations— which was impacting my willingness to try to withstand certain memories, feelings, and situations. 

It took me a long time, but I woke up. I was blind, but now I see. 

Trauma and addiction are never going to trick me into trying to un-see their bullsh*t, ever again. 

drglenndoyle

Tell me a tale– something with fire, to break from the sorrows.

Question the stories that make you miserable. The ones that you’ve been conditioned to tell yourself— and to believe. 

It’s not your fault that you were conditioned to tell and retell those stories to yourself, all day, every day, in you head. That’s how conditioning works. 

It’s not your fault that you were conditioned to believe stories that make you feel miserable. That’s how conditioning works. 

Nobody reading this is miserable because they’ve made a “choice” to be. 

We struggle and suffer because we’ve been conditioned to think, feel, and do certain things— and to tell ourselves stories about why we “have” to think, feel and do those things. 

That’s what so many people don’t understand about trauma responses: they are not “choices.” 

Conditioning, programming, brainwashing— they all act upon us without our consent, often without our knowledge, even. 

Many of the “decisions” we think we’ve made over the years have been far less “free” than we realize— because many of us have been subject to heavy conditioning. 

Life conditions everybody to think, feel, and do certain things— but when we’ve experienced trauma, that conditioning tends to be particularly insidious. 

Trauma conditioning tends to get us believing stories about how we’re not good enough. 

Trauma conditioning tends to get us believing stories about how our abuse was our fault. 

Trauma conditioning tends to get us believing stories about how the fact we were neglected is evidence that we weren’t, or aren’t, deserving of positive attention or getting our basic needs met. 

Trauma conditioning tends to get us believing stories about what is or isn’t possible for our life. 

Trauma conditioning tends to get us believing stories about whether we can form or sustain relationships. 

Trauma conditioning tends to get us believing stories about what will absolutely, definitely, without question, happen next, in our life and in the world. 

Mind you: those stories are just that. Stories. 

Some of them may contain kernels of truth— but almost never in the way our trauma conditioning is presenting the “facts.” 

Trauma recovery necessarily involves questioning the stories our trauma conditioning is telling us— and make no mistake, that is absolutely easier said than done. 

In addition to getting us telling and believing stories about how much we suck, our trauma conditioning is also real good at getting us to believe that we’ll be “in trouble” if we question or challenge the stories its telling us. 

We wind up in this position where we have stories, on repeat, inside our head, telling us how much we suck and how hopeless we are— and also, stories about how if we question or challenge those stories, we’re going to get yelled at or punished. 

That “in trouble” feeling is a potent scarecrow for many trauma survivors of all ages. So our stories remain unquestioned, usually for years. 

Questioning and challenging the stories trauma tells us about ourselves takes courage. 

It takes a willingness to sit with discomfort and uncertainty— which is hard, when one of the main storylines trauma has told us over the years is that we “can’t” or “shouldn’t have to” sit with discomfort or uncertainty. 

The truth is, of course we can. 

The truth is, we are far more capable and resourceful and deserving than we have ever given ourselves credit for. 

The truth is, the way we were hurt and made to feel growing up does not have to dictate the timbre of our emotional world for the rest of our life. 

Realistic trauma recovery requires the courage and willingness to interrupt our stories. 

It requires us to have the creativity and curiosity necessary to consider revising, editing, or rewriting altogether our stories about who we are and what we’re all about. 

As any writer can tell you, that can be an intimidating process. 

Which is why we take it one page, one paragraph, one sentence at a time. 

You’re up to this. Breathe; blink; focus. 

drglenndoyle

Internal communication and “parts” work in trauma recovery.

Trauma recovery doesn’t work without our commitment to communicate with ourselves respectfully and consistently. 

Many survivors get real sick of the back and forth in our head and the tug of war in our nervous system. 

We get frustrated with how we think, feel, and function— and very often we take out this frustration on ourselves, in how we talk back to our “parts.” 

Whether or not we happen to have Dissociative Identity Disorder, many trauma survivors experience the “parts” of ourselves as inconvenient and stubborn. 

Especially if dissociation is a big part of our symptom picture, our “parts” can often seem like they exist to interrupt our day, complicate our relationships, and make it hard to focus on our job. 

So, we get in the habit of trying to ignore our parts— or, if we converse with them at all, expressing our frustration with and disdain for them. 

It’s totally legit to be frustrated by trauma reactions and symptoms. Our symptoms and struggles can be profoundly life interrupting. 

It’d be weird to NOT get frustrated with them, especially the longer we’ve lived with them. 

It’s also understandable to wish that our “parts” would just “go away.” 

We look around and see other people whose personalties and ability to function hasn’t been splintered by trauma, and we’re sorely tempted to pressure ourselves to “get our shit together.” 

Here’s the thing: no survivor is going to realistically recover from trauma while ignoring or antagonizing our “parts.” 

Trauma recovery is, fundamentally, about repairing and nurturing our relationship with ourselves— and that means our “parts.” 

You’re not wrong or weird for being frustrated with your parts, and you’re not alone in wishing they would just go away and leave you alone to function like a “normal” person— but in trauma recovery we have to remind ourselves, again and again, that functioning like a non-traumatized person isn’t our journey. 

To deny, disown, or ignore our “parts” isn’t a realistic option. Not if we actually want to recover from trauma. 

We are going to have SOME kind of relationship with our “parts.” They’re not going away. 

You are probably not going to be the one trauma survivor whose symptomatology does NOT include splintering between knowledge, memories, feelings, and functions. 

Many reading this may be familiar with the technology called “Internal Family Systems,” which refers to one way of conceptualizing and relating to “parts”— and while many survivors find IFS useful, it’s not the only or necessarily the best way to do “parts work” in your trauma recovery. 

If you follow my work, you know that I believe everybody’s recovery needs to be first and foremost tailored to them. Your recovery needs to work for you— whether or not it fits neatly into anyone else’s conceptual model. 

So what can I recommend about “parts work,” broadly? 

Any work you do around “parts” needs to be rooted in respect and compassion. 

Even if a “part” of us is threatening, angry, or otherwise aggressive, we need to start out from the premise that its viewpoint, needs, and role are all valid. 

Internal communication, which is what I call the skillset of relating to and integrating “parts” into our life and functioning, needs to include an affirmation that we and our “parts” are all on the same side— and that we do not desire our “parts” to shut up or disappear. 

I often see “integration” in “parts work” discussed in ways that might make your “parts” believe that we’re out to make them disappear. Nothing could be further from the truth. 

If we’re doing internal communication and other “parts work” right, our “parts” will feel— and be— MORE heard and respected than they ever have been…and their priorities factored into our decision making in meaningful ways than has ever been the case before. 

Make no mistake: “parts work” can be complicated and confusing at times. Which checks out, because it’s trauma recovery work— not to mention relationship work. Both trauma recovery and relationships can be complicated and confusing at times. 

But, if we’re doing “parts work” with intelligence, consistency, and humility, it can be a game changer in our trauma recovery. 

Again: we don’t have the option of NOT somehow relating to our “parts.” 

The only decision we truly have is whether our relationship with our “parts” will be conscious, communicative, and productive, or nah. 

drglenndoyle

“Self love” is oversold.

We don’t, actually, have to “love” everything about ourselves. 

A lot of the discourse around trauma and addiction recovery tends to return to the subject of “self love,” with the message that we “have” to love ourselves if our recovery is going to succeed. 

Many survivors feel intimidated and alienated by this message— because the truth is, there are a lot of things about ourselves that we don’t love, and that we very much want to change. 

The messages we receive about the importance of self-love often seem to devolve into superficial demands that we not want or try to change anything about ourselves. 

Here’s the thing: we are working our trauma recovery explicitly because we want to change certain things about ourselves— things that have not been working for us, that have endangered or almost ruined our lives. 

If we don’t want to change anything about ourselves, why work a recovery? 

Furthermore, is it all that “loving” toward ourselves if we continue on in patterns of feeling and functioning that are miserable for us and the people and pets we care about? 

There’s also the small issue of: if we truly can’t recover “until” we love ourselves, many survivors are going to be waiting years before working or recovery— because, spoiler, most of us do not love ourselves now, and we will not develop self-love overnight. 

I do not think we “have” to love ourselves to recover from trauma or addiction. 

We DO have to AVOID behaving in self-hating or self-sabotaging ways— that is to say, we have to avoid behaving consistently with how we’ve been taught to behave— but the opposite of those behavior patterns doesn’t have to always or automatically equal “self love.” 

I think “self love,” as a feeling, is a tall order, and often a moving target. 

The truth is, we’re going to feel all kinds of different ways about ourselves at different times. 

If we can only behave toward ourselves in recovery supporting ways when we happen to feel “loving” toward ourselves, we’re depriving ourselves of resources and support in those times we need them the most: when we absolutely hate ourselves. 

The quality of our trauma or addiction recovery is proportional to our willingness and ability to show up for ourselves when we LEAST feel we deserve it.

To me it’s impractical to insist that survivors who have been taught to hate themselves, suddenly turn around and love themselves as a prerequisite to recovery. 

I actually think the opposite is usually what happens: we work our recovery with consistency, even when we don’t feel like it— and, over time, it’s showing up for ourselves again and again that produces and facilitates the emotional experience of self-love. 

That is to say: we usually don’t feel our way into loving behaviors; more often we behave our way into loving feelings. 

Many people get “love” confused with “acceptance.” 

We don’t necessarily have to love ourselves to recover from trauma— and that’s the good news, because many trauma survivors can’t wrap our head around what “self love” would even look like at this point. 

We DO have to accept ourselves— including all the stuff we don’t like, and all the stuff we want to change. 

“Accept” does not imply that we don’t try to change those things we dislike about ourselves. To the contrary: in order to realistically change things about our lives that aren’t working right now, we have to radically accept that they are as they are right now. 

Don’t get up in your head about the “self love” thing. It’s oversold, mostly because it makes for pretty sounding social media posts. 

Will you probably like, and maybe eventually love, yourself more as you work your recovery? Yes— working your recovery is the most realistic path to increased self-esteem that exists. 

But it’s real easy to let whether we do or don’t love ourselves become yet another recovery task that is associated with pressure and shame. 

Don’t let it. It’s not necessary. 

You just focus in on what you have to do, today, to realistically support your recovery and make the journey .01% easier for the “you” of tomorrow. 

That, after all, is a loving behavior. 

drglenndoyle

Complex trauma is about patterns and adaptations.

Complex trauma was trauma we had to adapt to. 

We didn’t WANT to adapt to it— we had to, because it was woven into our everyday life and relationships. 

Traumatic stress was normalized to the point that we didn’t register it as “traumatic,” and we barely even registered it as “stress”— it was just life. 

We had to continue “functioning”— such as it was— so we adapted. But not in the positive sense of that word. 

Adapting to chronic, pervasive traumatic stress rarely involves positive or healthy changes— because environments that produce traumatic stress rarely also include resources and support kids need to change in positive, healthy ways. 

It’s not that we lacked the capability of adapting or changing in positive, healthy ways— it’s that we almost surely lacked the safety and role modeling necessary to do so. 

So— we adapted the way we adapted. 

We dissociated. We self-harmed. We acted out. 

We developed ways of denying and disowning and psychologically distancing ourselves from an existence we couldn’t distance ourselves from physically. 

Why is it important to understand that complex trauma is all about adaptation? 

Because when we’re looking to change our patterns of feeling and functioning, we have to think in terms of reconditioning ourselves— changing patterns that have been reinforced due to their adaptive value once upon a time. 

For most survivors, it’s NOT the case that we’re going to realize something— have an “ah-HA!” moment— and then suddenly our symptoms and struggles will disappear. 

Breakthroughs and other “ah-HA!” moments are cool, and they can be important— but in my experience they are rarely the key to significant changes in how we feel and function. 

For our pattens of trauma-influenced emotion and behavior to sustainably change, we have to think in terms of interrupting old patterns, again and again and again— and replacing them with new patterns that acknowledge or meet the needs our old patterns did. 

This distinction can make the difference between recovery being realistic and sustainable— or not. 

 Asking about the “why” behind our patterns of feeling and functioning can be important— but at least as important is the question of “how.” 

How do we feel what we feel? What actually happens in our head, in our body? What is the sequence? What is the syntax? 

When we do what we habitually do, what is the pattern of thinking, feeling, and behaving that typically occurs? If we had to make an accurate flowchart of how that all worked, could we? 

We may know “why” we feel and do what we do, at least broadly (the broad answer is almost always some version of, “because trauma”)— but changing those patterns requires we get hands on and specific about the sequence of internal events that produce those feelings and behaviors. 

We can’t interrupt a pattern we haven’t thoroughly observed and analyzed. 

Changing how we feel and function requires us to develop understanding and respect for how our patterns of feeling and functioning worked to keep us sane (relatively speaking, anyway) and safe (relatively speaking, anyway) in chronically stressful circumstances over time. 

Those patterns served a purpose, and they had structure. We need to realistically understand both if we want to change them. 

We shouldn’t have HAD to adapt to traumatic stress. 

We should have had the safety and support to develop more positive, less harmful coping tools. 

The fact that we didn’t have that safety and support is not our fault. 

But we no longer have to be at the mercy of support and safety we didn’t have back then. 

drglenndoyle

The how-to’s of self-love and self-acceptance in trauma recovery.

In working our trauma recovery, we have to make the deal with ourselves that ALL of our thoughts and feelings are acceptable. 

We have to commit to not attacking, shaming, punishing or abandoning ourselves over ANYTHING we think or feel. 

Our commitment to self-protection and self-love love has to be radical. Absolute. 

Mind you: we are not always going to FEEL loving toward ourselves. 

We are not always going to FEEL acceptable to ourselves. 

I’m not saying we always need to FEEL accepting or loving toward ourselves. We won’t. We can’t force feelings. 

But acceptance and love aren’t just feelings. They are behaviors— behaviors that comprise the backbone of sustainable trauma recovery. 

What do we DO when we accept someone, wholly? 

We create space for them in our life that is safe— and to which they have access without strings. 

This is what we need to do for ourselves— no questions asked. No exceptions made. 

What we DO when we love someone? 

We nurture them. We are kind to them. We protect them. We give them the benefit of the doubt .

We have their back. 

This is what we need to do for ourselves— no questions asked. No exceptions made.

The biggest threats to our self-love and self-acceptance tend to be things we think or feel. 

Every single day we are going to think and feel things that we judge to be unacceptable, and which we believe make us unlovable. 

If we only feel acceptable or lovable to ourselves when our thoughts and feelings are acceptable and lovable, we are going to develop deep anxiety— and deep shame. 

It’s real hard to work a sustainable trauma recovery when we’re wrestling with deep anxiety and deep shame. 

Why do we get so hard on ourselves about things we think and things we feel? There are many reasons, most of which have to do with our trauma conditioning. We’ve been programmed to echo and deepen our bullies’ and abusers’ attitudes and behaviors toward us. 

We don’t choose our thoughts and feelings— we experience them. And the fact that we don’t choose them often triggers shame for trauma survivors, because we believe we “should” have complete “control” over what we think and feel. 

The fact that we DON’T have complete “control”— or even all that much control, some days— over what we think and feel very often activates old, shame-bound conditioning. 

We don’t have “control” over our thoughts and feelings. We can, over time, develop INFLUENCE over what we think and feel— but that starts with a recognition that we don’t “choose” our thoughts and feelings. 

Our “choices” become relevant in our RESPONSES to what we think and feel— what we do next, AFTER we become aware of a thought or feeling. 

So what does this mean for our daily Recovery Supporting Rituals (RSR’s)?

Make a ritual out of asking the Recovery Supporting Question (RSQ): what would self-acceptance look like, right here, right now? If I radically accepted myself, my thoughts, and my feelings, what would I DO about it? How would I talk to myself? What would would I mentally focus on right here, right now? 

Likewise, an RSQ that can become a useful RSR is: if I loved myself, really loved myself, what would that look like, right here, right now? How would I talk to myself? What would would I do? What would I NOT do? 

Recovery Supporting Questions and Rituals are how we operationalize otherwise abstract concepts like “self acceptance” and “self love.” 

I’m all for feeling acceptance, love, and other warm and fuzzy feelings about ourselves. 

But I’m more interested in how we create and support those experiences through our consistent behavior. 

Easy does it. Breathe; blink; focus. 

drglenndoyle

Trauma recovery your way.

Sometimes survivors struggle with working our recovery because we think it means becoming a certain kind of person— a certain kind of person we can’t stand. 

We have these preconceptions about what a person “working their recovery” looks like. 

We might think the kind of person who “works their recovery” is kind of preachy. (Sometimes we have this stereotype because, well, we’ve met people who were, in fact, preachy about working their recovery.) 

We might think the kind of person who “works their recovery” is kind of boring. I did, for a long time, anyway. 

We might think the kind of person who “works their recovery” is a lot of things— but one thing they emphatically are not is someone like us. 

Here’s the thing: “working our recovery” does not “have” to look any one particular way. 

I’ve met literally hundreds of survivors who are working their trauma recovery— and I can tell you they are incredibly diverse as people. 

You cannot tell, from appearances, who is or isn’t a survivor working their trauma recovery. 

There IS a way for you to work your trauma recovery that is totally consistent with your personalty, your aesthetic, your temperament. 

Put another way: you do not need to become a different person, let a lone a person you don’t like, to successfully work your trauma recovery. 

On the contrary, if we’re doing trauma recovery right, we actually start to feel MORE like ourselves— not less. 

The thing many people don’t understand about trauma s how profoundly it distracts us from who we really are. 

Trauma responses consume so much of our bandwidth and require so much energy to manage, that it often leaves us exhausted and dazed. 

There’s an old joke among trauma survivors that we frequently feel like we’re not even people anymore— we’re just a pile of trauma responses in a trench coat. 

When we are struggling to keep our head above water every day, we’re not left with much time, energy, or focus to simply be ourselves. 

All of which is to say: it is trauma, not recovery, that turns us into someone we are not. 

Authentically working our recovery brings us back home to who we are and what we’re all about. 

Why does any of this matter, on a practical level? 

Because it’s real important that we design and work a recovery that works with our personalty, not against it. 

If we have BS (Belief Systems) that insist we’re “not the kind of person” who is “cut out” to work a trauma recovery, we’re going to struggle with it— needlessly. 

There is a way to be authentically you, and work a trauma recovery. 

There is a way to fit your trauma recovery into your personal aesthetic. 

There s a way to use trauma recovery tools that is consistent with who you are. You don’t need to adopt language or metaphors that do not resonate with you. 

One of the main reasons I resist giving super specific “advice” about trauma recovery on the internet is because everybody’s trauma recovery is intensely personal to them. 

I don’t know what works for you tonally, or thematically, or aesthetically. 

I know general principles that make trauma recovery work— but the way you apply those principles to your specific vibe, only you can determine. 

You get to design your trauma recovery. Not me. Not anyone else, even if they are supposedly an “expert” in the field. 

You don’t need to become someone you’re not to recover from trauma. 

Design a recovery that looks, sounds, smells, and vibes like YOU. 

drglenndoyle

Just noticing is a recovery skill.

Trauma recovery begins with just noticing. 

Just noticing how we feel. 

Just noticing what we need. 

Just noticing whose voice it is echoing in our head. 

Just noticing what emotions and memories are scraped up by certain people or situations. 

It may feel to us that we are noticing all the f*cking time— that our problem, in point of fact, is that we notice way too much, actually. 

Here’s the thing, though: when we’ve been coping with trauma symptoms for years, we’re very often not all that great at JUST noticing. 

We’re really good at judging. 

We’re really good at compartmentalizing. 

But just noticing, without judgement, without feeling the urge to “stuff” our emotions or memories somewhere? We don’t have a lot of practice with that. 

It’s not our fault. We haven’t been taught much about just noticing. 

When we were noticed by the people around us growing up, it very often led to judgment, scorn, or even punishment. 

Many of us developed the BS (Belief System) that just noticing or being noticed was dangerous. 

We couldn’t just notice what we were thinking or feeling, because to do so would make us feel shame or panic. 

Over time, trauma tends to mangle our ability to just notice. 

Many trauma survivors know very well the paradoxical feeling of being hyperaware of every goddamn physical or emotional sensation happening in or around our body— and yet, somehow, being completely unaware or completely numb to all of it. 

Healing that starts with just noticing. 

Make no mistake: just noticing is a skill. We’re not going to be great at it at first. We’re not used to it. 

Many of us have even invested lots of time and effort into explicitly NOT noticing what’s happen to or in or around us. In our experience, it’s safer and less scary to NOT notice. 

How do we begin just noticing? 

We start out by making the agreement with ourselves that whatever we do or don’t just notice in our head, heart, or body, we will not attack or abandon ourselves. 

If we really want to develop the skill of just noticing, we have to clear and firm with ourselves: we will not us the skill of just noticing against our “parts” or our inner child. 

If we really want to change how we feel and function— if we really intend to work our trauma recovery with honesty and humility— we need to start out by just noticing. 

Not judging. Not overcompensating. Not hiding. Not cringing. 

Just noticing— with curiosity, with compassion, with patience, and with a willingness to radically accept whatever we just notice. 

We don’t have to always LIKE what we just notice. 

But we do have to accept it as exactly where we are. Exactly what we’re up against. 

As long as our ability and willingness to just notice is compromised or overwhelmed by trauma symptoms, we’re going to stay in neutral in our recovery. 

Leaning into the recovery skill of just noticing is never the wrong choice. 

And it’s a recovery skill we can begin cultivating today. This moment. 

What are you just noticing right now? 

See? You’re on your way.