Try this Recovery Supporting Question over “positive thinking.”

I do not believe in “positive thinking.” 

“Positive thinking” has never done much other than annoy and distract me on my trauma and addiction recovery journeys. 

Your milage may vary. But it’s not a tool that I find useful. 

I don’t believe in superficially “positive” thinking— but I do believe in asking intelligent, recovery supporting questions of almost everything that happens to me. 

In my experience, the most useful RSQ (Recovery Supporting Question) in any situation is almost always: “How can I use this to serve my recovery?” 

I suppose that’s catty-corner to “positive thinking” in a way, in that it assumes there IS a way to use virtually everything that happens to us to support our recovery. 

So be it. That’s one of my rock solid beliefs: that we can use literally anything that happens to level up in our recovery. 

Mind you: I’m not talking about the gaslight-y thing where we insist we’re “grateful” for everything that happens to us. 

I once knew a self help demagogue who blithely insisted that the true definition of “forgiveness” was getting to the point where you could honestly say, “thank you FOR GIVING me that experience.” 

F*ck that. 

There are absolutely experiences that are not worth being “grateful” for. That we wouldn’t ask for; that just suck. 

But that doesn’t mean we can’t use them. 

I’ll be the first to admit: sometimes I have to bend over backward to figure out a way to use the sh*tty situation that just happened to somehow support my recovery. 

Right now, as I write this, I’m dealing with a frustrating health symptom that almost surely developed out of my past addiction behavior, and my brain is, to put it mildly, struggling to find a way to use this development to support my recovery. 

But I will find it. Because I am committed to not wasting pain. 

If something is going to suck, you’d better goddamn believe I’m going to find some way to use it. 

Again: don’t confuse that commitment to some positive thinking fantasy that we can or should be “grateful” for even the painful situations we’ve endured. 

What my commitment to USING everything is about is acknowledging the reality that sh*tty situations are, in fact, going to happen— and we have at last a little wiggle room in how we process and respond to those sh*tty situations. 

“Positive thinking,” in my experience, doesn’t resonate with many trauma survivors. 

Try on the realistic RSQ “how can I USE this to support my recovery?” instead. 

Your vs. “their” mission statement.

Remember: you are on a different life path, a different mission, than “they” are. 

Of course they’re going to misunderstand you. 

Maybe mock you. 

Certainly communicate to you in dozens of implicit and explicit ways that you’re “doing it wrong.” 

You’re not, actually, doing it wrong. 

But, in working your trauma recovery, you’re definitely doing life much differently than “they” are. 

Hell, you are doing life much differently than they ever COULD. 

You and I know the kind of focus and courage working our trauma recover takes. 

Do you think “they” could actually do that? 

I don’t. 

Chances are, anyone who gives you sh*t about your recovery needs and habits is light years away from realistically being able to do what you do every day. 

They don’t even know how much effort you’ve had to expend at various points in your journey just to stay ALIVE. 

So, yes. You are on a very different path than they are. 

Your mission statement is very different from theirs— not least because people who aren’t working a recovery often don’t even bother having a mission statement for their life. 

Don’t let “them” get in your head. 

Their judgments have exactly zero to do with what you’re actually doing in your life. 

Don’t hold yourself to “their” standards. Don’t take “their” opinions any more seriously than they deserve to be taken. 

You are on a different path, a different mission— and that’s the good news. 

The path you’re on, the mission you’re on, is keeping you alive and creating a quality of life “they” could never. 

Don’t doubt it. 

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. 

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. 

“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. 

F*ck judging our thoughts and feelings.

Judging the sh*t out of ourselves is going to make every “sticky” thought or feeling we have, “stickier.” 

Trauma survivors are very often conditioned to show ourselves no mercy when it comes to what we “should” and “shouldn’t” think or feel. 

Barely a thought crosses our mind without us passing a harsh judgment on it. 

Barely a feeling touches our heart without us excoriating ourselves for feeing things, or feeling things more intensely, than we “should.” 

The truth is, there are no “shoulds” when it comes to thoughts or feelings— we think what we think and we feel what we feel. We like some thoughts and feelings more than others— but none of them are “evidence” that we’re doing this whole “being a human” thing “wrong.” 

But that’s not what Trauma Brain is going to tell us. 

Trauma Brain, what I call the internalized voices of our bullies and abusers that we play on repeat for decades, will tell us we “have” to judge and obsess over what we think and feel. 

Trauma Brain especially likes to tell us that we’re feeling “too much.” That we’re “too sensitive.” That the intensity with which we feel things is evidence we’re “weak” or “broken.” 

That is straight Trauma Brain BS (Belief Systems— but also, you know, the other kind of “BS”). 

Here’s the thing: those thoughts and feelings that we don’t love? Judging ourselves for them is going to make them hang out in our brain and body for much longer than they otherwise would. 

Judgment makes “sticky” thoughts and feelings much “stickier.” 

Nobody reading this judges their thoughts and feelings for the hell of it. We are responding to conditioning. We were programmed to relate to ourselves harshly. 

We do need to decide that we’re tong to change how we relate to ourselves— but changing that pattern requires more than a “decision.” 

It requires us to catch ourselves when we’re doing it, push pause, and choose to talk to ourselves differently. 

To scratch that old record— again, and again, and again. 

Not easy. Worth the effort— but not easy. 

Remember, when you’re tempted to beat the sh*t out of yourself for something you’re thinking or feeling, “this is only going to prolong my relationship with this thought or feeling I hate.” 

Then I recommend inserting this well-validated, very clinical turn of phrase into your self-talk: “F*ck that.” 

Because f*ck judging your thoughts and feelings, you know? 

What self-acceptance is and isn’t in trauma recovery.

Why do we emphasize self-acceptance in trauma recovery? 

It’s not because we love where we are in life. 

It’s not even because we love WHO we are at this moment. 

If we’re working a trauma recovery, we by definition want to change both where and who we are. We don’t work a trauma recovery to stay the same. 

We emphasize acceptance in trauma recovery not because we don’t want to change, but because we DO want to REALISTICALLY change— and realistic change does not start with self-rejection or self-hate. 

If self-rejection or self-hate were successful or sustainable change strategies, most trauma survivors would have zero problems changing. 

But self-rejection and self hate are not— either sustainable or successful change strategies. 

Self-acceptance is not about approving of where or who we are. It’s about acknowledging that we are starting exactly where we’re starting. 

It means being realistic about what we’re up against. 

It means being realistic about our strengths and our vulnerabilities. 

But most of all, self-acceptance means we are not going to relate to ourselves like our bullies and abusers did. 

It means we are not going to try to influence our own behavior via shame and pressure— even if that’s what we were taught or what we experienced growing up. 

Many people new to the Twelve Step recovery tradition are confused by Step One, which emphasizes not only acceptance, but powerlessness. 

How on earth are we supposed to recover, if the price of admission to recovery is “accepting” that we are “powerless” over our problem? 

That’s the thing: we are not accepting that we are “powerless” OVER our problem. 

We are accepting that we are powerless over the fact that this is exactly where we are right now. 

That things are exactly as bad as they are, right now. 

That the past happened exactly the way the past happened. We are powerless over that. 

We are NOT “powerless” over our next micro choice. 

We are not required to “accept” the lie that Trauma Brain keeps trying to tell us— that we don’t “deserve” a different life, or that it’s just “too hard” to recover from trauma. 

Self-acceptance is a starting point that, most importantly, differentiates us from our abusers and bullies. 

It’s not where we stay or where we end. 

It’s one necessary, important tool, especially in early recovery— but one tool does not a strategy make. 

The recovery STRATEGY is to accept where we are so we can maximize our chances of realistically CHANGING. 

Why are trauma survivors so hard on ourselves?

Why is it so hard for trauma survivors to give ourselves a break? 

Why is our first instinct always, always, always to beat the sh*t out of ourselves? 

It’s not because we love it. 

It’s usually because we’ve been CONDITIONED to do it— and to be afraid of what would happen if we didn’t do it. 

Our self-aggression very often happens so instinctively, so reflexively, that we don’t even know we’re doing it much of the time. 

Many of my patients tell me they don’t even realize how hard they’re being on themselves until I have them track their self talk for a day, or even a couple hours. 

But even after we realize how hard we’re being on ourselves, we get anxious when we think of NOT being so mean to ourselves. 

We get to thinking that we “need” to be hard on ourselves— or else we won’t be “motivated.” 

We get to thinking not being so hard on ourselves will result in us getting “soft.” 

We get to thinking we “have” to be so hard on ourselves, because “self-compassion” is this touchy feely concept that isn’t REALLY important— that “real” adults talk to themselves harshly. 

“That’s just the way it is,” we tell ourselves. 

We might even tell ourselves that OTHER people might “deserve” more compassionate treatment— but not us. 

We deserve the “tough love,” maybe minus the love. 

That’s what our conditioning tells us. And most CPTSD survivors have been conditioned, over and over, year after year, to talk to ourselves in very specific, very harsh ways. 

If we stay on autopilot, we don’t stand a chance against that conditioning. That programming. 

The good news is, we don’t have to stay on autopilot. 

The bad news, or mixed news, anyway, is that going off autopilot is a b*tch. 

It’s tiring. It’s annoying. It’s a distraction from the other sh*t we have to do in our life, like work, raising kids, and caring for pets. 

Our brain will keep trying to drag us back to our old conditioning, our old programming, because that’s the pattern it knows. That’s the pattern that is etched into our nervous system. That’s the path of least resistance. 

Working our recovery means turning away from that familiar path of least resistance. 

That’s why I say trauma recovery requires courage and determination and focus that most non-survivors can’t even fathom. 

We can change our habitual self talk, as surely as we can unlearn any old way of being and learn any new way of being. Humans unlearn and learn new patterns every day, every year. 

Once upon a time it was the most natural, normal pattern to go to the bathroom in our diapers. In order to learn to use the actual toilet, we had to change everything that was “natural” to us once upon a time through repeated practice. 

Changing our brain in trauma recovery is no different. 

We’re just a little older now, and saddled with more BS— Belief Systems— than we were then. 

Does recovery “have” to be the most important thing ?

Something that was, and is, hard for me to wrap my head around in my own trauma and addiction recovery is, recovery simultaneously does and does not have to be the most important thing in my life at any given time. 

Many survivors struggle with recovery because it feels like this overwhelming, all consuming project— and it surely is. 

Done right, trauma and/or addiction recovery will absolutely touch and inform everything and anything we do. 

We do not get days— or even hours— “off” from being survivors and/or addicts in recovery. 

If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it hundreds of times: trauma and addiction recovery aren’t just about trauma and/or addiction: recovery is actually about succeeding in life. 

It’s about self awareness. And time management. And goal setting. And self-care. You know, those things that every truly successful human being in the history of the species has more or less figured out. 

So, yes— the tools we develop to recover from trauma and/or addiction will and do absolutely serve us in everything we do, whether or not it’s directly related to our recovery proper. 

That said: I, and probably you, have things we want to do in our lives that have nothing to do with recovery. 

We have goals that go beyond safety and stability and sobriety. 

We have, or want, relationships that do not always revolve around recovery. 

We want to create times and spaces in which we can functionally forget that this big project called “recovery” is even a thing. 

And all that is legit. 

Make no mistake: I do not recommend trying to “forget” you’re a survivor or addict in recovery. That’s not going to end well. (Ask me how I know.) 

But I understand wanting and needing projects in your life that do not center recovery. 

Here’s the thing: I believe we do recovery specifically so that we DON’T have to focus on trauma or addiction 24/7. 

We’re not doing recovery just to do recovery. 

We’re doing recovery because we want to live. 

And the irony about that is, the more we prioritize recovery, the greater our opportunities to live actually are. 

Here’s the way I’ve come to think of it: recovery does not have to be the subject of your every waking thought. 

Recovery does, however, need to become the lens through which we see the world. 

All the other stuff in our life, all our other goals, all our decisions about time and energy management— we have to see them all in the context of recovery. 

Think of recovery as a project, yes— but maybe more importantly, as a tool. 

A master key. 

A key that will allow doors to open to us that do not have to do with the key, per se— but which, without the key, would remain closed to us. 

So— do we have to think about recovery every day? Yes— but only in the way that we “have” to think about any philosophical lens through which we see the world every day.

Recovery does have to be a non-negotiable in our life. We will surely die if we kid ourselves about that. 

And also: our trauma and addiction recovery does not have to become our identity. 

It becomes the TOOL through which we can safely and authentically express and explore our identity. 

Breathe; blink; focus. 

Love was never something you should have had to “earn.”

It’s not our fault that we came to believe we had to “earn” love. 

We should have been loved in such a way that we truly believe we deserve it. 

But— what happened, happened. 

Our brain loves to make what happened about us— but the truth is, we couldn’t have done our parents’ jobs for them if we’d wanted to. 

It wasn’t our job to teach ourselves about love. 

It wasn’t our job to teach ourselves we are worthy. 

We don’t know what any of that is or means when we’re kids. 

All we know is what we feel— and we believe what we feel. 

Neither you nor I were abused or neglected because we were “unworthy” or “unlovable.” 

There was nothing we did, or could have done, to “deserve” what happened to us. 

It’s pretty f*cked up, how many people com through childhood believing we have to “earn” love— but believing that we somehow effortlessly “caused” our abuse or neglect. 

Nether you nor I “caused” or “allowed” our pain. 

Recovery means accepting that— which is harder than it sounds. 

Accepting that we got enormously unlucky is very, very unsatisfying. 

But— that’s what happened. 

We didn’t choose our parents, and we didn’t choose the environment we grew up in. 

And because of our conditioning, many of our choices since them weren’t exactly “free,” either. 

None of this is easy to wrap our head around. 

But that’s okay. It doesn’t all need to happen today. Acceptance is a process, more than a “choice.” 

Today just start with: it was not on you to “earn” love. 

It’s not your fault that you still feel you have to “earn” love. 

Tell your “parts” and your inner child that they are lovable and loved (even if you don’t quite feel that self-love yet). 

We can’t change the past, or how the past shaped our nervous system up to this point. 

We can change our nervous system going forward— with what we say to ourselves, how we direct our mental focus, and how we leverage our breathing and physiology, today. 

So: breathe; blink; and focus. 

Repeat as needed.