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

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? 

drglenndoyle

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. 

drglenndoyle

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. 

drglenndoyle

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. 

drglenndoyle

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. 

drglenndoyle

Gratitude.

You’re going to meet people in this trauma recovery process who will try to convince you that “gratitude” is kind of a “cheat code” to recovery. 

I’ve never believed that. 

Especially on days like today, you’re going to hear a lot about gratitude. 

On days like today, the culture is not particularly sensitive to people whose life experiences, especially their family experiences, have been painful or complicated. 

You may or may not feel like you have a lot to be “thankful” for today— and that’s okay. 

Acknowledging how painful or complicated your life has been does not make you “ungrateful.” 

My father, a narcissistic addict, frequently weaponized the word “gratitude” against me. 

To this day my trauma conditioning comes at me, telling me that I am not sufficiently “grateful.” 

I’ll tell you right now that I am overwhelming grateful— but maybe not for the things the culture tells me I “should” be. 

I am grateful I survived— though I wasn’t always. 

Some days I was quite ambivalent about the fact that I was still alive. 

Today I am grateful for recovery— but that has nothing to do with my family of origin. 

I am overwhelmingly grateful for some of the books and music I stumbled across that saved my life. 

I am overwhelmingly grateful for the Siamese cat that overwhelmingly enhanced my life for thirteen years— and that her passing last April was as peaceful as I could have asked for. 

I am overwhelmingly grateful for a little orange kitten who has held my grieving heart as tenderly as I could ever hope for, and for the life saving songwriters who are his namesake. 

I am overwhelmingly grateful for the humans whose voices I am listening to as I am writing this. A writer and an artist and a dancer and an adventurer who allow me the privilege of being in their lives. 

I am grateful to be sober today. 

I am grateful I did not believe trauma’s lies about whether I deserve to live. 

I am grateful I can write. That I have this platform. That my words reach even one person, let alone as many as they do. 

Believe me, I’m plenty grateful. 

But I don’t tell anyone the “have” to be grateful— or anything else, for that matter. 

Gratitude might be a tool in your recovery— or it might not. You get to decide that. 

No one gets to tell you you “have’ to be grateful, or anything else, to “deserve” recovery. 

Your mileage will vary when it comes to how useful a tool gratitude is or isn’t in your recovery. 

Don’t get up in your head about it. Really. 

Today is a day in recovery. No more; no less. 

If you are reading this, I am grateful for you. 

Yes, you. Person reading this who thinks I’m not talking about you. 

I am. 

drglenndoyle

They don’t get it– and that doesn’t matter.

They’re going to tell you to “suck it up.” 

They don’t get it. 

They’re going to question whether it was actually “trauma.” 

They don’t get it. 

They’re going to roll their eyes at some things you express. 

They don’t get it. 

They’re going to be impatient with some things you need. 

They don’t get it. 

They’re going to tell you you need “tough love.” 

They don’t get it. 

They’re going to tell you “everyone has trauma.” 

They don’t get it. 

They’re going to tell you trauma is not an “excuse” for under functioning. 

They don’t get it. 

Not only do they not get it— they don’t realize that all that stupid sh*t they say to minimize or belittle, is all sh*t we’ve said to ourselves. 

If that sh*t worked, it would have worked by now. 

But it doesn’t, because it fundamentally misunderstands post traumatic and dissociative injuries. 

We who struggle with post traumatic an dissociative injuries, and who work our recovery one day at a time? We are not looking for “excuses.” 

We are seeking— creating, actually— workable ways of existing in the world, DESPITE what we’ve endured and what we are enduring. 

We don’t love our trauma any more than you love hearing about our trauma. 

And, for what it’s worth, our recovery isn’t actually about our trauma. 

Our recovery is about our values. 

Our hopes. 

Our personhood. 

Our recovery is about putting our trauma in its appropriate place in our life story— not minimized, not exaggerated. 

They don’t get it.

Why would they? 

Don’t attach your self-esteem to what they do or don’t get. 

Our recovery is not predicated on ANYONE getting it. 

Especially not anyone who leads with dumbass statements like “suck it up.”

drglenndoyle

“Functioning” does not equal “fine.”

Because you’re “functioning” at a “high” level, doesn’t mean you’e not injured. 

It doesn’t mean you’re not hurting. 

It doesn’t mean what happened “wasn’t that bad.” 

And it doesn’t mean you “don’t need” resources or support. 

Many trauma survivors “learn” how to “function”— even when we feel overwhelmingly non-functional. 

We learn this as a survival strategy. 

We learn it as a distraction strategy. 

We learn it as a way to convince other or ourselves that we are valuable or worthy, especially when we don’t feel particularly valuable or worthy. 

Sometimes we don’t even understand how we’re “functioning,” given that we feel so sh*tty— enter the magic of dissociation. 

Very often either we or someone else will hold out our level of “functioning” as “evidence” that we’re not REALLY all that injured. 

They’ll hold out our academic or professional achievements, and and of raise their eyebrows. “Are you really all that hurt? Was it really all that bad?” 

Yes, we are; and yes, it was. 

No survivor’s academic or professional resume’ tells the whole story of their past or their pain. 

And nobody looking at our story from the outside knows the true cost of those accomplishments. 

Trauma survivors are real good at learning how to “present” well. 

It’s a skillset we mastered in oder to minimize anyone’s awareness of our vulnerability— including ours. 

If you learned to “function” at a high level, and if that “functioning” has come with rewards, I’m glad for you— you deserve credit for everything you’ve achieved. 

But don’t let the fact of your success mess your head up about whether you were “really” hurt, or whether you “really” need or deserve help. 

Achievements and “functionality” don’t tell the whole story. 

Just ask the literal hundreds of PhD’s, medical doctors, scientists, executives, attorneys, and leaders who have walked through my door in the last decade. 

There are lots of reasons people overtly “succeed” in our culture. 

But “success” does not mean anything about what we did or didn’t experience growing up— or what we are or aren’t experiencing now. 

And it absolutely doesn’t mean anything about what we do or don’t need or deserve now. 

drglenndoyle

How not to get hijacked by the “fawn” reflex.

Many trauma survivors, every day, are vulnerable to interactions with people who will, purposefully or not, hijack our focus. 

We’ve all experienced this— entering into a conversation or other interaction with someone, and suddenly feeling yanked away from who we are and what we’re all about. 

This can happen when somebody’s vibe or behavior triggers us; or it can happen when the content of the conversation or interaction is distressing or distracting to us; or it can happen for reasons we may not be able to identify in the moment. 

All we know is: we don’t feel like ourselves when we’re interacting with this person— and, often, we don’t like how we feel. 

Sometimes this “hijacking” happens unpredictably— that is, we find ourselves quite unexpectedly off our game when we engage with a person. 

Other times, however, we know from past experience with a person that they’re highly likely going to trigger us, or that interacting with them is likely to evoke feelings and responses in us that we do not love (or 100% choose, for that matter). 

There’s no shame to any of this, by the way. It happens to everyone. 

I DEFINITELY have interactions with people that yank me quite away from who I am and what I’m all about. 

I DEFINITELY find myself responding in ways I don’t love to dynamics I didn’t anticipate in certain conversations or interactions. 

Very often what’s happening to us in these moments is a form of flashback and/or dissociation. Somebody’s vibe or behavior has triggered us, because it’s punched a “replay” button installed in us from the past. 

We may not fully realize that’s what’s happening, because we think of flashbacks as fully immersive sensory experiences, or dissociation as “switching” between “parts”— but the truth is, both flashbacks and dissociation occur along a spectrum, and many survivors hang out in the mild-to-moderate range of that spectrum every day without being aware of it. 

It’s real important, when we can, that we prepare ourselves for conversations or interactions that are highly likely to trigger us. 

Remember that managing trauma responses always involves a combination of three basic tools: self-talk, mental focus, and physiology. 

When we know we’re headed into a potentially triggering conversation or interaction, we can leverage all three of those tools in order to minimize the chances we’ll get “hijacked.” 

We can remind ourselves, via our self-talk, of who we are, what we’re all about, what our goal is in the interaction, and what to pay attention to. 

We can use our mental focus to reinforce our identity, our own vibe, and our interactional goal with this person, so we don’t get caught up in their personalty or their goals. 

We can utilize our breathing and physiology to stay grounded and somatically present in thee conversation, instead of letting the anxiety or other emotions of the moment jack up our sympathetic nervous system and make it harder for us to be ourselves. 

The reason I feel it’s important that you know about these kinds of vulnerabilities and these kinds of tools is, these are exactly the kinds of things I wish someone had told me as a teenager. 

I remember, vividly, feeling at the complete mercy of every situation I was in— especially social situations. 

I felt like my identity as basically malleable, depending on who I was interacting with and what they wanted from me— and it was hell on my self-esteem. 

Taking a few minutes to utilize our recovery tools to affirm our identity, our values, and our goals for the interaction can help us stay grounded in and focused on who we are and what we need. 

That is: it can help us manage our vulnerability to the “fawn” response— and give us valuable experience in wrangling flashbacks and dissociation that aren’t obvious or overwhelming. 

It’s never the wrong call to leverage self-talk, mental focus, and physiology to remind ourselves who we are and what we’re all about. 

And it’s never the wrong time to do whatever we need to do to not accidentally lose ourselves in someone else’s vibe.