drglenndoyle

Keep it in the day.

One of my own challenges in trauma and addiction recovery has been what they call “keeping it in the day” in the Twelve Step tradition. 

What that means is, manage today. 

We can get freaked out by thinking of trauma or addiction recovery as a lifelong process. 

Trauma survivors in particular are sensitive to feeling overwhelmed and inadequate— and the idea that recovery is this hard, complicated thing we have to “do” every day for the rest of our lives can really mess with us. 

“One day at a time” isn’t just a catchy recovery slogan. It’s a very practical mindset tool. 

It may seem obvious that all we can manage today IS today, but that can be easy to forget. 

We trauma survivors in particular tend to think in big, dramatic, overachieving chunks. 

We tend to go big or go home. 

So it can be hard for us to “keep it in the day”— to focus on this twenty four hours. 

A recovery tool that changed things for me was the morning exercise I learned while listening to a Nathaniel Branden audio program about self esteem: starting each day writing down not only what I wanted out of life, but identifying things I could do that day to nudge toward those goals. 

The rule with that exercise is, ONLY things we KNOW we can realistically do within these twenty four hours can go on that list. 

So, for example: while my “what do I want” goal may have been to “become a psychologist,” “earn a doctorate” couldn’t go on the “things I can do today” list, because that’s a multi-year project.

What COULD go on the “things I can do today” list? Maybe identifying a doctoral program; maybe starting an application; or, later, doing my daily studying or paper writing.

I didn’t actually make progress toward becoming a psychologist until I learned to “keep it in the day.” 

Every recovery goal or task is like this. 

We can look at the larger arc— in fact, it’s important to regularly check in with where we are with our big, little, and medium scale goals— but we have to, have to, have to keep returning to what we can do today. 

We also have to be realistic about what our specific trauma recovery challenges are, today. 

Yes, we can identify larger issues and challenges in our trauma recovery— and, again, it’s important to check in with our recovery arc on the regular— but we have to keep coming back, again and again, to what’s actually on our plate today. 

If we’re not managing today’s symptoms and triggers, we’re not managing our trauma recovery.

When in doubt, keep it in the day. 

Also when not in doubt. 

An always relevant Recovery Supporting Question (RSQ) is, “what are my strengths, weaknesses, opportunities, and threats today?”

(This is known as a “SWOT analysis, and it’s another powerful, practical recovery mindset tool.) 

“Keeping it in the day” doesn’t mean we lose sight of the overall arc. 

It means that our top priority is always our safety and stability today. 

Another recovery mindset tool I value is a perspective from the Rational Recovery tradition that is related to Addiction Voice Recognition Technique (AVRT), which reminds us that the rest of our life is always going to be a series of present moments. 

That is to say, if you can effectively manage the present moment, you can manage your recovery— indeed the ONLY way to manage your recovery IS to manage the present moment. 

All that said: I’m not, actually, one of those therapists who believes survivors should NEVER think about the past or the future. 

I think visualizing the past and the future can be incredibly useful mindset tools, especially when the present moment sucks. 

I think the key to utilizing memories of the past and fantasies of the future effectively is to be really conscious about how and why we’re doing it— rather than letting those memories and fantasies “hijack” our focus against our will. 

But even when we’re leveraging memories of the past or fantasies of the future to influence how we feel and function, we’re STILL managing the present moment and “keeping it in the day.” 

Using those mindset tools produces a result here and now— i.e., it’s part of our toolbox for managing these twenty four hours (specifically, this sixty seconds). 

Whatever recovery tools work for you, leverage them in the context of managing today. 

Don’t freak yourself out about the rest of your life. 

Focus and refocus on the day in front of you, the hour in front of you, the minute in front of you. 

Manage the present moment, and the rest of your life will take care of itself. 

Breathe, blink, focus. 

drglenndoyle

People will disappoint us. And we have to recover anyway.

People are going to disappoint us on this trauma recovery journey. 

I wish that wasn’t the case, but it most definitely is. 

People who should know better and be better, will be cruel and closed-minded. 

People who themselves have been victims of abuse or neglect, will be mean to others who have survived abuse and neglect. 

People who say they prioritize healing, will follow that up with variants of “…but only for people who I happen to like/agree with/find sympathetic.” 

I wish everyone would be kind. I wish everyone would be realistic. 

I wish you and I would only ever counter people on this journey who were secure and compassionate enough to not let their fears or other painful emotions get in the way of their empathy. 

But that’s not the world we live in, is it? 

We live in a world that tries, at every turn, to control us through shame and anxiety. 

We live in a world that very much wants people repeating and preaching the viewpoints of its political and ideological leaders. 

We live in a world where others trying to control and manipulate us is so commonplace, we barely register it— and we certainly don’t register it as anything especially unusual. 

All of this can be enormously triggering to CPTSD survivors. 

It can remind us that we are often not safe, even in spaces we “should” be, by rights. 

Other peoples’ passions and prejudices should have nothing to do with our recovery, but it’s hard to stay focused on the life we’re trying to create when we have people being expressive, intrusive, and judgmental about so many things. 

We can forget that not everybody is like that. 

We can lose sight of the fact this project is about our safety with ourselves, the safety we create on the inside of our head and heart— not anybody else’s opinions. 

I hate that there’s so much misunderstanding and hate out there. 

I don’t know that there’s more out there than there used to be, but I do think the internet gives many people the opportunity to express their aggressive thoughts in far reaching ways that were not available in years past. 

It’s not easy to stay focused on our own trauma recovery in this world. 

But that’s what I’m going to ask you to do. 

I’m going to ask you to do everything you can to keep coming back to your recovery needs and tools— your self talk, your mental focus, your physiology. 

I know: focusing on ourselves won’t “fix” the culture or the world. 

But it will empower you to have your best shot at doing things that can change the culture and the world. 

It will support your safety and stability in a world that is desperate to upend both. 

Focusing on your trauma recovery, every day, every hour, every minute, with compassion and realism, may not be sufficient to change the world— but it is very necessary. 

Bring it back to center. 

Breathe in to it. Toggle that vagus nerve. 

Blink, blink, blink. 

And focus— on who you are, who you want to be, and what you need today. 

Just keep coming back to your recovery needs and goals. 

Easy, easy does it. 

drglenndoyle

Trauma recovery and performative bullsh*t.

A vital part of realistic trauma recovery is avoiding performative bullsh*t. 

Because you’re going to run into a LOT of performative bullsh*t out there. 

Much of that performative bullsh*t is being performed by people who say they’re working a trauma recovery or an addiction recovery— but you wouldn’t know that by their “performance.” 

Recovery really is not about performing. It’s not about looking good. 

Because if we’re honest, there are going to be many points in this recovery journey where we don’t look all that good. 

There are going to be MANY points in our trauma recovery journey where we don’t look like we know what we’re doing. 

There are going to be many points in our trauma recovery where we look kind of lost. 

MANY points in our recovery where we’re going to look cringey. Awkward as hell. 

Not every moment in this journey is going to be picture perfect or Instagram worthy— and you know what? That’s okay. 

In fact, that’s more than okay— that’s kind of important. 

Guess how much actual progress we’d make in trauma recovery if only the picturesque moments “counted?” 

“Not much,” is the answer. 

I’ve made the most progress in my own recovery when I’ve been trying new sh*t (or, at least, new-to-me sh*t)…and I’ll spoil the suspense, I, like everybody else, do not look cool when I’m trying out new sh*t. 

I look like I don’t know what I’m doing and I’m not good at it yet— because guess what, that’s exactly what’s going on. 

Trauma recovery asks us to experiment with some radically new-to-us sh*t. 

It asks us to talk to ourselves in ways we are just not used to. 

It asks us to take control of our mental focus, our internal “spotlight,” in ways we were never taught how. 

It asks us to be aware of and leverage our breathing and physiology in ways that, I promise you, will feel awkward and weird and unsustainable at first. 

All of that feels and looks awkward until we get some serious practice at it— and even then, it’s going to look awkward for awhile. 

But that’s kind of the point: we are not doing this to create Instagram-worthy moments of triumph and grace. 

We are doing this “trauma recovery” thing to save and enhance our life. 

We aren’t doing this to impress anyone. 

We MIGHT be doing this “trauma recovery” thing to spite someone, at least a little— but that’s not quite the same thing. 

Performative bullsh*t will kneecap our recovery. 

It’ll distract us. It’ll have us trying to look cool on the outside, rather than focusing on the changes we’re trying to make on the inside. 

That’s not to say we shouldn’t be proud of our observable progress. We should. I like it when I make progress that other people can see, and it’s okay if you like it too. 

But remember that looking cool, when it happens, is kind of a bonus. 

Also remember that the first realistic step toward being good at something is sucking at something. You gotta start somewhere to get somewhere. 

When in doubt, skip the performative bullsh*t, either on the internet or in real life. 

And always prioritize advice from people who have made significant, sustainable changes in their life over time— whether or not their recovery is aesthetically pleasing for inspo-posting. 

Breathe; blink; focus. 

drglenndoyle

Come for it all.

Come for everything they said you couldn’t have. 

You’ve hard that motivational phrase, right? I didn’t originate it, I’ve seen it quite a few places. 

But it has particular resonance for CPTSD survivors. 

We have very often been told we “can’t” have things. 

That we don’t “deserve” things. 

That we’ll have to give up our “victim mindset” and make better “choices” before we’ll even be supposedly eligible for those things. 

Now, don’t get me wrong: mindset certainly matters in trauma recovery, and I’m all for making better choices, always. 

But I’ve worked with hundreds of trauma survivors in recovery, and I can assure you: “mindset” and “choices” are not their— our— biggest problems in recovery. 

Some CPTSD survivors were told, when they leave painful relationships or situations, that we’ll “never make it” without our abusers and bullies. 

(No, really: some of us were literally told just that, in those words.) 

So, my advice is: come for it. 

Come for it all. 

Come for everything they said was out of your reach. 

Come for everything that you ever imagined was off the table for you. 

Don’t let shame stop you, don’t let fear top you, and abso-f*cking-lutely do not let the internalized voices of abusers and bullies from the past stop you. 

You are absolutely “eligible” for a better life. 

You’re honestly “eligible” for a much better life than you would probably have ever imagined, had you not been introduced to the trauma recovery paradigm. 

I would never, ever wish trauma on anyone, and I am emphatically not “grateful” for what you or I have endured. 

But truthfully, if I hadn’t had to save my own life by getting serious about trauma and addiction recovery, I probably would have slept on such basic tools as self talk, mental focus, and physiology for the rest of my life. 

I probably would have remained a random white dude with middling aspirations and moods I could not predict or influence, like most random white dudes. 

However: things unfolded as they did. 

And here I am. 

Coming for everything they said I couldn’t have. 

And here I am, recommending you aspire to do the same. 

They don’t get to choose or limit what we “get” to achieve. Or feel. Or become. 

Working our trauma recovery and building a life can be hard, and is often not straightforward. And we’re very often doing this functionally alone. 

There are no guarantees in recovery, or in life. 

But I can tell you this: if you’re reading this, you’ve very likely been sold a bill of goods about what you do and don’t “deserve.” 

And it’s most likely BS (Belief Systems—but also, you know, bullsh*t) 

Come for it. 

Come for everything they said you couldn’t have. 

We are not who they they think we are— we are golden. 

Breathe. Blink. Focus. 

drglenndoyle

Consistency and recovery.

There is zero shame in struggling with consistency in our trauma recovery. 

Everybody struggles with consistency. I struggle with it. 

It doesn’t mean we’re not committed. It doesn’t even mean we’re not focused. 

What it means is that CPTSD tends to jerk us around a lot. Hijack us. 

If you’re reading this, you likely know exactly what I’m talking about— what it feels like to be a puppet on a string. 

One minute we can be more or less okay— then we get yanked in the direction of anxiety. Or depression. Or self-harm urges. 

There might not even seem to be any rhyme or reason to it. No particular trigger. 

Realistic, sustainable trauma recovery requires a lot of attention to our self-talk, our mental focus, and our physiology— and it’s real hard to consistently pay attention to what we’re saying to ourselves, what we’re focusing on, and what our body is doing, when we’re getting jerked around by triggers and memories. 

That’s not our fault. Nobody reading this “chooses” to get hijacked by trauma memories and trauma responses. 

Our job is to not overreact to our difficulties being consistent. 

To not overinterpret it. 

To not tell ourselves a story about how it means we “can’t do this.” 

Our job, when we struggle with consistency in our trauma recovery, is to be compassionate and realistic with ourselves. 

Maybe even gentle with ourselves. 

Maybe even (GASP) FORGIVING of ourselves, for struggling with consistency. 

What a concept, right? 

Don’t get up in your head about it. Consistency is hard. And it’s especially hard when we have CPTSD f*cking with us. 

When you get off track, push pause, breathe, blink, focus…and just do the next right thing for your recovery. Just get back on track when you can. 

Consistency is a long game. 

Keep coming back to center. To your recovery goals and your recovery values. To your recovery self. 

Easy does it. Breathe; blink; focus. 

drglenndoyle

Mile One is not Mile 26– but it counts.

The fact that we’re not where we want to be, in trauma recovery or in life, does not negate how far we’ve come. 

And by the way, even if “how far you’ve come” is having gone one day without harming yourself or otherwise relapsing, you have the right to be proud. 

Every long term recovery starts with twenty four hours— and every twenty four hours starts with one hour. 

If you’re reading this, chances are you’re at least sort of, kind of, maybe, considering trauma or addiction recovery, or you’re looking for things worth thinking about when it comes to making your trauma or addiction recovery realistic. 

That’s not nothing. That’s progress. 

So— even if you’re at the very beginning of the process, you’re not at Square One. Truly. 

And but also, you’re almost assuredly not where you want to be. 

No shame. I’m not where I want to be in my own trauma and addiction recovery. 

I’m not where I was, either— and both of those things are true and meaningful. 

The fact that we still have changes to make, doesn’t mean we’ve done nothing. 

Trauma Brain, the internalized voices of our abusers and bullies, is going to try really hard to get you to think these overgeneralized, back and white terms. You know what I’m talking about. 

Trauma Brain is going to try, hard, to convince you that because you’re not where you want to be, because your life kind of (or really) sucks on multiple levels, then you’re “nowhere” in this recovery thing. 

Or that what you have done in recovery— up to and including reading these words— “doesn’t count.” 

My ass, it doesn’t count. 

Sustainable trauma recovery asks us to think not in black and white terms, but in realistic shades of grey. 

Sure, we’re not where we want to be, where we think we “should” be. 

But that doesn’t mean we’re nowhere. 

That doesn’t mean what we HAVE done in our recovery— up to and including these words— “doesn’t count.” 

I run marathons. And I can tell you that after running Mile One, every marathon runner is acutely aware that we have 25 miles left to go. 

But that doesn’t mean Mile One “didn’t count.” 

If I have to run 26.2 miles, I’d rather have run one mile than not. 

The fact that we’re not at the finish line, not where we want to be, not where we think we “should” be, means that we still have work to do, still have goals to focus on. 

But it does not mean we’re still at the start line. 

Radically accept where you are in this “trauma recovery” marathon— not because you want to stay where you are, but explicitly because you DON’T want to stay there. 


Breathe; blink; focus. 

drglenndoyle

Go ahead. Hear some voices.

On today’s edition of Realistic Sustainable Trauma Recovery, I’m going to ask you to hear voices. 

But not just any voices. 

Certainly not the voices you’re used to hearing in your head— the voices of your abuses and bullies, which I call Trauma Brain. 

No, you’ve head those voices enough. On repeat, for years. So much so that you might not even realize those voices are still coming at you, every day, every hour. 

Instead, I want you to install some voices to listen to. 

I want you to hear the voices of mentors. 

I want you to hear the voices of guides. 

I want you to hear the voices of therapists who have had helpful things to say. 

(Maybe not the voices of therapists who let you down or made you feel worse.)

The voices you hear don’t have to be “real” people or entities. They can be fictional characters, figures from mythology, or other people or entities that don’t have “real” voices in the “real” world. 

Maybe the voices you need are voices from historical figures. Once upon a time I was way, way into presidential history, and I got a lot of mileage out of communing with presidents from decades ago. 

Maybe the voices you need are figures from your spiritual tradition that are no longer physically here. Many people describe “hearing” the voices of saints or evangelists that offer them hope and guidance. 

Maybe I’m even one of your voices. Chances are, if you’re reading this, you probably know my toolbox and worldview well enough to guess at what I might tell you in a given situation.

Whoever your “voices” are, I want you to feel safe with them. 

Whoever they are, I want them to evoke in you feelings of realistic hope and measurable calm. 

You remember a few years ago when “What Would Jesus Do” bracelets were all the rage? I’m asking you to think similarly— only your mantra is going to be, “What Would (Insert Your Inspiring or Comforting Mentor Here) Say?” 

Have them mentally on your shoulder. 

Have them mentally in your ear. 

Have them handy, to turn to when Trauma Brain wants to steamroll you with old voices saying old sh*t that only results in you feeling like garbage. 

Think of your “voices” as your cheering section, your support crew, your advisory committee. 

We are talking to ourselves all day, every day, in our heads— and we’re often doing so in “voices” that aren’t quite ours. 

There’s no reason those voices should be voices we find painful. 

Choose who you want in your cheering section. Choose who you want having your back. 

Then, practice “hearing” them in daily situations. Get good at listening for them on purpose. 

This is how we reprogram trauma conditioning. 

This is how we choose something other than our old, default tapes. 

drglenndoyle

You don’t have to love this trauma recovery sh*t. Really.

Whoever told you you always have to have a “good attitude” about this trauma recovery sh*t, was lying. You don’t. 

I don’t always have a “good attitude” about this trauma recovery sh*t, and it’s my job. 

Nobody says you have to love it. Nobody says you always have to be motivated, or sanguine, or zen about it. 

I’ll spoil the suspense, your attitude, like mine, will often suck. 

And, that’s not a deal breaker when it comes to trauma recovery. 

Realistic recovery asks us to work it right on through The Suck. 

It asks us to refrain from hurting or killing ourselves, even when we want to. Even when we think that’s what we “deserve.” Even when we think we can’t go on one more minute. 

Not doing something you really want to do— or you really think you “have” to do— sucks. 

And, you can do it. 

Interrupting yourself when you’re beating the sh*t out of yourself is hard. 

And, you can do it. 

Paying attention to your physiology, especially your breathing, is a hassle. 

And, you can do it. 

Working our trauma recovery requires us to be different from all those people who will read this post and comment with 2,477,270 reasons why they “can’t” or “shouldn’t have to.” 

Working our trauma recovery asks us to stand up for ourselves against our bullies and abusers— specifically, the ones in our head, the ones who are still giving us sh*t, even though they may not even be in our life (or even alive) anymore. 

Working our trauma recovery asks us to be realistic about what progress looks like. Because it doesn’t look like feeling 100% better overnight. 

Woking our trauma recovery asks us to be kind to and patient with “parts” of ourselves that may frustrate or confuse or infuriate us. 

None of that is easy. And yes, all of it is “easier said than done” (like literally everything). 

You don’t have to love it. 

You just have to get yourself to identify and make the next recovery supporting micro choice in how you talk to yourself, how you direct your mental focus, and how you use your breathing and body. 

The person reading this with the worst attitude, can still do that. 

Breathe; blink; focus. 

drglenndoyle

Freedom’s just another word for nothin’ left to lose.

A surefire way to sabotage our trauma recovery is to tell ourselves we “have” to do it. 

Or to think of it as something our therapist or anyone else is “making” us do. 

Believe me when I tell you, neither you nor I “have” to do anything. 

Once upon a time, we did “have” to do things, or else be punished or worse. 

If you’re reading this, you likely know a lot more about coercive control than anybody should have to. 

Fast forward to now, and of course you’re touchy about feeling controlled. 

So it’s real important to remind yourself: trauma recovery is not a “have to” thing. 

You can opt out. 

Of course, by opting out of trauma recovery, you’re necessarily accepting that trauma is going to control certain aspects of your life experience. 

We are free to make decisions— but we are not free to avoid the consequences of our decisions. 

I choose recovery because it actually makes me more realistically free. 

Yes, trauma recovery means I use skills, tools, and philosophies every day that don’t necessarily come easily or naturally to me. 

Yes, it means I cannot just let my mind go where it’s going to go on autopilot— because I’m quite aware that my “autopilot” was programmed by my bullies and abusers. I know where leaving my brain and body on autopilot leaves me, every time. 

That is to say: I know that working my trauma recovery makes me a little less “free” in the moment. 

But the freedom recovery offers me in the bigger picture— the freedom to NOT let my bullies and abusers control my life choices, how I feel and function— is so much more important to me than that day to day, minute to minute sh*t, it’s not even a question. 

Your milage may vary. As I say, no one “has” to do any of this sh*t. No one even “has” to read this page. There are literally thousands of other internet pages. Some of them even have cats, or so I’m told. 

I choose recovery. 

And I recommend recovery. 

“Freedom’s just another word for nothing left to lose; and nothin’ don’t mean nothin’ if it ain’t free.”

drglenndoyle

Over it.

A very common experience of people reading these words is, we’re f*cking over it. 

I mean, really, really over it. 

Over trauma. 

Over therapy. 

Over recovery. 

Over…all of it. 

Almost everybody reading this is tired. 

Many survivors reading this are pissed off. 

More than a few survivors reading this are numb. 

We are sick and tired of being sick and tired. 

We’re just…over it. 

Then, of course, along with feeling over it, we might also be feeling shame. Because we’re not “supposed” to feel this way. 


Trauma Brain, the internalized voices of our bullies and abusers, is real good at telling us we’re not “supposed” to be feeling WHATEVER we happen to be feeling— including over it. 

We’re “supposed” to have a “good attitude.” Because “attitude is everything,” didn’t you know? 

Or something. 

We’re “supposed” to be “nice” to people who helpfully offer their (often unsolicited) advice— because, don’t you know, they’re “just trying to help!” 

Or something. 

On, and on, and on. “Supposed” to this, “supposed” to that. 

Who reading this is f*ckng over what we’re “supposed” to feel or do? 

That’s what I thought. 

Let me tell you the reality of trauma recovery: you can be quite over it, exquisitely over it, but still work your recovery. 

Ask me how I know. 

(It’s because I’ve often had to do just that myself.)

You do NOT have to have a “good attitude”— and attitude is not, actually, “everything.” 

The rock bottom reality is, you and I are going to have good days and mid days and “meh” days in our CPTSD recovery. Some days are diamonds, some days are rocks. 

We are going to have days when we would rather walk into the f*cking ocean than haul out one more coping skill to deal with one more f*cking trauma response. 

And: the fact that we are fed up, exhausted, over it, doesn’t mean that we have to yeet our recovery progress into the sun. 

We can be utterly honest about how we feel— and work our recovery anyway. 

We can want to quit— and work our recovery anyway. 

We can be f*ckng over it— and work our recovery anyway. 

I do not expect, or even want, you to have an amazing, or even “positive” attitude at every point in this process. 

I do want you doing what you need to do to be safe and stable, regardless of whether today is a diamond or a rock. 

I do want you absolutely refusing to give up, even on the days when you’re over it all and your attitude sucks ass, because your bullies and abusers do not, do not, do not get to win. 

I don’t feel like a million bucks every day. Some days I feel like a wrinkled five dollar bill that’s been through the wash. 

But you and I do the things we need to do to change our nervous system, bit by realistic bit, because we are f*cking with the hassle. 

I know: you may not believe that right in this moment, pursuant to the “over it” extravaganza. 

But you are. Worth it, I mean. 

You are worth persisting, even when you’re over it. 

You are worth protecting, even when you’re over it. 

You are worth whatever it takes to realistically feel and function differently. 

And that equation absolutely exists.