drglenndoyle

WTF is the “f*ck” trauma response?

What I call the “f*ck” trauma response, where we respond to triggers by becoming hyper sexualized, fixated on sexual thoughts and behaviors, and vulnerable to risky sexual choices, is not the “fawn” response, where we please and appease in order to avoid danger. 

I think of the “f*ck” response as separate from, but related to, “fight,” “flight,” “freeze,” “fawn,” and “flop.”

(As you learn about the “F” trauma responses, you’ll come to understand they’re all related on certain levels, but very distinct on others.) 

Yes, sometimes sexual behavior is driven by the “fawn” “please and appease” reflex— but that’s not quite what I’m talking about with “f*ck.” 

When our abuse was sexual, it can do a real number on how we think about, respond to, and otherwise experience sexually. 

In some ways the “f*ck” response can appear to be a “fawn” reflex— but the main difference is that “fawn” focuses on please and appeasing the threatening person, whereas “f*ck” is focused on regulating our own nervous system. 

In some ways, “f*ck” does resemble the “flight” response, in that survivors experience it as a “flight” into sexual ideation and behavior to avoid feelings of threat— but the end goal of “f*ck” isn’t really escape, as it is with “flight.” 

In other ways, the “f*ck” response can resemble the “freeze” reflex, in that survivors can use sexual thoughts and behaviors as a way to “stop” triggering thoughts cold (in this way, “f*ck” also kind of resembles certain self harm behaviors, which survivors also use as “thought stopping” tools.)

In yet other ways, “f*ck” can resemble the “fight” trauma response, depending on how it manifests. “Fight” is a reflex centered on feeling a sense of power and efficacy as a survivor “fights back” against fear and helplessness— and anyone familiar with the “f*ck” response knows how empowering it can feel in the moment to proactively seize “control” of sexual impulses.

The reason I believe it’s important to discuss the “f*ck” response as its own thing alongside “fight,” “flight,” “freeze,” “fawn,” and “flop,” is that trauma survivors vulnerable to the “f*ck” response very often get shut down when they try to discuss it. 

Speaking as a survivor of childhood sexual abuse myself, I can affirm that sexualized trauma responses are not the easiest to acknowledge or explore, specifically because of stereotypes around how “damaged” we are after sexual abuse. 

Many survivors vulnerable to the “f*ck” response feel shame around it in ways we don’t around the other “F” responses. 

It can get to the point where we don’t even want to acknowledge that there is anything trauma-driven about how we experience sexuality, because we don’t want to navigate others’ judgment about our sexual behaviors, fantasies, or needs. 

Simply reducing “f*ck” to one of the more well known trauma responses diminishes what I believe to be an essential experience for many, many survivors of sexual trauma in particular. 

Trauma survivors should not have to go to sex therapists specifically to understand and work through their behaviors and needs surrounding their sexual trauma and consequent “f*ck” trauma responses. Sex therapists can be awesome at what they do— but the “f*ck” reflex is so much a part of so may survivors’ lives, working with it should be part of any trauma informed or trauma focused therapist’s skillset. 

If we, the trauma recovery community, ignore or minimize the “f*ck” trauma response because we feel icky about it or don’t understand it, we are ensuring that both therapists and survivors don’t know how to normalize, validate, and manage it— which leaves survivors very vulnerable to sexual manipulation, exploitation, and risk. 

There is nothing shameful about being vulnerable to the “f*ck trauma” response. It has nothing to do with your morals, your standards, or your intelligence. 

Creating and experiencing a safe, fulfilling sex life begins with understanding, with compassion, patience, and clarity, how our trauma has impacted how we experience and express our sexuality. 

It’s often not a simple equation— but few things in realistic trauma recovery are. 

You’re not a “pervert,” “freak,” or irreparably sexually damaged for being vulnerable to the “f*ck” trauma response. Trauma responses are not choices; they happen, and they do not discriminate. 

Meeting it with compassion, patience, and realism is how we understand and wrangle it. 

Breathe; blink; focus. 

drglenndoyle

I want your trauma recovery to have legs.

I want your trauma recovery to have legs. 

By that I mean, I want it to last. 

I want it to be realistic. 

I want it to be sustainable. 

That’s why I don’t talk about gimmicky bullsh*t on this page— because while I’m as attracted to gimmicky bullsh*t as anyone (many of you know I got into psychology because self-help books and resource literally saved my life), trauma recovery is too serious and too important to bullsh*t about. 

I’ve been told that to expand my social media reach, I should, like, name my trauma recovery approach something cool. 

But the truth is, I don’t have something new and different for you. 

I have what has worked for trauma survivors in recovery for millennia: tools and philosophies that revolve around self talk, mental focus, and physiology, especially breathing. 

The ancient Greek and Roman philosophers knew these tools. 

The heroes of the Old and New Testament knew these tools. 

Mental health icons from Freud to Albert Ellis knew these tools. 

The tools of realistic trauma recovery— self talk, mental focus, and physiology— are not new. Literally EVERY effective trauma recovery technique revolves around them. 

Including EMDR. 

Including Internal Family Systems. 

Including Somatic Experiencing. 

Including every variant of cognitive behavioral therapy you can name, from CBT to DBT to ACT to schema therapy. 

Why bother saying this? Because it’s real easy to get discouraged out here as we’re working our recovery. 

It’s real easy to get up in our head about how all these therapy modalities sound cool and all— but what if they’re just, like, hypothetical constructs? 

After all, we don’t do trauma recovery in the therapy room— we overwhelmingly do the work of trauma recovery out here on our own. Very often in the middle of long, dark, cold nights. 

What if all this cool sounding therapy stuff doesn’t stick with us when we leave our therapy appointment? 

Or— even scarier— what if we can’t afford therapy in the first place? 

Or what if our history of interpersonal trauma makes a therapy relationship just not something we can do right now? What then? 

The reason I’m writing this post is to tell you, with absolute certainty, that you’re not screwed. 

The essential tools of trauma recovery— self talk, mental focus, and physiology— are available to you, just as they’ve been available to every trauma survivor in history. 

The fact that you’re working your trauma recovery puts you squarely in the lineage of all those warriors and poets and monks and healers— trauma survivors throughout history. 

You don’t have to buy into complex, sophisticated theories. You don’t have to scrounge up unrealistic amounts for therapy (although therapy is absolutely a useful tool for many survivors who are in the position of being able to access it). 

I want your recovery to be more than hypothetical. 

I want it to be real. 

I want it to go slow— because slow is smooth, and smooth is fast. 

I want your trauma recovery to have legs. 

drglenndoyle

When trauma responses get us off track.

CPTSD and DID often nudge us toward doing things that aren’t consistent with our goals or values. There’s no need to deny it. 

It doesn’t mean we’re not committed. It doesn’t mean we’re “stupid” or “bad.” 

It means we’re not ourselves when we’re triggered— and that’s not an excuse. That’s an explanation. 

When the “fight” trauma response kicks in, we’re more aggressive than we otherwise might be. 

When the “flight” trauma response kicks in, we might bolt situations that we would otherwise be able to handle. 

When the “freeze” or “fawn” trauma responses kick in, we might appear to consent to things that we are actually not okay with. 

None of these are “choices.” They are nervous system reflexes. 

And the reality is, we’re going to be vulnerable to those nervous system reflexes, even as we work to heal our trauma injuries. 

But, there’s no denying— trauma responses can f*ck our sh*t up. 

They can get in the way of our goals. They can compromise our values. 

They can get in our head about whether we’re realistically capable of working toward or achieving our goals. 

The truth is, experiencing trauma responses that make us behave in self sabotaging ways isn’t the end of the world— IF we’re realistic and compassionate about what’s actually happening. 

That is to say: we need to know a trauma response when we see it. 

And we have to understand that just because we did something in a triggered moment that may seem to f*ck up a goal we’ve been working toward, that doesn’t mean we’re screwed with that goal. 

It’s a setback. A bump in the road that can be corrected for— if we don’t panic and/or go down the rabbit hole of self-punishment. 

Something I think about a lot in my addiction recovery is the trap that relapse is for all addicts: once we give in to our addiction a little, Addict Brain will kick in and tell us that, as long as we’ve f*cked up, we might as well go all in— which leads to a much longer, much harder relapse than we needed to experience. 

Setbacks in trauma recovery are very similar, insofar as we have a choice about how to think of setbacks: a bump in the road that we can recover from once we catch our breath and realize what happened— or an infection point that “has” to lead us down a spiral of self hate, shame, and self punishment. 

So you had a trauma response, and did something inconsistent with your recovery and goals. So what. It happens.

It’s happened to everyone reading this— and it’s damn sure happened to the person writing this. 

Don’t panic and don’t punish. 

Just get grounded; extend compassion and support to the “part” of  you that got triggered; and figure out what the very next teeny, tiny micro choice needs to be that’ll get you back on track. 

This is how we realistically deal with trauma responses and setbacks. 

This is how we protect our recovery from Trauma Brain trying to get us to throw it in the garbage. 

Breathe; blink; focus. 

drglenndoyle

Trauma Brain and Relationship Struggles.

Trauma Brain, the internalized voice of our abusers and bullies, very often gives us an enormous amount of sh*t about our relationship struggles. 

So many trauma survivors struggle with relationships— so many HUMANS struggle with relationships— and our trauma conditioning just loves, loves, loves to blame and shame us for our relationship issues. 

The irony is, it’s often Trauma Brain— our complex trauma programming— that created or significantly contributed to those relationship issues in the fist place. 

Relationships can be complicated for CPTSD survivors. 

Complex trauma, by definition, is pain that very often wraps itself around our most important connections and relationships. 

Complex trauma tends to chip away at our sense of fundamental competence and worthiness— which then often sabotages our attempts to be close with (or tolerate closeness from) anyone else. 

One of the most frequently mentioned issues in my comments is how CPTSD does a number on our ability to trust. 

Hell, CPTSD ever often does a number on our ability to even see positives in other people— let alone in ourselves, trying to connect and relate to other people. 

And as we struggle with it all, Trauma Brain is going to becoming at us, blaming and shaming. 

(Blaming and shaming is pretty much what Trauma Brain does best.)

Trauma Brain is going to tell you your relationship struggles happen because you’re “broken.” 

Or because you’re “scared.” 

Or because you’re fundamentally “undesirable” or “unworthy.” 

Trauma Brain is going to tell you that if you weren’t so “broken” or “unworthy,” you’d “obviously” be surrounded by friends and lovers— and you’d find it easy to connect and relate to them. 

Here’s the truth: yes, CPTSD makes relationships (and attraction, and sex, and consistency in relationships) complicated— but that’s not about your fundamental worth. 

Some of the most amazing people in the world struggle with relationships because of old patterns and old pain— and that does not make them less amazing. 

Remember: you are not fundamentally “broken.” You are injured— but your injury is not fundamental to who you are. 

Your injury is not your “personality.” 

And, importantly: your injury is not permanent. 

Your current relationship struggles do not represent your ultimate relationship destiny. 

But most importantly: your relationship struggles are not your fault. 

Blame and shame, Trauma Brain’s favorite tools, miss the mark on this one. 

There’s no denying you are injured, and in need of support and tools to heal— but that’s very different from “your’e just bad.” 

Or “you’re just gross.” 

Or “you’re just destined to be alone.”

Remember: Trauma Brain is not interested in truth or reality. It just wants you to feel a certain kind of way— and it fully understands that your pain points around relationships are a fast track to getting you to feel that way. 

You are not the first, last, or only survivor to struggle with relationships. Ask me how I know. 

And your current struggle is not a life sentence. Regardless of what Trauma Brain just whispered in your ear as you read that. 

Breathe; blink; focus. 

drglenndoyle

MacGuyver-ing our way through trauma recovery.

Let’s be honest: many CPTSD survivors reading this are doing recovery on their own. 

No therapist. Limited support. Limited community. 

When trauma recovery is discussed on the internet, it’s often in the context of therapy— what works, what doesn’t, what the hot new modalities are, what a good trauma therapist does and doesn’t do. 

But let’s be real: most CPTSD survivors who need good trauma therapy, don’t get good trauma therapy. 

And that’s to say nothing of the survivors struggling with DID or OSDD who can’t find competent treatment.

Affordability is an issue. Availability of decent therapists is an issue. 

For many many survivors, safety is an issue— because they’re still in relationships or situations where it is unsafe or impossible to get to therapy sessions.

Of course it’s preferable for ever survivor to have access to competent trauma work and recovery support— but that’s just not the world we live in, is it? 

So: we have to take seriously the fact that most CPTSD survivors are what I call MacGuyver-ing their way through recovery. 


Gathering resources on their own. 

Connecting with other survivors and communities on their own. 

Adapting what they hear and read about. 

Improvising this whole thing as best they can. 

One of the reasons I do what I do on the internet is, self-help books and resources saved my life once upon a time. 

No joke. I was depressed and and anxious and traumatized and addicted and alone and a teenager— and consistent, trauma informed or focused therapy wasn’t an option for me. 

(Which is just as well, because I wouldn’t have known to call what I was struggling with “trauma” anyway at the time.)

DIY (“do it yourself”) resources got me by. They weren’t perfect, but they gave me enough MacGuyver-ed together tools and just enough inspiration to get me by. 

So many survivors are in the same spot I was.

Doing it on your own. 

I see you. I respect the hell out of you. 

What I offer on the internet may not be perfect or comprehensive, but I want to give you things worth thinking about as you cobble together your DIY recovery. 

Of course I wish everyone had access to good trauma therapy, and I wish good trauma therapists were able to take everyone who needs help at affordable rates. But that’s just not the world we live in. 

So: hang in there, MacGuyver. 

You are not alone. 

And you can do this, even with the limitations of doing it on your own. 

Read, read, read. Be a sponge. Take everything in. Consider ever resource that speaks to you, no mater how silly it may seem to anyone else. 

You can do this. Most trauma survivors in history did it similarly on their own. 

I promise you, you can do this. 

And I know what I’m talking about. 

drglenndoyle

You are not your trauma– you’ve been hijacked by your trauma.

We are not ourselves when we’re triggered— we become who we think we need to be to survive. 

Trauma responses are not “choices.” 

It really matters that we understand this— because Trauma Brain, the internalized voice of our bullies and abusers, will effortfully try to get us to believe that us triggered is the “real” us. 

That our behavior when we’re triggered represents “choice.” 

Here’s the thing about that: choices, in order to be true choices, need to be meaningfully free. 

That is: the alternative “choice” needs to be realistic and survivable. 

Does anybody reading this experience triggers and trauma responses as true “choices?”

When we’re tossed into a fight, flight, freeze, fawn, or flop response, we’re doing it— reflexively— because our nervous system truly doesn’t believe the alternative is survivable. 

Trauma responses represent survival instincts, not free “choices.” 

And for that matter: what we think, feel, and do when we’re triggered has virtually nothing to do with our goals and values— you know, those things that make us, us. 

Triggers and trauma responses do not “reveal” our true personality— they obscure it. 

When our nervous system flips parasympathetic to sympathetic dominance, all of our internal resources get shunted toward staying alive— not being our most authentic self. 

So many survivors get so down on ourselves for how we are when we’re triggered. 

The culture around us doesn’t exactly help, either— many of us have plenty of people in our lives who are only too happy to tell us that our trauma defenses actually represent our “real” personality. 

Something I strongly believe about trauma recovery is that it is about rediscovering our authentic self— that our authentic self has been hijacked and/or buried by our trauma patterns, and recovery is essentially a search and rescue operation.

In some cases, recovery is a rebuild-from-the-ground up operation, for that matter. 

But one thing I know for absolute certain is that our triggered “self” is in no way our real self. 

I don’t care how long it’s been: there IS a “you” in there, underneath it all. 

I know it may not feel like it right now, but humor me and start out from that assumption. 

That you are NOT your trauma responses— you’ve been hijacked by trauma responses. Maybe for years or decades. 

Trauma recovery is emotional archeology— and emotional alchemy. 

Breathe; blink; focus. 

drglenndoyle

Regret, amends, and trauma recovery.

You don’t have to love who you were or what you did, in order to forgive yourself. 

I say this as someone who has struggled with enormous regret for years. 

Regret is literally the biggest challenge in my own trauma and addiction recovery. 

I don’t love who I was or patterns of behavior that defined my life for…decades, actually. 

I look back and I cringe. Maybe you can relate. 

In my trauma recovery, I’ve come to understand that some, maybe many, of the situations that I hate thinking about now, weren’t actually my fault or my “choice.” 

But that doesn’t always help, does it? 

I still don’t love who I was or how I responded to those situations. 

I wish I’d have been cooler. 

Smarter. 

More skilled. 

I wish I’d had more integrity, been truer to myself. 

What many people don’t understand about trauma recovery is, it’s not just about what happened to us. 

It’s also about how we responded at the time— and how we respond now to memories and feelings associated with what happened. 

There were times when I was not a nice person. Not a reliable person. Not a person of integrity. 

Yes, I can have some compassion for and extend some grace to who I was then— he was, after all, working with the tools he had at the time. 

But I still don’t love it. 

I get asked a lot about the relationship between self compassion, self forgiveness, and those times when we weren’t our best selves. 

“What if I actually DID hurt someone, even if I was down the rabbit hole of a trauma response that I didn’t choose?” 

Well, what if? 

I actually agree that our trauma wounds don’t, actually, give us a “free pass” to hurt people. 

If we weren’t our best selves, if we behaved destructively, we should own up to that. 

The problem that many of us trauma survivors have with “owing up” to our past behavior, tough, is that we have a tendency, because of our trauma programming, to blow right past “accepting responsibility” and lock right in on “kicking the sh*t out of ourselves.” 

Kicking the sh*t out of ourselves is not useful, necessary, or deserved. 

“Personal responsibility” and “making amends” in the context of trauma recovery is not about self-punishment. 

It IS about accountability— and realistic accountability is about changed behavior. 

We don’t change behavior long term out of shame or punishment. 

As counterintuitive as it might be, self-forgiveness puts us in a much better  position to sustainably change how we think, feel, and behave going forward. 

“Grace over guilt” is not just a catchy slogan. 

It’s a summary of how we practically, realistically approach our role in the train wreck of our past.

Neither you nor I require “forgiveness” for things that happened TO us. 

And both you and I can realistically, self-compassionately take responsibly for how we’ve responded to the things that have happened to us without kicking the sh*t out of ourselves.

With practice, we can do that, anyway.

drglenndoyle

Just “reach out,” oh really?

You’re going to be told to “reach out,” that trauma “only” heals in “safe relationships.” 

I understand why this is said. 

And, I think that dramatically oversimplifies things for many trauma survivors. 

It’s true that safe, stable relationships can help us regulate our nervous system. 

It’s true that safe relationships now can support us in healing the damage done by unsafe relationships in the past. 

But it’s also true that “reaching out” is not simple or easy for many trauma survivors. 

The truth about trauma recovery that many people dislike talking about is, many survivors are STILL not in safe situations. 

Many survivors reading this don’t actually HAVE safe connections they can realistically reach out to today, even if they wanted to. 

The world often treats survivors’ reluctance to “reach out” as a manifestation of their trauma symptoms, and sometimes it is— but very often “reaching out” is just not that straightforward. 

When therapists and others state that “trauma only heals in safe relationships,” that can lead survivors to whom safe relationships are not currently accessible to believe there’s no point in even trying to develop trauma recovery tools. 

The trauma recovery community is not good at supporting survivors who are not in a position to “reach out” or who have legitimate reasons to limit their reliance on other people right now. 

Of course I’d prefer every survivor feel realistically able to reach out— and I’d prefer if safe relationships were realistically available to every survivor reading this. 

And, I know that’s a fantasy. 

We, the trauma recovery community, need to get better at supporting survivors whose healing for whatever reason right now isn’t going to involve many other people. 

If you’re in the position where you simply can’t safely or reliably involve other people in your healing, you need to know you’re not screwed. 

You can still develop recovery tools that help soothe, ground, and regulate your brain, nervous system, endocrine system, and your physical body. 

You can still do trauma processing work— though doing it on your own is obviously going to require you to be realistic about risks, safety, and pacing. 

I want everyone to have safe relationships available to them as a healing tool, including a safe therapy relationship with a competent, trauma informed therapist. That would be my ideal world. 

We do not live in that world. 

So don’t feel bad if “reach out” is advice that makes you despair— or infuriates you. 

Some of us understand it’s not that simple— and that it’s not your fault that it’s not that simple. 

Just do what you can with what you have, today. 

Easy does it. 


Breathe; blink; focus. 

drglenndoyle

“Control” is a bogus concept.

Trauma survivors very often feel “out of control.” 

We know we’re not in control of many of the events of our lives. The events of our lives have demonstrated that to us, again and again. 

But also we very often feel like we have next to zero control over our reactions and feelings. 

It’s true that having endured certain things in our life mean we are particularly vulnerable to overwhelming feelings and behavioral reflexes that are often confusing or even self destructive. 

But thinking in terms of “controlling” those “problems” is only going to make the situation worse. 

“Control” is kind of a bogus concept. 

We don’t, actually, “control” our feelings, even under the best or circumstances. 

We don’t even “control” our behavioral reflexes, even under the best or circumstances. 

If someone important to us is cruel or dismissive toward us, we’re going to feel bad. There’s no “controlling” that.

If we touch a hot stove, we’re going to recoil— and thereafter, we’ll probably recoil from anything that our nervous system suspects MIGHT be a “hot stove.” There’s no “controlling” that. 

CPTSD survivors tend to get way up in our had about all the things we can’t “control”— which, it turns out, is a hell of a lot. Almost everything, in fact. 

Sustainable trauma recovery asks us to surrender our focus on “control”— and instead shift to developing realistic INFLUENCE over what we can. 

The “Serenity Prayer” in the Twelve Step recovery tradition frames it in terms of having the “serenity” to accept the things we can’t change, the “courage” to change the things we can— and the “wisdom” to know the difference. 

There is SO MUCH we can’t control out there, we will drive ourselves absolutely crazy if we persevere on it. 

Trying desperately to have “control” over things we cannot control is an absolute recipe for depression and burnout. And nobody reading this needs to set themselves up for MORE depression and burnout than they’ve already experienced. 

I recommend making the shift in your self talk from a focus on “control,” to a focus on realistic INFLUENCE. 

Don’t ask, “how can I CONTROL my mood;” ask “how can I INFLUENCE my mood 1% today?” 

Instead of asking “how can I CONTROL my trauma responses,” ask, “how can I INFLUENCE my VULNERABILITY to trauma responses by 1% today?” 

Thinking and talking to ourselves in terms of influence, rather than “control,” and adding realistic frames around our self talk (1% today), shift how our nervous system processes and responds to our self talk and expectations. 

It’s the difference between a coach who only says broad, abstract things like “DO WHATEVER IT TAKES TO WIN!” versus the coach who instructs you to “work on improving this specific skill by this specific amount, right now.” 

Our self talk around “control” is often one of our biggest vulnerabilities in trauma recovery, and we often don’t even realize it, simply because it’s so “natural” to think and talk in terms of “control.” 

Realistic trauma recovery is not about “control.” It never was. 

“Control” is really kind of a myth. 

I will bet on the survivor who gets serous about realistically INFLUENCING their patterns every time. 

drglenndoyle

Here’s the thing about exposure treatments for trauma…

If you’re working through your trauma wounds with the help of psychotherapy, there’s a chance you’re going to be told at some point that “exposure” is part of the process. 

For a long time, various exposure-based treatments were a centerpiece of working with PTSD. 

The reason for that is, PTSD was originally thought of as primarily a “disorder” of avoidance: we were hurt or terrified by a thing, so our nervous system got in the habit of avoiding that thing. 

The solution, it was thought, was to teach trauma survivors how to re-engage with the thing they were so hurt by, the thing they learned to avoid. That is to say: to expose them to it. 

To this day, “prolonged exposure” is a centerpiece of the Veterans Administration PTSD treatment protocol. 

Here’s the thing about “exposure” as a tool for working with trauma: it relies, in my opinion, on a very one dimensional view of how trauma impacts survivors. 

And exposure based treatments definitely were not designed with COMPLEX trauma or dissociation in mind— in fact, in my experience “exposure” can make CPTSD or dissociative disorders exponentially worse. 

Yes, it’s true that one of the common symptoms of PTSD is avoidance. 

But the trauma responses associated with CPTSD go much deeper than old-school formulations of PTSD acknowledge. 

Whereas PTSD tends to evoke reactions to what traumatized us, CPTSD tends to f*ck with our thoughts, feelings, and beliefs— about the world, about other people, but most notably, about ourselves. 

One of the most frustrating things ABOUT CPTSD is the fact that many of our trauma responses may not seem to have ANYTHING to do with what traumatized us— which, by the way, we may not even remember, due to how CPTSD tends to “Swiss cheese” our memory. 

You don’t change important beliefs through exposure. 

And if a survivor is dissociative— as almost all CPTSD survivors are, either a little or a lot— exposure based treatments are highly likely to just kick on those dissociative defenses. 

Oh, you may get a “part” out front that can pretend the exposure therapy was a great success. 

But what’s actually happened is, the complex trauma wound has been deepened. 

I’ve told you all that to tell you this: there IS no one-size-fits-all, “gold standard” treatment for trauma, especially CPTSD. 

Your trauma recovery blueprint has to be integrative and individualized. 

And before you proceed with ANY modality of treatment from ANY provider, look it up. Know the assumptions that modality makes, the theory of change that modality embraces— and the risks associated with that modality. 

I want the telltale sign that a trauma survivor has read my blog or page to be the fact that they are HELLA informed about their options and tools.


Even if that annoys some providers. (Sorry, not sorry.)