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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mind you: those stories are just that. Stories. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The truth is, of course we can. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Internal communication and “parts” work in trauma recovery.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Self love” is oversold.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Don’t let it. It’s not necessary. 

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

That, after all, is a loving behavior. 

Complex trauma is about patterns and adaptations.

Complex trauma was trauma we had to adapt to. 

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

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

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

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

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

So— we adapted the way we adapted. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Trauma recovery is improv. “Yes, and.”

Trauma recovery is improv. 

Improv is a form of performance art in which the performers are given broad prompts, and they come up with scenarios, skits, and stores around what they are given. 

Improv obviously requires creativity. It requires focus. It can seem to require a fair amount of confidence, although it’s my experience that many introverts are surprisingly good at improv. 

People who don’t have experience with improv can find it intimidating. 

They can get it in their head that improv is a form of performance art that you’re either good at or you’re not— and if you’re not good at it, you may as well not bother trying. 

It’s true that some people tend to be naturally better at improv than others— though, in fairness, that’s true about literally any activity. 

The real truth is, as freewheeling and instinctive as improv can appear, there are principles that make for successful improv performances. 

It’s not just pure creativity or talent. It’s not all about confidence. 

The ability to perform improv is a skillset— one at which most people get demonstrably better as they work at it. 

Yes, there is a lot of room for potential flexibility within the principles and skills that make for good improv— but there’s no question that performers who know how improv works, what tends to make for successful improv performances, consistently do better at the art form. 

People who don’t think they can do improv very often surprise themselves as they learn the skills and principles of the art— and they increasingly find that they can weave their own personality and creativity into their improv skills. 

All of this can be said of trauma recovery as well. 

Many people assume they can’t “do” recovery because they’re not naturally good at the skills and tools recovery requires us to develop— but those skills and tools can be learned and developed. 

Just like no two improv performances are the same, because different performers have different strengths and styles, no two trauma recoveries look exactly the same— because different survivors have different strengths, needs, and supports. 

My trauma recovery may not look like your trauma recovery, any more than my improv performances may look like yours— but there will be principles and structure that will be common to both. 

The reason I don’t get ultra specific with recovery tools and skills on the internet is the same reason improv coaches can’t get super specific with advice on how to do improv— because each survivor and performer has different strengths, styles, and needs. 

Perhaps most importantly, the success of an improv performance depends upon accepting the implications and limitations of the prompt. In improv this process is known as meeting the prompt with a “yes, and” attitude. 

Performers who do not accept the implications and limitations of the prompt (think Michael Scott in the episode of “The Office” where he continually tries to redirect his improv scene to his own “secret agent” storyline, which had nothing to do with the prompt) can’t explore the possibilities of the potential performance. 

They can’t bring their tools or skills as performers to bear, because they refuse to accept the realty of the prompt— the baseline requirement of the performance. 

This is analogous to the necessity of trauma survivors’ accepting the realty of what happened to us— and the reality and severity of our symptoms. 

If we refuse to accept these basics of our situation— our “prompt”— we cannot bring our skills, tools, or philosophies to bear. None of it will matter, because we’ll be too busy staying in denial, instead of crafting our recovery. 

Designing a trauma recovery is like crafting an improv scene. 

Does it require creativity? Yes. Does it require individuality? Yes. 

But is it more likely to be successful if it follows the principles and involves the tools and skills known to support recovery? Yes. 

Everyone in trauma recovery could stand to learn about the skills and structure of improv. 

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

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

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

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

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

We are not always going to FEEL acceptable to ourselves. 

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

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

What do we DO when we accept someone, wholly? 

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

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

What we DO when we love someone? 

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

We have their back. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Easy does it. Breathe; blink; focus. 

Trauma recovery your way.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Just noticing is a recovery skill.

Trauma recovery begins with just noticing. 

Just noticing how we feel. 

Just noticing what we need. 

Just noticing whose voice it is echoing in our head. 

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

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

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

We’re really good at judging. 

We’re really good at compartmentalizing. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Healing that starts with just noticing. 

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

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

How do we begin just noticing? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What are you just noticing right now? 

See? You’re on your way. 

Get a good plan, Stan.

If we do not have a plan for today that is consistent with and supportive of our trauma recovery, someone else has a plan for us— that is most likely not consistent with or supportive of our trauma recovery. 

One of the biggest mistakes many survivors in recovery make is trying to vibe our way through the day without a plan. I’ve made this mistake way more times than I can count. 

Here’s what we need to understand about trauma: after years, it has become our default setting. If we leave ourselves on autopilot, we’re going to end up veering in the direction of trauma responses and trauma BS (Belief Systems). 

In order to stay on a recovery consistent course, as opposed to getting yanked toward relapse and trauma responses, we need to have a plan. Every day. 

Does this sound exhausting? Yes. To me it does, anyway. 

Is it entirely necessary to realistically keep our recovery on track? Absolutely. 

We don’t need to need to make our daily plan super detailed. We only need it to be as detailed as we need it to be to avoid going on autopilot. 

For my money, a good place to start with our daily recovery plan is with a SWOT analysis— a brief listing of our strengths and weaknesses today, and an overview of the opportunities and threats today presents. 

A SWOT analysis will help remind us of our strengths and keep us real about our vulnerabilities today— and it’ll also point us in the direction of where we need to go and what we need to be aware of to successfully work our recovery today. 

Trauma Brain is going to try to tell us that doing a SWOT analysis and sketching out a plan for the day is too much hassle. 

Trauma Brain might also try to tell us that “normal” people don’t need to go through all this to live a “normal” existence— and the fact that we apparently do need to do all this means we’re “broken” or “weird” or “weak.” 

The truth is, every human being, traumatized or not, would likely benefit from doing a daily SWOT analysis and sketching out a plan for the day. It’s not exclusive to trauma survivors— although the fact that we have a recovery to work means we have to be intentional and disciplined about doing these things that everybody would probably benefit from doing. 

I’ve said it before: I would not have chosen the experience of surviving abuse or neglect fo either me or you. It’s staggeringly unfair that ether you or I have to work a trauma recovery at all. It’s true: we shouldn’t even have to THINK about these things. 

That said, the fact that we do have to work a structured, intentional trauma recovery in order to stay safe and stable means that we have the opportunity to develop life skills and tools that many non-survivors never get around to learning— much to their detriment. 

The SWOT analysis is one way of approaching our daily plan and structure— but it’s not the only way. There are plenty of journaling exercises, mediations, visualizations, or other morning Recovery Supporting Rituals (RSR’s) that can get us pointed in the right direction. 

Whichever RSR’s you choose for your morning, however, I strongly recommend writing down your goals for the day. 

If we value a goal, we need to write it down. It’s not going to work to just let it rattle around in our head. 

If we value a goal, we need to track our progress and our incremental baby steps toward it. It’s not going to work to just go on vibes. 

Is all of the a hassle? It might look like it. It might feel like it. Trauma Brain most certainly wants us to feel and believe it is. 

But in my experience, adding just a little bit of structure to our day— and to our trauma recovery goals in general— is far far less hassle than letting our trauma programming autopilot run or ruin our lives. Which it will, if we don’t intentionally do something different. 

Easy does it. What realistically happens is, we start doing this stuff; it feels awkward and burdensome; we keep doing this stuff; we get used to doing this stuff; we get good at doing this stuff— and along the way we realize how important doing this stuff is to our safety and stability. 

This is not beyond you. 

Start small— but start. 

The .01% trauma recovery paradigm.

You need to know that realistic, sustainable trauma recovery doesn’t happen in one flash or breakthrough. 

It happens in increments. We notice it in increments. 

We don’t “recover,” and then suddenly stop experiencing trauma responses. I wish it was like that. 

What does happen is, we catch ourselves in the midst of having a trauma response, and we begin to remember tools we’ve developed to deal with them. 

Even then: the tools won’t work perfectly, and the trauma response won’t suddenly disappear— but what will happen is, the trauma response will resolve more quickly than it would have otherwise. 

This is how real world recovery works. Incrementally. 

Don’t get me wrong: there will be times when we do experience breakthroughs, and we will take certain steps in our recovery that are significant— where we are aware that we’ve experienced significant movement or improvement. 

But most of the time, what we’re shooting for are .01% shifts in how we handle the reactivity of our traumatized nervous system— which can be, by definition, unpredictable. 

Why is it important to be clear about this, to remind ourselves of this daily, in our trauma recovery? 

Because, in my experience, trauma recovery is f*cking exhausting and discouraging. 

We suffer for so long— and, if you’re anything like me, while you’re suffering, you develop this fantasy of learning a skill or tool or having a breakthrough, and everything suddenly being different. 

Then, when we get into the sh*t, we’re reminded of how f*cking impossible this whole “recovery” thing can feel. 

That’s when we need to remember: this “recovery” thing is NOT dependent upon breakthroughs or miracles. 

If we can remember, when we’re in the sh*t, that all we’re shooting for is incremental improvement, handling this trauma response .01% better than the last one— that changes our approach to managing the trauma response in front of us. 

One of the toughest practical tasks in trauma recovery is managing our expectations— and dealing with the hopelessness that feeling so overwhelmed, so often, can lead to. 

Keeping in mind the .01% improvement paradigm is essential to managing expectations and combatting that hopelessness. 

Understand: I want more than .01% improvement for you. I want you constantly building and developing and refining your skillset. The goal is not to STOP at .01% improvement. 

Again: the practical reason I want you reminding yourself every single day of the .01% paradigm is because it is a focus-directing tool that keeps us in the game when we might otherwise be pressured to give up. 

.01% increments add up. In fact, they do more than add up: they multiply. They increase exponentially— if we can stay in the game.

Managing expectations and hopelessness is a threshold issue in trauma recovery. If we can’t manage these predictable vulnerabilities, it won’t matter what tools we develop— we will not be sufficiently motivated or focused to use them. 

It matters, a lot, how we think about and how we talk to ourselves about the pace and timing of our trauma recovery. Our self talk and mental focus are not abstract variables here. They come directly to bear on our daily functioning. 

Remind yourself of the .01% paradigm at least daily— and as often as needed during trauma responses. 

And then focus on the .01% movement that will make the most realistic difference for you, today.