drglenndoyle

Nope. Not “stupid.”

That thing you think or feel, that you keep telling yourself is “stupid?” Is not stupid. 

There is nothing you can think or feel that is “stupid.” 

What we think and feel is just what we think and feel. No more; no less; no shame. 

Why do we hurl those labels at ourselves? “Stupid?” “Childish?” “Pointless?” 

Mostly because we’ve had those labels hurled at us. Sometimes over a long period of time; sometimes by people who claimed to “love” us.

We’re doing what we saw modeled. 

It’s true that we can, and often do, think and feel things that get in the way of our goals. 

Sometimes we think and feel things that make us feel not so great. 

Even those things aren’t “stupid.” Or “childish” or “pointless,” for that matter. 

If we’re serious about trauma recovery, we’re going to have to get out of the habit of mocking or dismissing or disparaging what we think and feel. 

Even when we don’t understand it. Even when we don’t love it. 

Here’s the thing: we don’t think or feel the things we think or feel on accident. 

They all make sense. 

They’re all tied to something important. 

Even the ones that seem “stupid” or “childish” or “pointless”— they’re important. They’re hooked into “parts” of us that are important. 

I don’t love everything I think or feel. There’s actually a lot that I think and feel that seems to work against my goals, that gets me behaving in ways that almost sabotage myself. 

It took a long time to get out of the habit of attacking myself when that happened. 

Our nervous system, our “parts,” our inner child— they’re not trying to sabotage us with the thought and feelings they throw our way. 

They’re just experiencing what they’re experiencing. They didn’t ask for those thoughts or feelings any more than we did. 

Meet thoughts and feelings you don’t love with acceptance and patience and realism. 

For that matter, meet the “parts” of yourself you don’t understand or love with acceptance and patience and realism. 

I’ve said it before: the quality of our trauma recovery is the quality of our relationship with ourselves. 

And good relationships are not built by hating on the things the person we’re trying to have a relationship with thinks or feels. 

drglenndoyle

Positive thinking won’t save us from CPTD– but.

Positive thinking isn’t going to save you or me from CPTSD. 

I wish it would. 

I wish I could tell you that all this CPTSD bullsh*t was a bad dream, that we could think our way out of. 

I wish I could tell you that all you or I had to do to recover from CPTSD is to fix our attitude. Because attitude is everything, and everything is attitude…right? 

Well. Not quite. 

Positive thinking doesn’t save anyone from anything. 

That said, what we think does matter. 

I’m not saying that we can think our way out of CPTSD, or that the only reason anyone suffers from CPTSD is because they’re “choosing” the “wrong” thoughts. 

(Though I’m sure someone in the comments who didn’t read this far into the post is probably going to say that. Stay toxic.) 

What I am saying is, we have a little bit of wiggle room in our thoughts. 

We have a little bit of wiggle room with how we talk to ourselves. 

We have a little bit of wiggle room in how we direct our mental focus. 

Mind you, that wiggle room may seem impossible tiny some days.

Some days it may very much feel like CPTSD is hijacking every goddamn thought in our goddamn head. 

(By the way, shout out to everyone who has ever asked if, strictly speaking, I “need” to use profanity on my posts. It’s a very f*cking good question that I will f*cking think about very f*cking hard, and get back to you. Thanks for reading.) 

I’m not saying we we have complete freedom inside our head or heart. 

I’m saying we have wiggle room— and, if we’re serious about trauma recovery, we need to take advantage of that wiggle room. 

If we use that wiggle room to focus on and amplify our limitations and our deficits— that’s going to have consequences in how we feel and function. 

Understand: negative thinking doesn’t CREATE CPTSD— but it can sure as hell be its biggest cheerleader and benefactor. 

Conversely, if we use that wiggle room to focus on and amplify our strengths and resources— that’s going to have consequences in how we feel and function as well. 

It will not “solve” all, or probably any, of our problems, and it will definitely not “cure” our PTSD. 

Positive thinking will not save us. 

But it will support our recovery a hell of a lot more realistically than negative thinking. 

I’m not saying bullsh*t yourself. 

I’m not saying “good vibes only.” 

I’m not saying your habitual thinking is your fault, or the “cause” of your pain. 

I’m just saying, get mindful and intentional about how you use your cognitive “wiggle room.” 

I’m saying that, for all the choices we DON’T have when it comes to self talk and mental focus, there are absolutely some choices we DO have. 

And I don’t believe in throwing away ANY tool that could potentially help us crawl out of this pit called CPTSD. 

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. 

drglenndoyle

“Fine.”

CPTSD survivors get real good at looking “fine.” 

“Okay.” “Unbothered.” 

There’s this myth that if trauma survivors were REALLY all that injured, we’d be non-functional— but if you’re reading this, you likely know what kind of bullsh*t that is. 

There are badly injured, badly hurting trauma survivors reading this right now who are extremely functional, as far as the world is concerned. 

There are survivors reading this who have advanced degrees. 

There are survivors reading this who have achieved all kinds of success, promotions, earned ranks, been recognized in, their professional careers. 

And these are the same survivors who have contemplated ending their lives, because they’re hurting so bad on the inside. 

You truly can’t tell a CPTSD survivor by looking at us. 

And you DEFINITELY can’t tell someone who has DID by what’s happening on the outside. 

Of course we get good at hiding our pain— we had to hide it for years, didn’t we? 

It was dangerous to acknowledge our pain. Made us more vulnerable. 

Acknowledging our pain opened us up to mockery. 

Acknowledging our pain gave other people the chance to misunderstand— or not even try to understand— what was really going on with us. 

Why would we acknowledge and express or pain when the cost was so high? 

Add to that, many of us learned that if we DIDN’T express our pain— or anything negative ever, really— we were rewarded. 

We were praised for being “mature.” 

We didn’t know it at the time, but when they called us “mature,” what they really meant was “low maintenance.” 

Acknowledging or expressing pain would have ruined all that. 

So we got good at compartmentalizing. 

Keeping our pain over here— maybe isolated to one “part” of us, who was tasked with holding it— while another part came forward and took care of business. 

I interact daily with CPTSD and DID survivors who earned advanced degrees while literally planning to kill themselves. 

So, no. You can’t tell a survivor by our accomplishments or our external “functionality.” 

We’re good at pulling off “okay.” “Fine.” 

We’re good at changing the subject. 

We’re good at stashing our pain in places inside that, we figure, can hold it forever. 

Turns out, though: those places can’t hold our pain forever. 

And those “parts” that have so supported our “functionality?” They get tired. And not infrequently resentful. 

Which is why we choose trauma recovery now. 

Because functioning on the outside while suffering on the inside truly sucks— and we’re over it. 

Right? 

Breathe; blink; focus. 

drglenndoyle

Trauma survivors and “good natured” teasing.

Trauma survivors often struggle with teasing that is supposed to be “good natured.” 

That’s what the people doing the teasing think (or say), anyway. That it’s “good natured.” “Just teasing.” “Just kidding.” “Just jokes.” 

Many survivors find ourselves getting sensitive, hurt, and, yes, triggered by “good natured” teasing. 

And then, many survivors find ourselves embarrassed for being sensitive, hurt, or triggered by supposedly “good natured” teasing. 

Why? 

Many of us have had supposedly “good natured” interactions used to shame, control, or coerce us. 

Many of us grew up in families or peer groups that communicated through teasing and mocking and pranking— and we weren’t into it. 

Many survivors are nursing wounds and scars left by old, painful relationships— and we’re not really great at instinctively separating “good natured” teasing from mean spirited teasing. 

Many of us have been shamed to the tune of, “Oh, lighten up.” 

“It was just a joke.” 

“Get thicker skin.” 

Here’s the thing: when our closest relationships, the ones in which we “should” have been able to let our guard down, turned out to be not so emotionally safe, we adjust to that lack of safety. 

We get used to being on guard. And why wouldn’t we? 

That’s what growing up or existing in unsafe relationships for years does to our nervous system. 

For many of us it wasn’t a “fine line” between “good natured” and abusive teasing— because that line didn’t exist at all. 

You do not struggle with “good natured” teasing because you have “thin skin.” 

You struggle with it because you did not have the chance to establish a safe, secure foundation of self-esteem growing up. Which is neither your fault nor a “choice.” 

We can get better at tolerating these kinds of interactions as we work on realistically shoring up our self esteem in trauma recovery— but it takes time. And patience. And the willingness to forgive ourselves for struggling with any of it at all. 

There is no shame in getting triggered by “good natured” teasing. It doesn’t mean you’re a social or emotional “failure.” 

It means what it means: you have work to do creating safety inside your head and heart. 

Which, welcome to trauma recovery. We all have that work to do. 

You can do this. 

Breathe; blink; focus. 

drglenndoyle

On a rough night.

Some nights you’re going to be in a terrible mood. 

Some nights words won’t even seem to make sense. 

Some nights your motivation is going to be garbage. 

And, let me spoil the suspense: Trauma Brain, the internalized voices of our bullies and abusers, is going to use how we struggle on some nights to try to tell us WE’RE garbage. 

Mind you, that doesn’t mean we’re garbage. It means we’ve been CONDITIONED to feel like garbage when we struggle. 

It means we’ve been CONDITIONED to attribute the fact that we struggle to some inherent quality of our being— or the supposed “fact” that we’re just “failing” at life. 

I don’t care if you feel like garbage tonight, if you feel scattered tonight, if you’re in a terrible mood tonight, or if your motivation is dog sh*t tonight— none of that means you’re “failing,” at trauma recovery or life. 

It means what it means. It’s a rough night. They happen. 

What we say to ourselves really, really matters— ESPECIALLY on a rough night. 

It’s when we struggle, when we’re triggered, that our trauma conditioning really kicks in. 

Trauma Brain can do a reasonable job of quietly lurking in the background much of the time, only to rear right up when we’re having a tough night. 

Know why that is? Because rough nights make us vulnerable. 

We tend to go on autopilot when we’re having a rough night. 

And guess who and what experiences programmed our autopilot? That’s right— our abusers and bullies. 

Trauma Brain, in other words, does exactly what abusers and bullies always do: attacks us when we’re the most vulnerable. 

We need to remember that on our rough nights. 

We need to remember how we’re feeling on a a rough night is not the same as how we’re DOING, overall, in our recovery. 

(An old mentor named Andy taught me that: “don’t confuse how you’re FEELING with how you’re DOING.”)

On a rough night we need to remember that there is no rule that says we MUST feel good or better. We’re not going to be in trouble for having a rough night. 

On a rough night we need to remember that our biochemistry and psychological functioning fluctuates throughout the day and night— and the fact that we happen to be feeling like crap right now is part of that fluctuation.

On a rough night we need to remember that there is nothing in the world wrong with just getting by, leveraging the recovery tools of distraction and containment. 

If there is anything that is universal to EVERY survivor’s experience of trauma recovery, it’s that we are GOING to have rough nights. Not “maybe;” we absolutely will. 

It doesn’t mean what Trauma Brain wants you to think it means. 

So you’re feeling like sh*t. It happens. 

Don’t overreact. Don’t make long term decisions. Don’t make short term choices that will leave you feeling sh*tty tomorrow. You know the kind of decisions I’m talking about. Play the tape forward. 

Easy does it. Breathe; blink; and focus. 

Get through tonight. 

Then push the “reset” button tomorrow. 

drglenndoyle

You’re not a “failure.” You’re a work in progress.

You’re working on stuff. That’s all. 

You’re a work in progress. No more, no less. 

You’re not “terrible” at emotional regulation. You’re working on it. 

You don’t “fail” at making decisions. You’re working on it. 

You’re not “bad” at relationships. You’re working on it. 

Trauma Brain, the internalized voices of our abusers and bullies, tries to tell us, over and over again, that we’re terrible, we fail, we’re bad at all sorts of things. 

The truth is, we may not be great at those things— but in recovery, we’re working on them. 

Reminding ourselves of this matters. 

We’re not terribly motivated to try at things we think we just suck at.

Telling ourselves we just suck at certain things is a pretty reliable way to get us to avoid those things. 

Telling ourselves we just suck at certain things tends to reinforce the belief that we are stuck with how we feel and function right here, right now. 

The reality is, we are not stuck. 

If we continue working our recovery, almost every important aspect of our lives is going to look significantly different in a year. Let alone five years, let alone ten years. 

But all that supposes we don’t give up because we’re demoralized or exhausted. 

Trauma Brain wants us to believe that we “have” to get better at these things all at once. That we “do better.” 

Realistic trauma recovery is about doing better, sure— but more importantly, it’s about consistently GETTING better. 

We GET better in increments. 

We GET better in these teeny, tiny fits and starts that are sometimes so small or irregular that thy don’t FEEL like progress at all. 

We GET better by focusing on our trajectory— not our speed. 

(This is one of my core tools of trauma recovery: trajectory matters way more than speed.)

I understand you’re not where you want to be today. Neither am I. 

But we’re not screwed. We’re not hopeless. We’re nowhere near done with our journey, our process, our project. 

We’re working on it. 

Use the tool of self-talk to regularly remind yourself: you’re not a “failure.” You’re a work in progress. 

That’s not toxic positivity bullsh*t— it’s the f*ckin’ truth. 

drglenndoyle

Trauma recovery hack: avoid loser sh*t.

Blaming victims for their own pain is such loser sh*t. 

Which shouldn’t surprise anyone who understands what Trauma Brain is: the internalized voices of our abusers and bullies, which we unwittingly play on repeat (not because we “choose” to— but because those voices become part of our conditioning). 

Of course it’s loser sh*t. Our abusers and bullies were losers. 

It takes a real loser to victimize someone vulnerable. 

It takes a real loser to evade and deny responsibility the way our abusers and bullies often did. 

Many survivors get to this point in trauma recovery where our shame suddenly morphs into righteous anger about how we’ve been conned into doing our abusers’ and bullies’ dirty work for them in our own head. 

We got tricked into talking to ourselves the way they talked to us— not because we like it or even because we made a “choice” to, but because that’s how we were talked to for years. 

Our abusers’ and bullies’ voices are our models for how to talk to and otherwise treat ourselves. 

We unwittingly, unconsciously copied those losers. 

And at a certain point in our trauma recovery we realize that fact— and we’re pissed. 

And, like any point in our trauma recovery where we get angry, we can find ourselves walking this fine line between anger at our abusers and bullies— and anger at ourselves for buying into their BS (Belief Systems— but also bullsh*t). 

Let’s be clear: it is not our fault that we responded to our conditioning. 

That’s how conditioning works. It’s not a “choice.”

Trauma responses are not choices. 

The people who DID make choices were our abusers and bullies— and they made such unbelievable loser choices that they should be embarrassed for the rest of time. 

It is maybe the weakest decision possible to victimize a vulnerable person or animal.

Which is one of the huge reasons why it’s so important we develop radically different was of relating to ourselves in trauma recovery. 

We absolutely do not want to echo or reenact what they did to us. 

Our “parts” and inner child are vulnerable— and we owe it to them to be their protector, to be the one who listens to them and extends them grace and respect. 

We owe it to our “parts” and inner child to be worthy of their trust. 

All that starts with a commitment not to repeat the past, now that we know we’re vulnerable to it. 

Your and my abusers and bullies were huge losers. 

Their behavior is only useful to us as a negative model for how to talk to and behave toward ourselves. 

A fantastic place to start is: do the exact OPPOSITE of what those losers did. Especially when you’re frustrated with or otherwise feeling negatively toward yourself. 

This is how we build a realistic recovery. 

Breathe; blink; focus. 

drglenndoyle

Let ’em moo.

As we work our trauma recovery, we’re going to get sh*t from people. 

Not “maybe.’ We will. 

Some of those people may be well intentioned, some of them won’t be— but all of it is going to be annoying. 

Here we are, just trying to make micro choices that support our safety and stability, and here they are, well intentioned or not, giving us sh*t. 

Let me assure you that no trauma survivor or addict in recovery is struggling because they haven’t gotten enough sh*t. 

Giving them more sh*t probably isn’t the move that will finally nudge them into a better place. 

But also, here’s the thing about many of the “helpful” people who are so willing and eager to give us sh*t as we work our recovery: their values, goals, or worldview may not have anything to do with ours. 

When people give us input or feedback, they make this huge assumption that we want what they want. That we value what they value. That we can do what they can do. 

But it’s very often not true. 

You need to know that the vast majority of sh*t you’re going to get in your recovery journey will be from people you don’t want to approve of you, anyway. 

Everybody’s going to have an opinion about how everybody else “should” be living their life— but that opinion may or may not be valid when it comes to you. 

But we may not always have a lot of perspective on that, thanks to the “fawn” trauma response at work. 

“Fawn” will try, hard, to convince us we “have” to take the sh*t other people give us. 

We don’t. 

It actually doesn’t matter if they approve of you. I don’t even care who “they” are, in this context. 

Anyone giving you sh*t for how you’re working your recovery is kvetching from the cheap seats. 

You’re the one in the arena. 

I’ve said it before: their opinions are a moo point. 

You know, it’s like a cow’s opinion. It just doesn’t matter. 

It’s “moo.” 

So they’ll give you sh*t. So they may not approve of how you’re working your recovery. So they’ll judge and they’ll b*tch and they’ll find all sorts of ways to try to make you feel like you’re doing it wrong. 

So? 

Let ‘em moo. 

You stay focused on YOUR recovery micro goals today, this hour. 

drglenndoyle

Try this Recovery Supporting Question over “positive thinking.”

I do not believe in “positive thinking.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

F*ck that. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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