In the middle of what I would describe as emotional carnage

A lot of the support we seek for anxiety, whether it be a podcast, a blog, or a book, often comes from an educational/informative standpoint. This is very useful when we want to develop a better understanding of our emotional well-being and how we can restore balance. However, I have taken the brave steps to write while I am in the middle of what I would describe as emotional carnage.

As you might have seen, my website has a plethora of blogs, ranging from more entertaining to informative, educational, and spiritual. I use the word “brave” for myself, not least because I’m learning to shift my internal dialogue, using positive words of self-love. I also describe writing in this way as courageous because I do so with fear, uncertainty, and an element of flatness. That is the best way I can describe it. But I considered how it might feel if I were to read about somebody else struggling to survive severe anxiety and stepping up, showing up, and creating. I know that I would feel less alone. I would be inspired to take one step in front of the other, and I would witness another person transmuting their pain.

An incessant dialogue all about my past, my future, my right now

So here I am, on a Monday afternoon, having spent the morning working, and counting my exhalations between each patient, making a chanting noise as my breath leaves my body. I started the day tired, having woken at 03:00. I silently lay in my bed, fighting the tirade of panic attacks, each lasting approximately 30 seconds, before I managed to talk myself down (in my head!). Then I lay for 20 minutes, with a train of thoughts, and an incessant dialogue all about my past, my future, my right now, my lack of sleep, what time it is, was, will be, if I ever fall asleep.

If you didn’t have a headache, you might now. It’s incredible how focused and wired the brain is during fight/flight in the dead of night (another poem?). There are few certainties in life, but one is that sleep will not come when the traffic in your head is like the M1 during rush hour. Night-time is also the loneliest, as your perception deceives you into thinking that you are the only person awake. Of course, in reality, half the world is awake, miles and miles away.

I am convinced that there is a volume button somewhere that, when you have complex PTSD, is turned to max, making your thoughts fast, furious, and in stereo for no one but you. I think the fears I experience when I am dealing with insomnia are that I will not cope the next day. This then has a snowball effect, leading me to a week of not coping, then a month, to leaving my job, and falling behind on mortgage payments. Catastrophizing. My brain is highly skilled in this art, especially when it has nothing else to do. Meanwhile, I am desperately searching for a peaceful corner of my mind to sit in, breathe quietly in, and return to sleep.

Every time I think I have found this little space, when the panic has been abated, the pulse has settled, moments few pass, before I feel the hot water travel up my spine into my neck, my head pulsate, my chest tighten, my stomach knot and the thoughts come racing back, like a hose being switched on full blast.  I now can’t understand the theory that thought leads to emotion. Perhaps my subconscious mind is so wired to panic that there is a short circuit straight to raw terror.

I wanted to write this blog for myself and my website visitors. I am as much a learner as you all are with regard to healing trauma. I wanted to return to this article in a future self, and be reassured that I did cope. With the day, the week, and the month. Evidence. The logical brain can be activated during panic, with work and persistence. If it wires together, it fires together, so says my therapist about neuroscience.

The more I count my breaths during panic, and the more I chant during exhalations (as one example of bringing down anxiety), the more this behaviour will become the short circuit that I need the panic to default to.  This gives me hope, and it should for you, too. The more you activate new behaviours, new internal dialogues, the more you start to shift old belief patterns.

I have talked in my head, we all do! Remember the article about the voice in our head? I challenged its identity! Who cares who’s talking, as long as we change the script? For example, in the middle of the early hours, I told myself, “I am safe and this will pass, breathe until it does”. I kept saying this in my head. Eventually, it did pass. It came back. I repeated.

As I finish this piece of writing, I say to you all, I have no clue how many more panic attacks I might have in the next twenty-four hours or weeks. All I can say is that I am determined. I am fighting. I am facing each day. It is the hardest work I have ever done. It is the most I have ever felt. I don’t know what the future holds, but like I’ve written in so many blogs, we only have right now. Last night and this morning are as far in the past as a hundred years ago in terms of accessing these experiences.

Each day is new. Each morning we are new.  We can allow ourselves the hope of this newness. That we are a stronger version of the person we were yesterday. The challenges from the past have provided us with the skills we need now. Every day that we work on emotional regulation, we invest in the peace of tomorrow.  Sweet dreams.

Photo by Josh Hild on Unsplash

Guest Post Disclaimer: Any and all information shared in this guest blog post is intended for educational and informational purposes only. Nothing in this blog post, nor any content on CPTSDfoundation.org, is a supplement for or supersedes the relationship and direction of your medical or mental health providers. Thoughts, ideas, or opinions expressed by the writer of this guest blog post do not necessarily reflect those of CPTSD Foundation. For more information, see our Privacy Policy and Full Disclaimer.

One such theory, originating from the Drama triangle, provides a framework from which to view interactions with others and the typical human reactions that are intrinsically linked.

The theory was designed by Karpman (1968) and describes human interaction via a trio of destructive interpersonal relationship patterns or characters: Persecutor (villain), Rescuer (hero), and Victim (damsel in distress).

I’m visualizing Rapunzel (victim) being rescued by the prince (hero), who is about to be slayed by the giant dragon (villain).  I’m sure there wasn’t a dragon in this story, and I don’t think dinosaurs were around then. It could have been a rabid dog, and in fairness, Rapunzel could as easily use her Smartphone and order a dragon slayer from Amazon, saving the prince from an inconvenience.  But we would have lost our hero!

The three key characters in the story can be applied in almost any situation. Take your mind back to a conflict, where you felt surrounded and overwhelmed. It could have been a family argument, or a work disagreement, or an argument about a parking space. All these scenarios can trigger destructive behaviors which are seemingly automatic, according to the theory, each one pushing the other participants into a default character.

What if I told you that awareness is the key to your escape from the drama triangle!  The theory is that if we work towards stepping out of the drama, we can find peace. If peace were a shape, it would be a huge love heart, and there would be no sharp edges!  The human interactions we encounter don’t always fall into this triangle of drama, but the importance is to recognize potential.

I recently had a total breakdown in the relationship with two of my siblings and for the first time (in my life, I think) I remained silent. My default (trauma) response was to step straight into villain, shouting, berating, and weaponizing my words. Don’t get me wrong, there were many times that this was warranted, and I had to stand up to be heard. However, in doing so, I sacrificed my peace. 

Have you heard of the phrase, “choose your battles”?

After four years of therapy, I learned which battles to let go of, ending a cold war with my inner child. My siblings continued battling, but as I stepped away, the triangle started to collapse, losing its sharp, brutal appearance. I watched as my sisters switched from victim (blaming me) to villain (attacking me) as letters came, reporting me to social services, to solicitors, followed by texts, first to me, then, when I remained silent, to my husband, then son, then sister-in-law.

The rule of a triangle is that all the angles combined need to add up to 180. I broke that rule. Equilateral fallout and isosceles chaos over!  The triangle eventually crumbled, but I admit, the debris that came after caused wounds, some still raw, others slowly healing. But I am proud, I reacted with intention, I slowed down my innate responses.

I spent years oblivious to my absence of impulse control. I was labelled fiery, angry, hot-headed, and fierce, but I want to take you back, as my therapist has done so many times, to my inner child. Imagine her, five years old, suddenly ripped from her home life, mother and family, taken away for eight months, then to be returned to a household of strange men, alcohol, parties, and violence.  That little girl will also show you her fear when placed in an orphanage, locked in her bedroom at night, sharing a bath with the other children, and being scolded for wetting the bed. Can you feel her anger at the world? Can you resonate with the injustice she experienced, the failure of adults and authorities to keep her safe?

That girl was not fierce; she was a warrior; she is not angry. She has anger. Towards the world. And she has the right to feel that way. I now validate her. She was never short-tempered. She was frightened that if she didn’t fight for safety, comfort, and attention, she would be neglected. So, she learned to battle her way through life. This was her survival.

At the age of almost fifty, desperate attempts had been made to force me back into the version of me that allows others to sidetrack their own accountability.  If I am the villain in their story, they are the hero. But I’ve closed the last page of that book and taken my story back. My journey was not theirs to judge, to label, to critique.  I am slowly understanding that I don’t need to fight to be heard or battle to have my needs met. I can do those things myself.  

You may find, as is the case with me, that when you start to heal and grow and forgive yourself of behaviors that no longer serve you, not everyone is ready. Others who are stuck in the drama triangle can only exist if you continue to play their villain. Bravery, accountability, acceptance, and growth are words too big to fit into the triangle.  

One of the saddest parts of healing is that you can’t take everyone with you. If, for years, you have been the villain in someone else’s story, how can they be the hero without you? If for years you have been the victim, unable to keep yourself safe, maintain safe boundaries, and suddenly you have built a fortress, they can’t be a rescuer without you.  So, you see, growth and healing can isolate you from those you have known all your life. This was the case for me.

But imagine the cold, hard soil after a cruel winter. All life seems to have frozen and died, but just as you start to tire of the bitter winter, a bud springs. Tiny at first, and then rising, like a timid hand, reaching to receive a kiss from the sun.  Before you know it, that bud is surrounded by fresh new flowers, all reaching together, petals opening to receive the spring of hope.

I hope this article has resonated and has provoked thought for more reading about the theory of the drama triangle. If you or anyone you know is suffering from mental health issues, or has a crisis requiring support, please ring your NHS GP, or local services, or ring NHS111 to find the number for your local crisis team. 

graceewilkinson.com

Grace Wilkinson, RGN, DN, NMP, Msc (Hons) Advanced Clinical Practice

Photo by Priscilla Du Preez 🇨🇦 on Unsplash

Guest Post Disclaimer: Any and all information shared in this guest blog post is intended for educational and informational purposes only. Nothing in this blog post, nor any content on CPTSDfoundation.org, is a supplement for or supersedes the relationship and direction of your medical or mental health providers. Thoughts, ideas, or opinions expressed by the writer of this guest blog post do not necessarily reflect those of CPTSD Foundation. For more information, see our Privacy Policy and Full Disclaimer.