Jess | CPTSDfoundation.org https://cptsdfoundation.org The Foundation for Post-Traumatic Healing and Complex Trauma Research Fri, 29 Mar 2024 11:31:28 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=6.9.4 https://cptsdfoundation.org/wp-content/uploads/2018/07/cropped-Daily-Recovery-Support-Globe-iPad-Fav-32x32.png Jess | CPTSDfoundation.org https://cptsdfoundation.org 32 32 Vulnerability, Intimacy, and Trust Issues with CPTSD https://cptsdfoundation.org/2023/04/12/vulnerability-intimacy-and-trust-issues-with-cptsd/ https://cptsdfoundation.org/2023/04/12/vulnerability-intimacy-and-trust-issues-with-cptsd/#comments Wed, 12 Apr 2023 09:04:17 +0000 https://cptsdfoundation.org/?p=247428 How do you feel about relationships?

Complicated?

Do you:

  • want them?
  • despise them?
  • fear them?
  • long for them?
  • exit relationships rapidly? 
  • get stuck in them

Are you haunted by cycles of unfulfillment? 

At the beginning, middle, and end of the day maybe you’re a bit skeptical. Maybe you’ll try. You’ll attempt a connection. But the connection either goes too far too fast or goes nowhere at all.

Maybe you’ve given too much in relationships in the past. Now you’re a bit stingy when it comes to extending yourself so far for someone else again? And who could blame you? Cue exhaustion and exasperation.

Maybe you’ve given up on relationships completely? You decided a long time ago that they’re more trouble than they’re worth? Again, cue the life draining out of your body.

Or, maybe you’ll give them a swing? But you tend to keep people at ten arm’s length? They can know you, but they won’t be allowed to KNOW you. And you might not have much interest in knowing the deepest depths of them, either.

And besides, you’ve probably had the experience that “no one can really get it.” No one can really “get you.”

No matter your strategy, it just feels… safer that way. You’re not a fool. You’ve seen what can happen and extrapolated what could ALWAYS happen again. And besides, you’ve probably had the experience that “no one can really get it.” No one can really “get you.”

PS – other humans are hell

So why bother forming these supposedly important, healing, trauma-recovering relationships? Why aim for close connections? Why reveal yourself to people, when people love to punish you for exactly that?

Why on earth would any one of us decide to issue vulnerability, intimacy, or trust to another party? And accept all the subsequent pains that are destined to follow?

Well, that’s the topic of the month. We’re taking a deep dive into relationships – and more, the stable, close, and healing relationships we supposedly all need to fully heal our trauma wounds. And we’ll be chasing that train of thought for the next few months, diving deeper into what’s happening inside of ourselves that prevents authentic connection.

So, the unfulfilling relationship issue all starts with safeguarding ourselves against offering vulnerability, intimacy, and trust – from what this Muff can tell.

We ain’t got them to spare and we’re not looking to extend them to others, after so many experiences providing important lessons about the dangers of those decisions.

And, of course, it all starts in childhood. Or whenever your initial traumas went down.

We learn early on that other people are dangerous. They don’t meet us in the middle or consider our experiences. They use and dismiss us, depending on how it serves them. We have those beliefs confirmed later down the line when our childhood experiences are repeated. And our brains wisely determine “never fucking again, better off without them.”

Shutting down all ability for vulnerability, intimacy, or trust – the foundations of long-lasting, healthy, brain-rehabilitating relationships

So, let’s get into the definitions.

Intimacy is allowing someone to get close to you, showing them your soft underbelly. Vulnerability is the knowledge that someone COULD strike at those parts, but exposing them anyways. And trust is believing that they WON’T take advantage of what they’ve learned, believing they’re reliable and consistent in their care and authenticity.

Annnnnd I’m positive we could stop right there and chortle together about those ideas right now. “SHOW someone my shit? Give them the opportunity to destroy me? AND believe that they won’t, so it’s okay to proceed?

Yeah, a lot of us. PTSD passes along some common lessons that we tend to take to heart. And then they define our social and survival strategies for lifetimes.

So. This month we read quite a bit from a study performed with veterans returning from active duty who engaged in high-risk sexual behaviors and refused to have “full relationships” with their partners. We went through their direct accounts of these loosey-goosey partnerships and found quite a few commonalities with the complexly traumatized crowd.

We have needs. We have to fulfill them. But we fear our deeper emotional needs, so those tend to get ignored. We engage in distant, poorly defined relationships, which help us feel safe while meeting those biological needs. And we’re expecting rejection at all turns, so there’s really no perceived choice in the matter.

Yet, at the same time, we have cataclysmic wounds inside of us that aren’t being mended by this strategy.

We’re still emotionally lonely, unsupported, and isolated, even in a relationship. And we often turn around to resent our distant partners when they don’t offer us what we’re TRULY longing for… even when we haven’t given them the opportunity to do it before.

I.e. the participant who purposely kept sexual partners sequestered to a non-emotional connection… and then got mad at them when they weren’t abruptly available during a time when he needed emotional support. He ended the relationships when the other parties didn’t meet his needs, which were unexpressed and denied. Then he was upset that no one could use their mind-reading powers to flip the relationship dynamic in an instant.

We’ve Learned

We can set up relationships to help ourselves get through the day… to remember that we still exist in the human species… but that doesn’t mean they’re providing actual connection to our lives. They don’t always include vulnerability, intimacy, or trust. Often those attributes are completely absent.

What we DO get from them is physical comfort, ego support, and a false sense of security. But they lack authenticity, disclosure, and emotional relation.

And that doesn’t actually sit well with us.

They scratch some shallow itches. They keep us afloat, in some ways. At least we don’t feel completely isolated or deprived of the sexy junk.

But the participants mentioned time and time again that they were in this relationship pattern NOW, but it wasn’t ideal. They often felt lower, more depressed, and more PTSD symptomatic after surface-level relationship experiences or sexual encounters. They had to deal with personal shame and intrusive memories in the aftermath. Feeling inauthentic, empty, and emotionally alone.

Overall, the soldiers who participated in the study had goals for better relationships but weren’t able to offer them to others at the time.

You know, “for everyone’s sake.”

Another common characteristic of the research participants’ experiences was the idea that the PTSD sufferer in question wasn’t personally prepared to be in a healthy relationship. Yes, they were protecting themselves from the pains of connection… but at the same time, they held beliefs that it was best for the other party, as well. “I’m just not relationship material yet” is the name of the game.

And that sounds familiar. Being concerned about what we’ll do to others if we were to be ourselves around them. Especially when we’re still working on our own inner and outer problems. I say “Amen.” And so I keep my shit to myself.

So, from all of this, we heard that traumatized individuals desire what they fear. They work against what they truly need. They might entirely stop trying to form relationships, or they might end up in relations that don’t actually suit anyone involved to the deepest degree – instead, they settle for surface-level associations that feel somewhat relieving, at least on a physical or egoic level.

But throughout all of this relational tomfuckery, we don’t get what we’re hurting for. We don’t find healing through our partnerships. We just continue to echo our early traumas.

We aren’t able to disclose those experiences, creating chasms between us and our partners, and keeping those memories fragmented from our daily experiences. We perpetuate the narrative that “something is wrong with us and no one will ever be able to understand or accept us.” Which rots out our lives with engaging self-limitations.

We continue holding ourselves back from experiencing real life. And keep strengthening our trauma-brained programming by hiding pieces of ourselves. Living in fear of ever being “fully found out.”

We keep the idea that “humans equal pain” alive. We increasingly edit who we are around others to avoid what we can’t fathom experiencing again. We live in ongoing fear, deprivation, and social disconnection. And wonder why our brains aren’t healing the ways that we hoped they would.

Well, Fuckers.

I understand the lone-wolfing lifestyle. I love it. I lean on it. And I have a hard time letting it go.

But I’m recently coming to terms with the less comfortable truth.

Connection is a fundamental human experience. One that’s NEEDED for our successful development and survival. We’re biologically designed FOR it. There are theories that the human brain evolved for experiences of love and species support.

So. We may have missed out on early opportunities for vulnerability, intimacy, and trust in our close relationships, and this has plenty of implications when it comes to brain and attachment style development. But perpetuating that lack for the rest of our lives isn’t doing anyone any good, either. It isn’t nourishing or rewiring the brain. It ISN’T “keeping us safe.” It isn’t challenging our traumatic narratives or forming new perspectives.

It’s keeping us locked in time. Separated from the rest of the species. And stuck with our own shamed brains, forever trying to hide and mask ourselves from others as we negatively judge what lurks below the surface. And get a bit self-obsessive doing it, since we’ve been left with little to think about besides our own thoughts.

Engaging in vulnerable, intimate, and trusting relationships is a required part of trauma recovery. We’d all rather avoid it. Even though we all dream of it.

Sometimes those dreams are overtaken by living nightmares that we flee from forever. But, the hard underlying reality is… we’d all benefit from learning how to do it.

The research shows, being able to get vulnerable with others and experiencing acceptance leads to greater self-acceptance, a sense of security, and enhanced connectivity. And there are some ways to help ourselves, help ourselves with these wanted (but unwanted) goals. Even when we’re still trauma-symptomatic.

The research showed that being part of a group that’s based on supporting one another opens up room for us to practice being consistently engaged with others. Social norms such as trouble-texting or keeping the conversation in the small talk arena go out the window when the group is centered around keeping tabs on one another. There’s an enhanced sense of interrelational responsibility that helps us learn to rely on each other and be reliable FOR one another.

That opens the door to learning how to relate consistently, openly, and supportively – despite what our prior programming would normally dictate is “typical, acceptable, behavior.” Breaking down barriers that societal rules normally instate.

Does another intimate relationship assist? Is engaging with children. You know, like… your own children, your siblings, or maybe a community organization. Not, like, random children on the streets. Obviously, don’t be that guy. 

The literature shows that PTSD sufferers who had relationships with children found themselves practicing vulnerable relationships, relational responsibility, and measured self-disclosure which helped them apply those skills to others. Those who were able to share their unspoken life stories with adult children felt relieved, more closely connected, and understood, in the aftermath. Quite a change, starting from hiding their autobiographies for decades.

And if you’re NOT on the market for interacting with children… ya know… consider how pets can help.

If we’re better able to engage in VIT relationships when we have an increased degree of social responsibility and reduced threat of betrayal, animals are also a great place to start. They need us. They can’t talk shit. They can’t betray our trust. And they offer unconditional love, even when we’re not estimated to be “at our best.”

And from there, with any of these options, we just have to keep practicing authentic connection. With the good news about brains and behavioral science: it gets easier and easier, the more you receive evidence that you won’t be cast aside, punished, or worse. Validation builds momentum. If one person (or fur people) can accept you, you’ll continue to build evidence, build experience, and realize that many can.

 

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]]> https://cptsdfoundation.org/2023/04/12/vulnerability-intimacy-and-trust-issues-with-cptsd/feed/ 2 Shared Mechanisms of Rumination, Depression, and CPTSD https://cptsdfoundation.org/2021/02/19/shared-mechanisms-of-rumination-depression-and-cptsd/ https://cptsdfoundation.org/2021/02/19/shared-mechanisms-of-rumination-depression-and-cptsd/#comments Fri, 19 Feb 2021 11:00:34 +0000 https://cptsdfoundation.org/?p=235703
Today I wanted to take a step back and talk about something that I researched relatively recently for a different project. Something that has only become more relevant in my life as this post has sat around, untouched.
 
The connections between rumination, depression, and CPTSD.
 
And, uh, besides the research, I’ve got my own new personal insights to add to the discussion. Not gonna lie, I blew my own mind the other day – the longer I consider this realization, the more realized it becomes. Now I’m wondering if anyone else has noticed this common feature of their more perseverant thoughts… or if noticing it in the future might be helpful.
Recently, I wrote a quick piece about a trauma review that focused on inspecting the correlations between ruminatory thinking, depression, and PTSD. Good for me? Eh. Not sure. It’s definitely gotten my mind spinning.
 
Don’t get me wrong, a big part of my interest, as usual, was learning more about how my own obsessive thought patterns contribute to my other mental ailments; namely, wanting to die and also always feeling like I’m dying.
 
In fact, one of my most destructive activities throughout my more traumatized years was deep rumination. Though, at the time, I didn’t see it that way. I would regularly get “stuck” in a certain thought pattern and emotional state – from the inside, it didn’t seem like this was a nameable experience. It just felt like losing my goddamn mind, not like I was having persistent, intrusive thoughts.
 
In fact, one of my most destructive activities throughout my more traumatized years was deep rumination. Though, at the time, I didn’t see it that way. I would regularly get “stuck” in a certain thought pattern and emotional state – from the inside, it didn’t seem like this was a nameable experience. It just felt like losing my goddamn mind, not like I was having persistent, intrusive thoughts.
 
In that state, I couldn’t focus my energy on more productive places. I couldn’t shake the shitty feelings that came along with my thoughts. I couldn’t escape from endless cycles of the same sentiments, looping on repeat for hours, days, weeks, and months. I was never present. I was barely functional. And my brain felt like it lived in a different universe.
 
In short, I felt like a total nutjob. Like my mind had just given up on me. Like I was never going to have control of my faculties again.
 
And you know what? Those fears of slipping into insanity made me a lot more depressed, anxious, and trauma-responsive… plus gave me something else to ruminate about if you can believe it. I’m sure you can. This is quite a common cycle of negative thoughts leading to mental illness leading to more negative thoughts, or vice versa.
 
So, when I saw this article, I knew that it was something I wanted to dig into. I mean, what is the connection between our obsessive thoughts and persistent mental illness? Which comes first, the chicken or the egg? At what point does the egg produce more chickens to hatch more self-hate? Why does my brain do that, and how does it affect my potential for recovery down the road?
 
So when I saw this article, I knew that it was something I wanted to dig into. I mean, what is the connection with our obsessive thoughts and persistent mental illness? Which comes first, the chicken or the egg? At what point does the egg produce more chickens to hatch more self-hate? Why does my brain do that, and how does it affect my potential for recovery down the road?
 
Let me tell you, this post has only gotten more relevant the longer I’ve sat on it. I’m pretty sure shutting down my rumination is the key to unlocking half of my brain potential – and I’m pretty happy to report that I have a new way to look at the unwanted cognitive pattern that helps me to feel less fucked when I’m trapped in the throes of it.
 
So, today, I’m taking a dry article that I wrote for someone else… and turning it into a TMFRs podcast. Because I can’t stop thinking about all the ways this rumination disaster impacts our lives, on repeat. (See what I did there?)
 
Let’s talk about Rumination.
 
 
 
 
What IS rumination
 
So, I mentioned this in another post already because I found it interesting to think about. But rumination is literally defined as the process of eating food, regurgitating it back up, rechewing the pumice, and swallowing again. Yeah, it’s a definition of a cow’s digestive behavior that I learned in Animal Science university. But it’s also a pretty astute description of what I do to myself when I’m stuck in a thought loop.
 
For me, this perseverant thinking presents as a non-stop, all holds barred, the battle between me, my head, and my gut. And it, unfortunately, starts and stops with yours truly.
 
When I’m in a rumination pattern, my whole life is disturbed. From the moment I wake up in the morning throughout the moments when I attempt to go to sleep and fail for several hours, my brain gets stuck on a few interconnected thought paths. No matter what I try to do to distract myself all day, my head is unlikely to heed my commands. Even if I get myself in a new environment, working on a new task, my brain is still rooted firmly in another place, working through another topic.
 
From the moment I wake up in the morning throughout the moments when I attempt to go to sleep and fail for several hours, my brain gets stuck on a few interconnected thought paths. No matter what I try to do to distract myself all day, my head is unlikely to heed my commands. Even if I get myself in a new environment, working on a new task, my brain is still rooted firmly in another place, working through another topic.
 
Except… it’s not really working through anything. I like to think that I’m thinking about things in an enlightening, problem-resolving, understanding way… That’s how I rationalize the process dominating my head. But the truth is, I just run in fucking circles for a few hundred hours at a time, getting nowhere, as I flip through partially-formed and integrated ideas, and have physical responses that ruin me.
 
Every time I begin to consider one aspect of the issue at hand, the same chain of thoughts develops, over and over again. They loop uselessly. They go nowhere. They don’t provide any lasting comfort or stress relief. They don’t cause me to feel less distressed or emotional on the inside. They don’t resolve a single thing.
 
All these circling thoughts manage to do is put me in a consistently shitty-ass mood and make me more likely to keep retracing my mental steps as the day continues.
 
Besides, you know, at that point my head decided that it’s a better idea to be making sure that I’m never fully present or engaging in the world at large. There are more important issues at large; I’m too busy dragging my brain through concentric shit circles on the floor like a Roomba who isn’t equipped to erase the memory of that accidental diarrhea on the carpet.
 
The sentiments jump from one to another, overlapping and crisscrossing in abstract forms, but I never sweep up all the debris, finish the job, and move on to the next room. Like the official (gross) definition of rumination, my persistent thoughts don’t ever get fully digested.
 
The sentiments jump from one to another, overlapping and crisscrossing in abstract forms, but I never sweep up all the debris, finish the job, and move on to the next room. Like the official (gross) definition of rumination, my persistent thoughts don’t ever get fully digested.
Let’s think about why that would happen, in Trauma terms.
 
The rumination-trauma brain connection
 
So, if you’ve been tuning in to my rambles for more than ten minutes, you know what Trauma is by now. The incorrect processing and storage of disturbing memory events in your brain. Information doesn’t fit with the old narrative, so let’s just tuck that away in a secret corner for later. It’s a way to keep that baffling data safely tucked away so you can deal with life at large. Sounds useful!
 
The problem being, the thought is never fully integrated with the rest of your day to day life or perception of the world. Instead, you get one erroneous piece of information just floating around on its own; not anchored to your personal outlook or historical narrative, not conveniently tied to other important data sets that form a complete picture of what you’re studying, and not stitched up into your memory quilt.
 
Because these thoughts are “homeless,” essentially, your brain can’t let them go. It can’t figure out how to process them or integrate them into the correct file, so it keeps setting them in the compartment of your brain that’s responsible for persisting problems.
 
This is where your head wisely puts old thoughts that you need to come back to for further attention. Chunks of information that need more work before they can be resolved. Unsolved mysteries. And in this concealed, but shallow brain compartment, these memories are pinged on a regular basis, never fully exiting your awareness as your brain continues to try to figure out what the fuck it’s supposed to do with this detail. It’s waiting for new clues to pop up and help solve the unknown.
 
Because these thoughts are “homeless,” essentially, your brain can’t let them go. It can’t figure out how to process them or integrate them into the correct file, so it keeps setting them in the compartment of your brain that’s responsible for persisting problems. This is where it puts old thoughts that you need to come back to for further attention. Chunks of information that need more work before they can be resolved. And these memories are pinged on a regular basis, never fully exiting your awareness, as your brain continues to try to figure out what the fuck it’s supposed to do with this detail.
 
Meanwhile, the system is overloaded. Your brain can’t stop considering small bits of data, which take the focus away from all the new – perhaps more life-pertinent – events taking place around you. Soon, everything is backed up in that “temporary storage” location. It’s all one confusing mix of old and new data. You can’t make heads or tails of it.
 
Altogether, this is why we get trapped into trauma states with unwanted flashbacks, hallucinations, and emotional upset. This is why we experience increasing mental illness symptoms and physical manifestations. This is how our brains start to feel very disorganized and out of control. This is why a lot of trauma sufferers talk about their attentional deficits and inability to fully engage with their lives.
 
We keep running the same program, over and over and over again… but the operating system honestly can’t figure out how the installation is supposed to be completed successfully. It keeps the problem at the forefront of your mind so that you’ll spot the solution when it presents.
 
In the meantime, your brain keeps trying to mesh the old way of doing things with this new bit of coding – but, nope – the two are deemed incompatible and set aside for tomorrow. Or later this afternoon. Or five seconds from now. Just keep trying, so we can clear this from the task manager.
 
In the meantime, your brain keeps trying to mesh the old way of doing things with this new bit of coding – but, nope – the two are deemed incompatible and set aside for tomorrow. Or later this afternoon. Or five seconds from now. Just keep trying, so we can clear this from the task manager.
 
Hey, that sounds an awful lot like rumination, itself, to me. Anyone else?
 
If you ask me, I’m now realizing that rumination is an experience that’s nearly identical to the neurological basis of trauma… and that makes me wonder if the underlying process is the same, as well.
 
Hey, I’m not the only one.
 
The research – physiology crossover
 
Part of the aforementioned review article on rumination was focused on one of the big questions that helps me to feel better about my weird brain – why is the think-organ doing this? Moulds, et al. set out to find the answer in their literature review, “Rumination in posttraumatic stress disorder: A systematic review.”
 
Specifically, they aimed to determine three questions. Are the same regions of the brain that are indicated in prolonged PTSD symptoms also lighting up during bouts of rumination? Do they share similar neurobiological pathways? And therefore, is treating one effective in treating the other?
 
Well, it turns out that… yeah. The same regions of the brain are implicated in our depression, trauma, and rumination experiences. The orbitofrontal cortex, or OFC, has been shown to have increased activity levels under all three conditions. There’s reason to think that this is the center of our upsetting, mentally disordered experiences. And, guess what, the OFC is known to be a poorly understood region of our logical human brains – why the fuck wouldn’t it be.
 
Well, it turns out that… yeah. The same regions of the brain are implicated in our depression, trauma, and rumination experiences. The orbitofrontal cortex, or OFC, has been shown to have increased activity levels under all three conditions. There’s reason to think that this is the center of our upsetting, mentally disordered experiences. And, guess what, the OFC known to be a poorly understood region of our logical human brains – why the fuck wouldn’t it be.
 
What we DO know is that this region sits just behind our eyes, where I get all my debilitating migraines. And, we recognize that it has extensive connections with the limbic system, where our emotions and memory processing activities take place. The prefrontal cortex, in general, is implicated in decision making, impulse control, and our “personalities.” It’s our logical human brain if you think the species is so gifted.
 
So, putting it all together, it’s no big surprise that this mysterious potential trauma-and-rumination-fuckery-factory straddles the areas between our perceptions, our emotions, and our higher-level thinking. That sounds like post-traumatic stress disorder to me. We can attribute a lot of our issues to the limbic system regularly failing to translate how the present connects to the past and our emotions fit into the larger scheme. Pretty sure our memory and executive functioning is not getting a glowing quarterly review when it comes to working properly in the context of PTSD.
 
Hey, if you want to talk about the emotional cognition connection again… this OFC region is also thought to be a part of our ability to pay attention to our emotions and think about our emotions. We can have emotions without using the OFC to sort them out, but this is what creates a lot of baffling and seemingly baseless negative affect. Go back to that emotional cognition post (t-mfrs.com) for more.
 
In short, this connection between the limbic system and OFC really is a piece of our neurological puzzle that needs to be better understood, so our disorders can be.
 
But at this point, researchers and I can tell you that the limbic system has more electrochemical activity during periods of depression, rumination, and post-traumatic responding, so it’s implicated in all three. If you’ve ever wondered why these conditions tend to go hand in hand in hand… well, the same idiot intern is mishandling your stimulation and memory tasks, and royally screwing everything his department comes into contact with as a downstream effect.
 
That’s sort of enlightening and comforting, right? Our entire brains aren’t fucked. Even though it feels like we’re messed up in so many ways, it seems like it’s mostly just this one brain region where information input from various other compartments is failing to be processed in the right way.
 
But at this point, all I can tell you is that the area has more electrochemical activity during periods of depression, rumination, and post-traumatic responding, so it’s implicated in all three. That’s sort of enlightening and comforting, right? Our entire brains aren’t fucked – it seems like it’s mostly just this region where information input from various other compartments is failing to be handled in the right way.
 
That almost makes me feel better, except for all the shitty thoughts spiraling in my head, the depressive exhaustion, and the upsetting trauma responses. One step at a time, I suppose.
 
Next, I want to talk about a causative question: which comes first, the rumination or the mental distress?
 
The research – what causes what?
 
Mould and associates also tried to parse out the semi-important distinction between causation and correlation.
 
I think we can all agree, having intrusive, persistently negative thoughts and feeling intrusive, persistently negative are both shitty and painful experiences – so… does it really matter which enters the picture first? When we’re talking about human suffering, uh, who cares what causes what?
 
Well, it might surprise you into caring when you find out the answer.
 
At least one study showed something that shocked the hell out of me. Ruminatory thinking is correlated to the later development of PTSD symptoms. As in, subjects who historically experienced obsessively negative thought patterns were more likely to develop long-term PTSD symptoms following a traumatic event.
 
At least one study showed something that shocked the hell out of me. Ruminatory thinking is correlated to the later development of PTSD symptoms. As in, subjects who historically experienced obsessively negative thought patterns were more likely to develop long-term PTSD symptoms following a traumatic event.
 
Uh, hold up, that’s really not what I thought the answer was going to be. How about you?
 
This research study is potentially indicating that having a bad habit of wallowing in partially-formed, distracting, self-blaming, historically-focused thoughts… might create post-traumatic stress disorder? Not the other way around? Mind blown. But it makes sense when you piece together some other bits of data.
 
Specifically, I thought it was notable that one of the most dangerous parts of rumination following a traumatic event was the likelihood of the subject persistently considering how they caused the event to take place.
 
Because we’re obsessed with making sense of our world and especially astute at putting ourselves in the center of the whole clusterfuck, we easily put blame on ourselves. Individuals who later developed PTSD were more likely to have felt stuck considering what they could have done differently to prevent it. They obsessed over how they acted the wrong way at the moment. They ruminate over the traumatic event in an attempt to process and better understand the occurrence, but all they really accomplish is putting themselves back in the traumatic circumstances… with a dangerous side of self-blame.
 
Hey, does that sound like anyone you know? It sure fucking sounds like the way my head works. Even people and events that emotionally destroy me can easily be relieved of any responsibility for my pain after I’ve somehow twisted myself into the villain of the story. It’s always my fault, somehow, according to my brain.
 
I think you can agree, not only are we likely to replay negative memories on repeat, trying to make sense of this event that torments you, but we’re also going to replay all the mistakes you made along the way to bring this misery on yourself. There has to be a reason for everything that happened, so let’s figure out how you’re the reason. At least then it makes some sense, even if it comes with a side of shame. And that’s powerful for our rationale-obsessed brains.
 
Not only are we going to replay these thoughts on repeat, trying to make sense of this random memory that torments you, but we’re also going to replay all the mistakes you made along the way to bring this misery on yourself. There has to be a reason for everything that happened, so let’s figure out how you’re the reason. At least then it makes some sense, even if it comes with a side of shame.
 
Yep, that sounds exactly right. I think it’s so important that I’m going to say this again.
 
Our own negative self-regard can cause, deepen, and perpetuate our own mental illness. We are so desperate to have reasons for what has happened that we turn to the best scapegoat we know – ourselves. In our early lives, we were convinced that everything was our fault due to our looking-glass self and evolutionarily programmed love for self-evaluative processes in social situations. As we get older, we’re only more skilled at following the same template. “How is it my fault? What did I do wrong now? If only I had X instead of Y.”
 
This 180-degree finger-pointing has the later effect of creating more mental disturbances as we piss all over ourselves and trace those far-too-familiar shame pathways. When we shame ourselves, we shut down. When we find a reason to hate ourselves, we drum up our helplessness and hopelessness. We decrease our ability to socialize or take on new tasks. As a result, we have even more to ruminate over.
 
Again, I have to mention that rumination, depression, and trauma all emerge from heightened activity in one portion of the brain – so the more energy we send to that area, the more mental illness we’re going to receive.
 
And this brings me to the last thing that I want to talk about in this rumination talk. The interplay between our inner critics, our expectations, and our nonstop shit thoughts. Something that underpins ALL of my rumination memories that I’ve ever had… and something that I never noticed before these past few weeks.
 
My thoughts – where Exp. versus Act. go so wrong
 
I’ve realized something about the basis of my ruminations, well, way too recently, to be honest. And I think it’s pretty powerful. I hope you agree.
 
So, I’ll admit, I’ve been in a bit of a depressive thought spiral for a day or thirty. My head is tossing around several difficult topics at once, but there is a common feature of them all. The underlying topic of my undesirable, unshakeable ideations? I actually took an analytical step back from my brain debacles and realized…
 
They’re all about expectations versus actual events. I mean, they are ALL about expectation versus actual.
 
I’m realizing that the thought pattern creating my circling thoughts is basically… “but wait, I thought this was going down one way and now I’m getting something totally different” in various forms. With various data points used as evidence. And various emotional responses. But ultimately, always coming back to the shocking difference between what I thought was happening and what’s now actually happening.
 
I’m realizing that the thought pattern creating my circling thoughts is basically… “but wait, I thought this was going down one way and now I’m getting something totally different” in various forms. With various data points used as evidence. And various emotional responses. But ultimately, always coming back to the shocking difference between what I thought was happening and what’s now actually happening.
 
My head was going in one direction, life circumstances changed their projected pathways too rapidly for me to readjust accordingly, and now my brain is stranded alone in the middle of a tundra.
 
Trailing along with my inner whisperings of “hold up, what happened here,” there are feelings of frustration, there’s disbelief, there’s angry resentment, there’s indignance… and they all have the same basic cause.
 
What I was told, versus what I’m actually getting. What I wanted, versus what I’m actually getting. What I would do for someone, versus what I’m actually getting. What I put out there, and therefore expected to get back, versus what I’m actually getting. What I was planning on, based on historical information, versus what I’m actually getting.
 
It’s all the same pattern. Just directed towards social contacts, world events, and unpredictable change in my life.
 
Thinking back on allllll my years of ruminatory experience – all the times I endlessly tortured myself in a state of isolation, angst, and despair, generally feeling helpless and captive with my life circumstances and my thoughts, alike – I think this has always been the case. There’s been a massive difference between what I reasonably think should take place and what very abruptly goes down, defying all logic and leaving no easy path to change the situation or move forward.
 
Thinking back on allllll my years of ruminatory experience – all the times I endlessly tortured myself in a state of isolation, angst, and despair, generally feeling helpless and captive with my life circumstances and my thoughts, alike – I think this has always been the case. There’s been a massive difference between what I reasonably think should take place and what very abruptly goes down, usually defying all logic and leaving no easy path to change the situation or move forward.
 
The times’ relationships came to an end without any warning. The times my career or schooling was headed towards one outcome before everything was shaken up and left me whiplashed. The times a tightly knit loved one turned their back on me when I needed them the most. The times my most prized possessions were ripped out of my hands with no hope for getting them back. The times a coworker I trusted threw me under the bus without any basis in reality… and everyone believed their blame games. The times’ people who were supposed to love me actually created the deepest cutting pain without a second thought.
 
These have been the experiences that inject a tiny worm into my brain that just can’t seem to be gestated into a free-flying butterfly… and so they crawl around, spinning webby cocoons in my brain for the foreseeable future. Never finding a suitable home. Never transforming into a lofty new creature with time, space, and attention. Instead, they’re just wiggling around, spinning silk in my brain as my thoughts, emotions, and focus gets strung together in tangled messes that obstruct my view of the real world.
 
With these cognitions come the downstream emotions – that means my sadness, anger, anxiety, fear, and stress responses. But I think these feelings come in two batches. First, there are the historical emotions over what has already happened. Then, emerges an almost secondary wave of brain processing – when my head starts trying to predict what’s going to happen in the future based on this new clusterfuck that happened in the past and reacts pre-emptively.
 
Imagining that things are going to be tumultuous, unstable, and helpless in the future because of what has just taken place is what throws me into my next stage of distress. The forward-thinking intrusive thought process of worrying, catastrophizing and abandoning myself. Some might call this anxiety born of depression born of rumination. Delightful.
 
What makes things difficult to understand, and therefore causes more rumination, is the way that these new forward-thinking scaredy-cat feelings flow together with the original quake. It’s dizzying. It’s a back and forth conversation taking place between historical disappointment and “what does that mean about my future” fears.
 
What makes things difficult to understand, and therefore causes more rumination, is the way that these new forward-thinking scaredy-cat feelings flow together with the original quake. It’s dizzying. It’s a back and forth conversation taking place between historical disappointment and “what does that mean about my future” fears.
 
But if I can break down these feelings – and yeah, that means I spent a lot of time sitting around, soaking in them, and trying to analyze what was going on without freaking out – the baseline experience that accompanies my rumination is my unfulfilled expectations. I can’t get over how simple the reasoning is. You were counting on one thing happening, it did not, and your brain isn’t flexible enough to do the gymnastics necessary to change direction mid-air.
 
Is that insightful? It is for me. Not only does my brain get stuck on a VERY one-track tune fairly often, but at least this explains what I’m getting hung up on to give me some emotional distance from the brain malfunction.
 
But, it also helps, because guess what?
 
This is, again, essentially the same mechanism as trauma! Having one view of circumstances, people, or ways of the world… and rapidly finding out that those ideas can be blown apart in physical reality faster than the speed of brain processing.
 
This is, again, essentially the same mechanism as trauma! Having one view of circumstances, people, or ways of the world… and rapidly finding out that those ideas can be blown apart in physical reality.
 
Boom, brain malfunctions. Can’t handle this event. Try to set it aside and figure things out in the background later. But, when answers to the unfathomable discrepancies in desired versus actual outcome never seem to come, we get stuck.
 
Something just doesn’t mesh with everything you previously believed to be true. Since a way to proceed with any predictive, productive outcome to create a cohesive picture never arrives… Instead, your brain just keeps doodling tiny segments of the image, with increasingly attention-demanding lines and emotional upset.
Based on my understanding, it’s exactly like the mechanisms of trauma. Experiencing the unexpected, fragmented information causing confusion, seeking a higher clarity, never finding one, getting trapped in an individual labyrinth, cycling endlessly through those brain circuits, hoping that some new realization will rise to the surface. Meanwhile, degrading yourself and diving deeper into mental distress as your daily brain faculties become entangled and inefficient. It’s all the same.
 
Rumination, depression, and trauma are all causative and affected by the same desire to logically understand our worlds – past, present, and future. Just think about that (but not too long or hard).
 
So let’s wrap it
 
Maybe it’s my short attention span today because I’m distracted by shitty caterpillars in my head… maybe I’ve made enough of a point for my brain to lay this thought to rest. Either way, I’m wrapping this up and calling it a day on this job.
 
My point in all of this, as usual, has been to let you know that you’re not alone if you feel like your own brain strives to drive you completely insane sometimes. If you’ve felt like your rumination not only perpetuated your shitty moods and negative view of the world but maybe somehow caused it. Or if you’ve ever wondered why, exactly, your trauma and rumination responses are so intricately linked to your emotions and memories in eerily similar ways. Maybe so much so that you haven’t even been able to separate them before.
 
My point in all of this, as usual, has been to let you know that you’re not alone if you feel like your own brain strives to drive you completely insane sometimes. If you’ve felt like your rumination not only perpetuated your shitty moods and negative view of the world, but maybe somehow caused it. Or if you’ve ever wondered why, exactly, your trauma and rumination responses are so intricately linked to your emotions and memories in eerily similar ways.
 
Trauma Friends, know that you’re not making this connection up. You’re not the only one who feels they can’t escape their own thoughts. You’re not the only one who goes to bed at night with a circus of fucked up, fractionalized thoughts swirling in your head… and wakes up to the same asshole clowns cartwheeling around when you open your eyes the next morning. You’re not the only human who wonders what comes first – the response to the negative experience, or the response to the response to the negative experience?
 
If you find yourself in a depressed or highly reactive state, laying around or manically running around, doing everything you possibly can to distract yourself from the one thing you can’t actually avoid in this world – your own stupid brain…. I feel you.
 
Know that it’s your Limbic System and Orbitofrontal Cortex doing a shit job working together and integrating new information with the old way of doing things. Recognize that your emotional center is getting pulled into the cluster to drum up your anger, fear, and anxiety. Trust that your inability to create a satisfying new view of the world (so the repetitive voices in your head can shut the hell up already) is a failure of your brain to reasonably piece together logical perspectives looking backward, even further backward… and ultimately panicking about the view looking forwards.
 
Maybe it’s not possible to exactly take comfort in the similarities between trauma and intrusive thoughts, but knowing that they perpetuate each other and pull depression into the game, too, might help to explain the indescribably miserable experience that you’ve endured. Realizing that they all emerge from the poor partnership of your lizard brain and human brain might also help you let yourself off the hook a bit.
 
Maybe it’s not possible to take comfort in the similarities between trauma and intrusive thoughts, but knowing that they perpetuate each other and pull depression into the game, too, might help to explain the indescribably miserable experience that you’ve endured. Realizing that they all emerge from the same area of your brain that constitutes “personality” might also help you let yourself off the hook a bit.
 
Plus, if you can take a step back to decipher what exactly you were expecting versus what you actually received… you can create a new narrative that does mesh the information together in a cohesive account of past events. It helps settle the issue so you can move on. And it could provide relief from all those future premonitions of doom.
 
Just don’t let yourself get bitter or victimize-y about the event. Take it for what it is, from an objective view, as if your friend was witnessing your life. Let yourself be mad, sad, or disappointed by the discrepancy in what you deserved versus what you received. After that, try to accept it and move on. It won’t be easy, but if you can replace your self-shit-talking thoughts with the newly penned story on repeat, your head will eventually start to believe and accept the new information streaming in.
 
In summary. Remember, if you’re stuck in a ruminatory fugue… This isn’t you. These thoughts aren’t you. They can’t even be patched into your psyche without shit short-circuiting. These experiences are too impactful for your brain to reckon with them.
 
Believe your reasonable brain is just trying to keep you moving forward with data-based information that might include a painful analysis of your deep disappointments. But your angry, outraged feelings about expectations that have been dashed… don’t have to skew your entire perspective into a terrorizing ride when you’re looking into the future.
 
Just notice what’s going on and try to name it. Give it a reason. Give yourself credit.
 
You have power. You have insight. You have the ability to release your thoughts.
 
Trust that there’s no reasonable answer to unreasonable circumstances… and your insistence on finding logical clarity and meaning might actually be perpetuating how horrible you feel. You just might have to ruminate on the new narrative a bit before your brain will let it go.
 

Moulds M.L., Bisby M.A., Wild J., Bryant R.A, (2020) Rumination in posttraumatic stress disorder: A systematic review. Clinical Psychology Review.

 

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]]> https://cptsdfoundation.org/2021/02/19/shared-mechanisms-of-rumination-depression-and-cptsd/feed/ 13 Death of an Abusive Parent https://cptsdfoundation.org/2021/01/15/death-of-an-abusive-parent/ https://cptsdfoundation.org/2021/01/15/death-of-an-abusive-parent/#comments Fri, 15 Jan 2021 11:00:09 +0000 https://cptsdfoundation.org/?p=234800

Let’s talk about this untimely death situation.

 
Well. This is a big topic that I’m not sure how to tackle, per se. Death is a new one to me. I’ve been relatively lucky that way. The death of the person who passed down most of our family trauma… that’s an even trickier situation to tackle, probably for anyone, I would guess.
 
So, make no mistake – yes, I am talking about the father who I’ve been estranged from for about 20 years. Yes, you’ve probably heard mention of him before. Yes, that probably seems like it should be a quick shrug and move on sort of situation, all things considered from the outside. But, as usual, this trauma journey is more complex than that.
 
So, make no mistake – yes, I am talking about the father who I’ve been estranged from for about 20 years. Yes, you’ve heard mention of him before. Yes, that probably seems like it should be a quick shrug and move on sort of situation, all things considered from the outside. But, as usual, this trauma journey is more complex than that.
 
Truthbetold, I’m going through a whole host of emotions over here. There is no one-sided experience to report on. It’s a rollercoaster, of deep feels, moments of clarity, regrets, depression, gratitude, spirituality, sadness, exhaustion, anger, self-hate, and catharsis. All rolled into an undulating, fluctuating, mass of energy that rises and falls inside of my head and chest depending on the second. Each day is different than the last, each hour, each minute. They all hold some new experience, recently revealed thought, or just an unbridled sense of dread.
 
Then… throw in the family drama. Trying to figure everything out with my two oldest brothers, who are incrementally sad, upset, and angry, just like I described, myself. But, you know, probably times 100 plus with an enormous sense of daily disruption and loss, since they actually had relatively close relationships with my dad. Emotionally, it’s a huge mess for them. And yes, they are internalizing as much of the event as possible. Also, maybe losing their goddamn minds. But I’ll mention more about that at a later date.
 
To make things extra fun, don’t forget, there are enormous legal issues on our shoulders as next of kin to a man with no known will. The practical property matters we have to resolve. The delipidated houses we have to clean out, rehabilitate, and sell. The personal effects that need to be divided or donated. The dizzying credit lines, back taxes, and bank accounts need to be sorted, so we can understand what we’re liable for as his heirs. The eight billion junk-vehicles that need to be sold for peanuts or scrapped. The arsenal of weapons that need to be re-registered and disposed of. Oh, and recall that this is all spread across two states – states that I don’t exactly live in, don’t know the estate laws in, and definitely don’t want to be spending the Midwest winter in.
 
But here we fucking are, Fuckers. Fuckery, fuck, shit, fuck.
 
And you know what? Besides my decreasingly creative swearing capabilities, I’m noticing a lot of things that relate to this trauma journey… beyond, you know, reckoning with the fact that we’re talking about the passing of my most potent source of complex trauma.
 
So, let’s talk about coming to terms with generational trauma, being the familial black sheep, suffering with inner critic brutality, and having a newly terrifying outlook for the future in the fortune-telling remains of this untimely loss. It’s hopefully not as whiny as we both fear.
 
Generational trauma
 
You know what really kicks me right in the fucking gut about all of this? Yes, it’s the fact that I honestly expected to talk to my dad someday in the future. Yes, it’s seeing my family crumble with grief and guilt. Yes, it’s worrying about my brothers and their respective addictions in bad times.
 
But it’s also realizing that my dad was a real Motherfucker. And, for once, I’m not saying that he was a terrifying figure who had a reputation for taking shit from no one. This time, I mean, he was one of us. He was a Traumatized Motherfucker.
 
But it’s also realizing that my dad was a real Motherfucker. And, for once, I’m not saying that he was a terrifying figure who had a reputation for taking shit from no one. This time, I mean, he was one of us. He was a Traumatized Motherfucker.
 
I know, I always knew it. I’ve mentioned it before. It’s obvious that trauma begets trauma. And yeah, for the past few years I have considered what my dad went through growing up and how that shaped who he became. How the terrifying events I witnessed were symptomatic of PTSD throughout life. How his socialization obviously impacted his personality. How it wasn’t really up to him that he had a temper, chronic depression, and terrible relationships in life.
 
But it really drives the point home when you start going through his belongings and finding worksheets from a recent therapy venture that detail things like “learning to name emotions,” “what are triggers,” and “how to understand boundaries.”
 
I mean. The man, my father, actually started regularly seeing a therapist in the past few years and taking it seriously. Beyond that, he was clearly learning about all the things that I’ve also been learning about – all the things that I talk about on this multi-media forum. Feelings, finding confidence, understanding other people, and ourselves. To a tee, we were going through the same educational process. Just… thirty years of life experience apart.
 
I mean. The man, my father, actually started regularly seeing a therapist in the past few years and taking it seriously. Beyond that, he was clearly learning about all the things that I’ve also been learning about – all the things that I talk about on this multi-media forum. Feelings, finding confidence, understanding other people and ourselves. To a tee, we were going through the same educational process. Just… thirty years of life experience apart.
 
He didn’t start to learn about himself until he was about 60 years old. That’s when he finally started making changes and understanding how to approach life, love, and emotions. In the meantime, he was a wrecking ball of unfettered brain dysfunction and unreckoned memories. And, you know, with the knowledge I have, I can’t really blame him for those actions during the decades that he had no idea why his brain was such a fucking disaster.
 
Is it his fault that he didn’t have the answers to his mental disruptions? Sure, he could have gotten psychological help sooner, I guess. But I think we all know there is a massive chasm between the generations and genders when it comes to exploring our inner turmoil.
 
My content consumers, for example, are about 75% female. The men who do reach out? They’re generally between 50 and 60 years old. There is a clear pattern here when it comes to learning about trauma between the sexes. There’s a massive delay, if not an outright devaluation, in getting mental health answers for men. Is it a diagnostic issue or a seeking help issue? I have no idea. But my dad falls squarely into the demographic statistics that I already have floating around in my head from this podcasting experiment. Can’t blame the guy for being in the same boat as so many others.
 
Even more enlightening and heartbreaking than seeing all his therapy worksheets scattered throughout medical paperwork and journals is the notes that are intermittently dispersed through his recordings of daily life and illicit activities. Things like, “I’m so tired of fighting” penned at the bottom of a planner page really, uh, fuck me up, for lack of a better term.
 
Even more enlightening and heartbreaking than seeing all his therapy worksheets scattered throughout medical paperwork and journals is the notes that are intermittently dispersed through his recordings of daily life and illicit activities. Things like, “I’m so tired of fighting” penned at the bottom of a planner page really, uh, fuck me up, for lack of a better term.
 
Do you know how many times I’ve said that? Verbatim? How many times have I broken down crying in frustration, exhaustion, and forfeit and said the same fucking thing – to myself or others? I have no idea, either, but let’s estimate that it’s a minimum of several times a year, if not several times a month or a week, when things are really going south.
 
Seeing my own words written by the same person who terrified me for my entire life? Yeah, it messes me and my “git fucked” perspective up. It makes me think so hard about what he went through. The early life experiences with my equally-traumatized grandfather. The rough upbringing with few financial resources. The ways his young experiences shaped him into a hardened roughrider as a defense mechanism against the world. The misfortune that befell him from birth until death.
 
It’s just the same old pattern on repeat. Handed down from his father and his father’s father to my father and trickling through all three of his kids. It’s generational trauma. It’s early life abuse. It’s the cyclical clusterfuck of poor socialization leading to mental dysfunction leading to life destruction that extends to the next souls brought into the mix.
 
It’s just the same old pattern on repeat. Handed down from his father and his father’s father to my father and trickling through all three of his kids. It’s generational trauma. It’s early life abuse. It’s the cyclical clusterfuck of poor socialization leading to mental dysfunction leading to life destruction that extends to the next souls brought into the mix.
 
It’s what I know, educationally and personally. It’s what I’ve seen play out in my own life. It’s now what I’ve seen sprawled across random journals, scraps of papers, receipts, and calendars, straight from my father’s hand as if he’s writing to my trauma interests, personally.
 
And as you can imagine, I’m having a rough time with it. Bottom-up and top-down.
 

Inner critic

Hey, what happens when I start to empathize with someone? You know I also start to beat the shit out of myself for every imagined way I could have contributed to the problem or could have helped change the circumstances. It’s my way of life with every friend, romantic partner, and downtrodden stranger off the street. Even with the man who showed me how to fear, of course, things are no different.
 
Finding his sentiments about disorganized thoughts, insomnia, and clinical depression… yeah, it’s not easy. Learning that he was just starting to understand his emotions and how to deal with them hits me right in the gut. Finding notes to his family about his love, confusion, and regret in the context of an unraveling brain and addictive tendencies is a blow to my brain.
 
It shows me what was really going on under the surface that presented in such volatile ways. It makes me understand him to a degree that I never could in life. It makes me feel like an asshole.
 
It shows me what was really going on under the surface that presented in such volatile ways. It makes me understand him to a degree that I never could in life. It makes me feel like an asshole.
 
I mean, isn’t this the exact sort of person I’m trying to help? Isn’t the point of this project to let people know that even though they feel horrible, confused, and overwhelmed most of the time, they aren’t broken, they aren’t doomed, and they don’t have to go it alone? Isn’t this the same way I would describe myself?
 
Yep.
 
So, it looks like I can reach people all the way across the world. I can get my message across and connect through the internet and airwaves to strangers on the other side of the planet. But I could never reach my own father in the same way, not even when we were one state away. And before you get all gushy on me – no, it’s not because he didn’t try.
 
He occasionally reached out to me over the years. But because I wasn’t willing to open my heart, to expose myself to the potential difficulties that inherently followed my dad, and to put myself on the line after an early life that left several scars. I wasn’t ready yet. I thought I had more time. I believed that I could make the decision later. When I was more stable or more forgiving or more settled with a secure support system or… something.
 
The truth is, I just wasn’t brave enough. I was stubborn. I was still carrying resentment. And I missed my chance. I’ll never know my dad. And even worse, he never got to know me, his only daughter.
 
The truth is, I just wasn’t brave enough. I was stubborn. I was still carrying resentment. And I missed my chance. I’ll never know my dad. And even worse, he never got to know me, his only daughter.
 
We had so much in common, it turns out. Everything from our shared mental health struggles to a love for all things nature. A penchant for collecting rocks, feathers, and bones. A morbid curiosity in things that frighten others. Love for the ocean and everything in it. Fascination with the causes of our inner workings. A preference for being surrounded by beautiful views and solitude. A constant desire to be out in the woods, appreciating trees, stones, and moss. Adoration of being reckless, driving fast, and gambling with death. A tendency to write about our plans, actions, and feelings with data-collecting detail. A sense of lifelong independence and quick-trigger “fuck off” reaction to others… that rapidly turns to debilitating loneliness.
 
I had no idea. I didn’t know my dad that well in life. I didn’t know we were such similar beings. Not until we were cleaning out all his things and the evidence was slapping me right in the face.
 
And boy howdy, do I have a lot of reckoning and regret to contend with.
 
I’m doing my best not to let my inner critic slam me to the ground. I know things were much more complicated than me just “choosing” not to have my dad in my life. I realize that even if we had reconnected, there would have undoubtedly been a great deal of conflict between us due to mutual triggers and differing opinions. (The dude was flying a Trump flag, for fuck’s sake.) There’s no doubt, I would remind him of my mom and he would… well… remind me of the man who terrified me growing up and all the people I can’t understand in my adult years.
 
I’m doing my best not to let my inner critic slam me to the ground. I know things were much more complicated than me just “choosing” not to have my dad in my life. I realize that even if we had reconnected, there would have undoubtedly been a great deal of conflict between us due to mutual triggers and differing opinions. (The dude was flying a Trump flag, for fuck’s sake.) There’s no doubt, I would remind him of my mom and he would… well… remind me of the man who terrified me growing up and all the people I can’t understand in my adult years.
But at the same time, I wish I would have given it a try. I really, really wish I could go back and do things differently. I don’t know if it would have been successful or not. But I have no doubt, he wouldn’t have been on that road, at that time, to hit that deer, had one single thing in his life been different. I also know he would have lived a less tortured, angry, and depressed life had his daughter ever returned a word to him. And that’s shit I’m going to have to live with for the rest of my life. Ironically, I’m sure it will come with enormous torture, anger, and depression. And there’s no hope of hearing back from the other party to change that.
 
So, fuck me. I’m supposed to be enlightened, empathetic, and caring for all trauma sufferers. That’s my goal in all of this trauma talk. And meanwhile, I never was able to be there for my dad. Not even in the smallest ways. Not even sending a fucking card for his birthday, accepting his friend request on Facebook, or acknowledging the weird dollar store gifts he would send from time to time.
 
I was shitty. I’ve been playing the victim my whole life. And all the while, I was just shoving another nail into the coffin of my father’s similarly tormented existence.
 
I know I’m being hard on myself and internalizing all of this as though my 12-year-old self was capable of reading tea leaves. It wasn’t intentional. It’s certainly not what I wanted. But I didn’t do anything I wish I would have now.
 
I know I’m being hard on myself and internalizing all of this as though my 12 year old self was capable of reading tea leaves. It wasn’t intentional. It’s certainly not what I wanted. But I didn’t do anything I wish I would have now.
 
I’m ashamed of myself. I feel like a failure and a phony. I feel like I’m fucking rotting from the inside out. I’m not the human I wish I was – or, I wish I had been. And as you can imagine, the people around me are aware of it, too. No, it’s not making things easy around the family home.
 
Black sheep
 
So… like I briefly mentioned, I’m the only kid who didn’t have a relationship with my dad. Even growing up, my big brothers spent a lot of time with him.
 
During and after my parents’ separation, they went to visitation while I got a court amendment to avoid it. I couldn’t stand his constant yelling, ranting about my mom, and endangering behaviors during his morphine popping decade. I had also seen a lot more of the household dynamics that left me fearing my own father before he was taken out of the house with legal force. I wasn’t really excited about spending time with that human as a pre-teenaged girl who barely knew the man.
 
During and after my parents’ separation, they went to visitation while I got a court amendment to avoid it. I couldn’t stand his constant yelling, ranting about my mom, and endangering behaviors during his morphine popping decade. I had also seen a lot more of the household dynamics that left me fearing my own father before he was taken out of the house with legal force. I wasn’t really excited about spending time with that human as a pre-teenaged girl who barely knew the man.
 
They, like good sons, powered through visitation together. Whether it was terrifying, violent, or just boring… they went. They devoted weekends to him. They made trips to his home in Addison or Wisconsin. They went to sports games and bars. They shot guns into the forest. They saw fireworks at Navy Pier. When they lived in distant places, they endured hours’ long phone calls and guilt trips.
 
And I… didn’t. I didn’t do any of it. I cut and run while they continued to pursue a relationship that had many drastic downs and relatively few ups. They’re the first to admit now, it wasn’t ever easy. But they kept things alive, nevertheless. And I never did.
 
Yep, it is causing drama between us.
 
In the aftermath of this disaster situation, which has really just begun, there’s a clear delineation between my brothers and I. I’m here, sticking around Illinois indefinitely so I can help with the emotional, legal, and practical problems that are facing us all as his closest kin. It’s overwhelming, no one knows where to get started, and we have roughly a billion decisions to make together, beyond all the physical labor and paperwork. But truthfully, I don’t think anyone wants the assistance that I’m offering.
 
I can tell you, it’s partially because of the relationship I didn’t have with my dad. It’s also partially because of the same old family patterns that have defined my home life for as long as I can remember. Black sheep, anyone?
 
I can tell you, it’s partially because of the relationship I didn’t have with my dad. It’s also partially because of the same old family patterns that have defined my home life for as long as I can remember. Black sheep, anyone?
 
So far in this experience, I’ve been largely left out of the communications. I’m pushed aside when I ask how I can help with the tasks at hand. I’m encouraged to just head back to my other life every time I open my mouth and ask what needs to be done.
 
It’s rather isolating and hurtful, as you might guess. I feel stuck in purgatory. Wanting to be here for others, but being rejected. Meanwhile, dreaming of my return to hiking in Atlanta, where the weather doesn’t suck and nature can bring me mental peace. To some extent, I get it. I know that I’m not one of the dudes – I was never a part of their family trauma bonding or experiences together – but I am a part of the family. I’m a blood relative. I’m one of “us” through and through. And I’m beyond willing to be around for as long as necessary to make sure everyone and everything is taken care of.
 
But it seems like the old family dynamics are at play, nonetheless.
 
As most of us experience in our traumatized lives – I’ve been the black sheep of the family for a good part of my three decades on the planet. I don’t want to get too wallowy here, but trust me when I say that I’ve been the preferential bane of the family for a long time now. Too emotional, too focused on the past, too difficult, too sensitive, too pot-stirring, too reactive.
 
As most of us experience in our traumatized lives – I’ve been the black sheep of the family for a good part of my three decades on the planet. I don’t want to get too wallowy here, but trust me when I say that I’ve been the preferential bane of the family for a long time now. Too emotional, too focused on the past, too difficult, too sensitive, too pot-stirring, too reactive.
 
I’m not saying it isn’t true. I think I honestly relay the ways that my emotions get the best of me, I react quickly to my old interpersonal triggers, and I refuse to just put on a smiling face to talk about the weather when there are years of unresolved events dancing through my brain. I don’t respond well to being shushed or ignored. I hate when there are words clearly being withheld to sustain a false sense of support.
 
What can I say? I’m just not a fan of the surface-level relationships that everyone else subscribes to, the rejection of important feelings and events, or the way that I’m regarded as a wild idiot girl who has no merit to her words, experiences, or knowledge. It’s always been this way. I think it was relatively fine with me when I was much younger because I didn’t know any better. I was treated how I was treated – that was all I expected.
 
Obviously, the older I get and the more I feel I understand, about myself, the world, and others… well, the more enraging it becomes to be chided and written off.
 
Not to get a big, obnoxious ego about things, but I am the one who has experience in living in different places, learning about our family history, and connecting with others over the struggles of life. I’m educated, experienced in taking care of myself and others, and the most professionally accomplished member of the family – for whatever that’s worth.
 
At the bottom of it all, people outside this household generally consider me intelligent, wise, and insightful in the rest of the world. But in my family home – nah. I might as well be a toddler throwing macaroni on the floor while the “adults” deal with the “real-world problems.” When I speak up about any topic, it’s met with exasperated sighs, rolled eyes, and ridicule.
 
At the bottom of it all, people outside this household generally consider me intelligent, wise, and insightful in the rest of the world. But in my family home – nah. I might as well be a toddler throwing macaroni on the floor while the “adults” deal with the “real world problems.” When I speak up about any topic, it’s met with exasperated sighs, rolled eyes, and ridicule.
 
So, the old shit that always brings me down and brings my personal tension up is really throwing me for a loop in the midst of already feeling like my world is spinning. I’m not feeling like an included part of things. I’m on the outskirts of all the plans and arrangements unless someone passes third-hand information and clues me in. And meanwhile, I feel as though I’m being treated like the childhood old self that learned to just sit in the corner in silence because I would be ruthlessly mocked if I dared to open my mouth.
 
All the while, I get the sense that everyone is holding their tongue around me. And hey, it isn’t just trauma paranoia speaking. I’ve had the legitimacy confirmed by my mom in the past 24 hours. Turns out, no one knows how to deal with my unique blend of emotions and logic in this situation… and everyone is apparently afraid of making me angry. I’m told my family discusses their need to walk on eggshells around me because of my snappy mouth. Everyone knows I’m prone to overwhelm and sarcasm. And so they just keep their space and silence.
 
Great, so I’m the terror in the family. Not the ex-heroin addict, not the current alcoholic – it’s me. The bitch in the corner with the defensively sharp tongue.
 
Great, so I’m the terror in the family. Not the ex-heroin addict, not the current alcoholic – it’s me. The bitch in the corner with the defensively sharp tongue.
 
As if that’s not enough of a kick in the teeth, in and of itself… You know who else that sounds a lot like? My dad. It’s the same exact MO as the family instituted to deal with my father. Be civil, be patient, keep your words to yourself, and hopefully leave the firecracker unlit. Just say nothing, do nothing, and hopefully, you won’t set him off. The difference being, I can be pissy for 10 seconds and come right back down; he was set off for days once the ball got rolling.
 
This similarity, combined with the discoveries of our shared personality traits and interests, leaves me with another unique perspective to be gained from this experience.
 
Everything considered I’m pretty sure I can look into a crystal ball and see exactly how the rest of my time on this planet is going to play out. And it isn’t enviable, Fuckers.
 

And into the future

 
Remember how I mentioned earlier that I found notes from my dad about being “so tired of fighting?” How that really rung a bell in my own head as a commonly repeated truth of my life?
 
Yeah. Well, can we go ahead and extend that sentiment a few extra words to make some Off With Their Heads lyrics? “I’m so sick of fighting… with every single person that I know. I’m so sick of lying and burying myself in a hole. I just want to fill that tank up and drive
It’s the only thing that still makes me feel alive.”
 
Yes, we can. And that would also very accurately describe the experiences of my dad and I.
 
Both of us have clearly struggled with our familial, friend, and romantic relationships for our entire lives. Both of us considered them very important. Both of us just wanted to find a place to belong and be accepted. And hey, I’m guessing there’s a good chance that I never will locate what I’m looking for, just like he didn’t.
 
Both of us have clearly struggled with our familial, friend, and romantic relationships for our entire lives. Both of us considered them very important. Both of us just wanted to find a place to belong and be accepted. And hey, I’m guessing there’s a good chance that I never will locate what I’m looking for, just like he didn’t.
 
No, I don’t have the same drastic outbursts as my dad in his associations. I mean, the dude was known for threatening to kill people when he got riled up, and he had the conceal and carry license to follow through at any time. I’ve never had an order of protection against me. I’ve never been in a physical fight or found myself in court for any meaningful matters. When shit goes bad I beat myself up, not other humans. There are definitely some differences.
 
But at the same time, I also don’t understand how healthy relationships work. I desperately want to fit in with people. I care enormously about everyone I connect with. I can get obsessive, anxious, and insecure in the context of those I care about most. I’m tortured by the things I have and haven’t done in my relationships.
 
I lay awake at night feeling remorse. I slouch over my burning stomach many days feeling a lonely, aching void. I make friendships and partnerships that explode and disappear without warning. There is a constant revolving door of people coming in and out of my life, even when nothing happens to justify the entrance or the departure.
 
I go days without speaking to other humans. I incrementally hate and love our species. I crave attention, affection, and understanding… but also wonder if I’m not capable or worthy of finding any of them. I strongly fear being a negative force in the lives of others. I wonder if I’m better off just giving up trying. I sincerely think about forfeiting. I’m just so tired of fighting.
 
In short, I can understand how someone winds up living in the middle of the north woods of Wisconsin, in a cabin with no internet or phone service, living like a recluse for a majority of the time. It makes sense that under these circumstances, turning to seedy bars where equally troubled humans trade stories, drugs, and guns would be a likely course of action. I fully see how family relationships would be the only thing desired, but the shallow and unreliable nature of busier humans would leave one unfulfilled and more lonesome than ever. I relate to the ways someone can wind up with dozens of letters that remain unshared – words felt, written, but never communicated. We both had unsent letters prepared for each other, stashed away in defeat and dismissal.
 
In short, I can understand how someone winds up living in the middle of the northwoods of Wisconsin, in a cabin with no internet or phone service, living like a recluse for a majority of the time. It makes sense that under these circumstances, turning to seedy bars where equally troubled humans trade stories, drugs, and guns would be a likely course of action. I fully see how family relationships would be the only thing desired, but the shallow and unreliable nature of busier humans would leave one unfulfilled and more lonesome than ever. I relate to the ways someone can wind up with dozens of letters that remain unshared – words felt, written, but never communicated. We both had unsent letters prepared for each other, stashed away in defeat and dismissal.
 
So yeah. After this week, I clearly see myself in my dad. I see my dad in myself. And I see the ways I’ve been pushing my life, step by step, towards the same traumatized path that my father cut for himself.
 
Let me say, as much as the isolating beauty of tall pine trees, neverending lakes, and textured landscapes speaks to me… the personal struggle and strife of living a life undecorated by real human contact is not what I want.
 
Let me say, as much as the isolating beauty of tall pine trees, neverending lakes, and textured landscapes speaks to me… the personal struggle and strife of living a life undecorated by real human contact is not what I want.
 
As much as I despise humankind at times in my life. As much as I want to scream about my family’s inability to see me as a relevant human. As many times as I’ve been fucked over by flippant friends and partners. I don’t want to live a life where I can’t understand myself so wholly that I can’t understand other people. I don’t want to live like a loner rebel day after day after day.
 
I don’t want to reach out to anyone for 20 years, only to receive radio silence in return because the relationship was so marred by my unresolved mental strife and unexamined ways in the world.
 

Wrap it

Learning all of this information about my dad. Seeing how we aren’t so different after all. Dealing with the black sheeping dynamics of my mom and brothers… it sucks. It’s hard. It has made me want to throw in the towel of life, to be completely honest with you. I’ve been having some “I could just drive into that tree” ideations in the face of feeling rejected from my family unit. If they can’t understand me, whoever will?
 
But at the same time, it makes me all the more dedicated to figuring out this stupid fucking Complex PTSD disorder.
 
This was the underlying issue that shaped my dad’s life. This was why he never found happiness or comfort despite having all the resources he needed. This is why he couldn’t complete a single fucking project despite being wildly imaginative and mechanically minded. This is why he couldn’t find stable, lasting relationships with his own kin, his romantic prospects, or any of his fluctuating “buddies” despite being a vibrant, interesting, capable human.
 
This Complex PTSD that he just started to learn about was his Achilles heel for 62 years. Just as it has been for my own nearly 31. There’s nothing I can do to settle up the regrets and empathy I have for my late father. But in his memory, I’ll be motherfucked if I relive the same generational misery.
 
This Complex PTSD that he just started to learn about was his achilles heel for 62 years. Just as it has been for my own nearly 31. There’s nothing I can do to settle up the regrets and empathy I have for my late father. But in his memory, I’ll be motherfucked if I relive the same generational misery.
 
Maybe that’s my lesson in all of this.
 
Coming soon from my personal corner; the universal drive for finding purpose and meaning in disaster as a means for healing. Because it turns out, I’m not the only one who’s searching for a former clarity. Even two gruff older brothers with overconfident atheistic dismissals of universal order are apparently subject to looking for signs as a tactic for coping with trauma. And hey, there’s research to back up my musings.
 
Thanks for letting me take this dive into personal bitching and moaning. It’s a process for me, and hopefully a cautionary tale for anyone who expects to have another 20 years to settle up interpersonal business. Turns out, you never know when one Traumatized Motherfucker will permanently leave another.
 
Thanks for letting me take this dive into personal bitching and moaning. It’s a process for me, and hopefully a cautionary tale for anyone who expects to have another 20 years to settle up interpersonal business. Turns out, you never know when one Traumatized Motherfucker will permanently leave another.
 
Not a guilt trip, not a plea to end any family distance, not a nudge to worry about the other shoe and catastrophic situations… just a word to the wise…. Before you gather up unsent letters, just consider how quickly life can change. How little you might understand the person who has scarred you. How little they probably understand themselves.
 
There are many more Motherfuckers out there than any one of us can realize. Are you ready to give up the opportunity to realize these shared journeys together? If not, just send the fucking letter. It’s better than living with compassionate regrets.
 
I’ll talk to you guys soon.
For extended versions of articles like this one, or to listen rather than read my rants, check out t-mfrs.com and subscribe to the Traumatized Motherfucker podcast wherever you stream.
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 do not necessarily reflect those of CPTSD Foundation. For more information, see our Privacy Policy and Full Disclaimer.
]]> https://cptsdfoundation.org/2021/01/15/death-of-an-abusive-parent/feed/ 17 Emotional Dissociation and CPTSD https://cptsdfoundation.org/2020/12/02/emotional-dissociation-and-cptsd/ https://cptsdfoundation.org/2020/12/02/emotional-dissociation-and-cptsd/#comments Wed, 02 Dec 2020 12:27:50 +0000 https://cptsdfoundation.org/?p=234367 Trigger Warning: be kind to yourself as you read. In addition, This guest post does contain language that some may not feel comfortable reading.

What is there to say about emotions? In the life of a Traumatized Motherfucker… a whole lot.

They’re either here, making their presence known in an overwhelming manner that leaves you debilitated to handle the rest of your personal stressors OR out to sea, floating far away from your present plane of existence for indefinite periods of time.

Emotions remain a confusing, sometimes elusive, and always unpredictable part of my life. “Go big or go home” seems to be the name of the game. And for everyone sitting in the stands… well… it’s always going to be a show, that’s for sure.

Somedays you might interact with me and think, “that is the coldest, most monotone bitch I’ve ever met.” Other times, it’s more of a “holy shit, that was a wild ride” theme park experience. Which Jess are you going to get today? Depends largely on what all is going on in my life and my trauma brain.

What’s the difference between these two emotional states, psychologically speaking? Usually my level of dissociation.

Origins; The emotional “Switch”

Growing up, I was always told that I was “too emotional.” Too sensitive. Too full of feelings that inconvenienced other people.

To be fair… Yeah, I cried when bugs hit the windshield. When I saw ten-day-old roadkill. When my brothers mocked me behind my mom’s back.

But also, for valid reasons. Like when my only friend at school ditched me for a cooler kid, just like all my prior friends had. When my dad wanted nothing to do with me as a youngster. When he skulked around the house breaking things.

Sure, I had feelings. I definitely had abundant empathy plus some unfavorable life factors that stirred up emotions. And I wasn’t able to just “turn it off” whenever my throat started choking up… which I vividly remember, made my family mad.

But don’t worry, Fuckers, I learned eventually.

When I was in high school I learned to dissociate very well. I remember the day distinctly – my oldest brother had overdosed, again. Our morning started with the discovery of his near-lifeless body in the bathroom, barricaded in the tiny space with the shower running to hide his activities. What else is new.

After the paramedics came and went,  after my brother went from purple back to a pasty white boy after the police came and confiscated his paraphernalia… I went to fucking high school. Pack up your shit, don’t be late for study hall.

Like nothing happened. Like I should be fine. Like always.

During this time, my brother’s penchant for heroin was only part of the problematic family playbook. Sure, he was constantly stealing all our shit, getting arrested, dropping off the face of the earth, dying or nearly dying, abusing my family members, and all the other fun times that come with severe drug addiction.

But at the same point, we were still being threatened and stalked by my estranged father – also a drug addict. Years after he was removed from our household by legal force, he was not taking the hint and fading away. Far from it. I laid awake at night and waited for him to make good on his promises. I lived in constant fear.

What else could be contributing to the madness? Oh, just living below the poverty line as my single mom tried to support 3 kids without any help or college education. Struggling to get by every month and hearing all about it was a super great way to grow up. Definitely didn’t create any scarcity problems for me long term. My mom’s stress-induced explosions were a treat to contend with, too.

As you might imagine… I had a lot of big feelings about all of these events and patterns. But I had no one to talk to and no way to escape it. Our extended family didn’t even know what our household was like, let alone the kids and teachers at school. This drama is not really the sort of thing that brings people together when the other parties have a regular, supportive home environment, and meanwhile, you can’t count the number of times you’ve had the police called to your house in the past month.

So, my only option was to carry on and pretend that everything was totally cool at home while I attended school and worked nearly-full-time in retail. Wipe up the tears, pull yourself up by your Petsmart uniform, and keep that GPA above a 4.0. And that morning when my oldest brother OD-ed, again? That’s the day when I remember something new and interesting happening. Instead of feeling low down, overwhelmed, and emotionally disparate all day as I ground my way through the idiotic public school system… I felt… nothing. Not a thing.

The emotions were there one moment – and poof – they were gone the next.

I went about my business, finished my school day, went to work, and reported back home in time for homework. Get up early, do the whole thing over again. “Huh,” I thought, looking back on my successful day of masquerading as a normal human, “I don’t know what this lack of feeling is, but that’s pretty cool. Like an emotional ‘switch’ just got flipped.”

Ten or fifteen years later, I really wouldn’t think that this sensation was so chill.

I would be battling against it, trying to restore some sense of normalcy in my emotional life which now wildly fluctuated from 0 to 100, but rarely settled anywhere in between.

Power outage

After this first occurrence of emotional numbing (AKA emotional detachment, or emotional dissociation) it became the normal MO for my life. Rarely feeling. Rarely being present in my body. Rarely having a sense of living the life I was watching unfold before me.

Things didn’t get better for me at home. Life was constantly throwing new curveballs in my own personal development. Events were always unpredictable, incredibly stressful, and necessitating a “hold on by the skin of your teeth,” mentality.

As a response, my brain continued to bolster this newfound defense mechanism of shutting the fuck down when times were too chaotic to handle. It was like my brain and body operated independently of one another; physical sensations and emotions included.

Publicly, I was skilled at showing up with a smile on my face, being the life of the party, and working 16 hour days. Privately, I was adept at starving myself, pumping my body full of chemicals, and keeping my head down so I wouldn’t see all the corpses floating around me.

I did “normal kid” stuff – attended college, held demanding jobs, had more friends and boyfriends than I could remember now – but I never felt very normal. During this time, I don’t think I even realized that I barely felt anything at all.

I was great at telling people to “git fucked” and moving on without a second thought. I was tough enough to withstand long, difficult workdays. I was amazingly ambitious when it came to keeping my focus on my academic obligations. And I never realized that these “abilities” came riding along in the sidecar of my heightened Dissociation tendencies. I just thought I was uniquely work-centered and goddamn tired of people’s bullshit (that last part is true).

I never even noticed that these drives came with the absence of, well, feeling any feelings…. Until the day that my feelings came back.

The rubber band effect

What happens when you suppress your emotions for ten years or so in order to put on a high-functioning mask for the world?

Fucker, if you’re like me, they come back. With a vengeance. Making up for lost time. Ready to bowl you over after years of being ignored.

Somewhere in my early 20’s (I say “somewhere,” but I know I was 23), something changed. I met a boy who I fell head over heels for – it has been my only instance of love at first sight, which I never believed was real before this split second changed my mind forever.

I was full of the feels, unlike what I had experienced in 5 years, easily. The excitement, the longing, the confusion. It was butterflies, day and night, from our long-distance semi-relationship. I thought I had found him; the boy who was always meant to be mine. It was a pre-teen movie, in real life.

And then… it fell apart. And I was catapulted into MUCH WORSE FEELS than I ever thought possible.

Not only was the failure, rejection, and sadness from this romantic relationship dissolution dancing through my head and broken heart, which is enough to drive plenty of men to the brink of madness… but with it? About 10 years of long-lost, deeply repressed, emotions came pouring into my brain and body. And I had no idea what was going on.

Imagine, going from a deep sleep under the influence of anesthesia to waking up in a room full of blaring sirens and flashing emergency lights. This was my early 20’s.

All that depression, anxiety, fear, frustration, and heartbreak that was gathering dust from the past decade while sitting hidden in a dark, untouched corner? Get the fuck ready, it’s coming at you hot. All at once. With no emotional education or coping skills under your belt. It’s like being hit by a train.

You fucking KNOW I fought against those emotions with all my might. I didn’t WANT to wallow. I didn’t WANT to be angry about my shitty, struggle-bus life. I didn’t WANT to recognize the shit I had been blocking out since age 14. But here it all was; the repressed pain, fear, and shame bubbling up to the surface after a decade underground.

And that’s the year that I fell sick with my autoimmune disease. Coincidence? Ha.

The emotional ebb and flow

And so it continued. For the next several years I flip-flopped back and forth; desperately trying to repress my feelings, and finding my world was crumbling down when they popped back up anyway. Being blindsided by every emotion I experienced and having no idea how to deal with them.

I saw feelings as being negative, dangerous, and unnecessary. Even as I lost my grip on that emotional switch, I did everything I could to just turn them away at the door. Distract, detach, desensitize.

For weeks or months, my emotional-shutdown efforts would work, and I genuinely prided myself on being a cold, numb bitch. I bragged about my unemotional lifestyle. I kicked back, feeling superior to everyone who was so busy complaining about their personal pain I was untouched by life. Unbothered by the assholes who continued to test my last nerve. Unmarred from the early life that clearly hadn’t impacted me (ha).

But inevitably, these feelings would present again whether I was ready or not. And now, the years of avoidance made them sticky like jelly on my hands without access to running water.

So began my era of falling into deep pits that I couldn’t climb my way out of. Getting “trapped” in depressive spells. Being overwhelmed by anxiety and fear. Finding guilt and shame were unshakable. Laying, isolated, and alone in my apartment, unable to think straight, to quell the raging waves in my body, or to place the constant discomfort that plagued my everyday living.

Sick with physical illnesses. Packed to the brim with mental illnesses. Churning with unresolved, unnameable negative emotions. And unsure how to separate the three.

Just, royally fucked, to put it simply. An entanglement of issues that no one wanted to talk about, even if they had the words – myself included. The consequences of a life avoided from a first-person perspective.

My emotional life today

So, surely I’ve got a grip on these *feelings* at this point, yeah? I mean, I write as if I understand them pretty solidly… “Don’t avoid them, lean in, it’s okay to feel what you feel, resolve them before they stick it to you…” Yeah, it’s great to hear that everything is all ironed out and neatly folded, right?!

Haha, Nah, not exactly.

Today, I’m still in a constant battle of me versus my dissociation. It’s better – don’t get me wrong. When I notice that I have something going on inside, I can actually deal with it and move along very rapidly. But there are many times when it feels like I suddenly “wake up” from a long dream and realize that I wasn’t really experiencing my life as it happened.

There are many times when “dangerous” emotions are still shuttled to some inaccessible tomb, deep inside my rotting gut. When things are too overwhelming, too powerful, or challenge my personal progress, my brain box still shuts that shit right down with dissociative and avoidant defenses.

And, just like before, I’m usually none the wiser. No internal alarm system goes off to tell me that I’m in defense mechanism mode. I don’t seem to realize that I’m living with one foot in a dream world, hiding the more nightmarish aspects of life for an equally-inconvenient future date.

I just go about my business, keeping myself tied up with working too much and caring too much about other people’s shit to pay any attention to my bodily detachment.

Until one day it presents itself again – a bloated, churning, aggressive batch of pissed off inner experiences that could have been handled one by one, instead of dozen by dozen.

So begins the long, arduous task of unraveling old emotions as new ones continue to flood in. So marks the start of my “emotional days” when my sensitivity and agitation peak around level 11/10.

So invites all the comments from unknowing onlookers, repeating the same sentiments I’ve heard since age 5; “You’re so emotional, you’re too sensitive, I don’t understand your feelings.”

Me, either, Fucker. Me, either.

 

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 do not necessarily reflect those of CPTSD Foundation. For more information, see our Privacy Policy and Full Disclaimer.

]]> https://cptsdfoundation.org/2020/12/02/emotional-dissociation-and-cptsd/feed/ 23 Why the Narcissistic Abuse Cycle Feels like CPTSD Comfort. https://cptsdfoundation.org/2020/11/20/why-the-narcissistic-abuse-cycle-feels-like-cptsd-comfort/ https://cptsdfoundation.org/2020/11/20/why-the-narcissistic-abuse-cycle-feels-like-cptsd-comfort/#comments Fri, 20 Nov 2020 11:00:49 +0000 https://cptsdfoundation.org/?p=234364 Who has bad taste in romantic partners? I do!

No matter how many times I think I’m choosing wisely… uh… I’m not. Plain and simple, I don’t know how to choose a good human for my significant other.

Am I a chronic dater? Just taking whatever comes my way? Nope, actually, I love my alone time and I don’t seek out romantic partners, well, ever really. Too energetically and emotionally expensive. Complicated. Stressful. Painful. Dangerous.

No, I’m not one of those girls who always needs to be with someone to feel whole, myself. I love the thrill of relationships, but I’ve spent many years single, and dare I say, occasionally even thriving?

The remainder of this guest post does contain language that some may not feel comfortable reading. Always be kind to yourself. 

But don’t worry… somehow, every time I do manage to make a connection with someone, you’d better believe that it’s going to be a terrible choice. As someone who prefers to have limited human contact because I genuinely can’t stand them, I have no idea what my fucking problem is. I really love losers in sheep’s clothing.

Anyways, things are… complex when it comes to dating in the wake of Complex Trauma. Getting over my social anxiety, mistrust, and sky-high walls is hard enough. Picking up my phone and answering people isn’t really my forte. Meeting up in public places and having socially pressured plans doesn’t sit well with my neuroticism. So, clearly, getting together isn’t easy in the first place.

Even worse, I really don’t know how to let things go when it’s inevitably not working out. And trust me, it will only be a matter of months before things are in the shitter. They’ll reveal some deep, fucked up personal truths. We’ll struggle with communication and cooperation. I’ll feel like I’m dating a stranger with my dad’s temper before long.

Even worse, I really don’t know how to let things go when it’s inevitably not working out. And trust me, it will only be a matter of months before things are in the shitter. They’ll reveal some deep, fucked up personal truths. We’ll struggle with communication and cooperation. I’ll feel like I’m dating a stranger with my dad’s temper before long.

Will I leave when I see the first warning signs? Nope.

Will I dig in further, feeling strangely obligatorily tied to this person? Will I decide I’m responsible for all of their feelings and general well-being? Will I put all of my own dissatisfaction and unrest aside? Will I feel like there actually isn’t another choice? Yip.

Will my partner realize this, play-off my emotional martyrdom, and drag my mental health through the steaming-shit-streams that they’ve chronically gestated in their addictive, self-centered but self-loathing, disastrous lives? Yeah, that’s the ticket.

Will the breakup be long, drawn-out, and more painful with every passing day as we slip between hell and purgatory, on repeat? Will everyone’s behavior continue to escalate — way past the point of lovers’ quarrels and fully into the territory of emotional and physical abuse? Will it take extreme, flighty measures before the spell is finally broken and escape is mine?

Don’t get me wrong, there are plenty of terrible people that Traumatized Motherfuckers accidentally subscribe to. But, for some reason, it seems like we’re especially adept at finding ourselves deeply enmeshed with narcissists. And once that party starts, the good times don’t want to stop.

So… what’s up with the entrapping shitshow that comes with dating people who fall on the narcissist spectrum, anyways?

Why is it SO hard to get out? Why do we keep crawling forward on broken limbs? Why do we blame ourselves and shut our mouths, even though we’ve been seeing the telltale signs for a few months or years already?

Why is it SO hard to get out? Why do we keep crawling forward on broken limbs? Why do we blame ourselves and shut our mouths, even though we’ve been seeing the telltale signs for a few months or years already?

If you’re already feeling the shame spiral start spinning… don’t worry, don’t blame yourself, and don’t feel like you’re the only fool in the crowd — clearly, I’m here with you. Rest assured, I finally stopped pondering these narcissist-magnet questions to myself as a personal torture device and found us an answer.

Today, let’s talk about the cycle of narcissist abuse. What it is, how it works with our brain chemistry and animal behavior models, and exactly why it’s the perfect trap for Traumatized Motherfuckers to fall into. Yet another pit to desperately claw our way back out of — as if our Trauma backgrounds weren’t slippery enough.

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The narcissistic abuse cycle

1- Idealisation

In the beginning, everything is amazing with narcissists. After you meet each other in the wild — inexplicably drawn together like properly polarized magnets — it feels like walking on clouds every day. It can be dizzying; a new high, unlike anything you remember experiencing before. All signs indicate that you’re slip-sliding into a new relationship, whether you were ready or not.

Things tend to move very quickly, even for people with distrust issues and introverted tendencies. Why? Because the narcissist is pushing things along at a breakneck speed. Blowing up your phone. Asking about your plans. Making sure date night is always right around the corner. Showering you with compliments. Showing an incessant interest that you can’t help but feel flattered by.

This is the first weapon of narcissists — the lovebomb.

When narcissists find something they want, they get it. It’s a fundamental part of their entitled view of the world. They found a secret treasure and that treasure will belong to them, why wouldn’t it? If you’re the shimmering pile of gold in their sights, well shit, you’re about to get swept away in the riptide.

When narcissists find something they want, they get it. It’s a fundamental part of their entitled view of the world. They found a secret treasure and that treasure will belong to them, why wouldn’t it? If you’re the shimmering pile of gold in their sights, well shit, you’re about to get swept away in the riptide.

Narcissists believe that they’re the best, the brightest, the greatest. So, if they find someone that catches their attention, through the transitive property they believe that they’re the best, too. This is why they’re so over the top interested in you — if they (master of the universe) determined that you’re great, well fuck, you must be the greatest EVER. They choose their lovers because they feel deserving of such a finely-designed specimen. This individual is the ultimate partner because they’ve decided so. And, since they’ve gone through the trouble of being interested, that means they have every right to that other human. You will be theirs.

So the go-to move by the narcissist is to flood them with affection, attention, and praise. Make sure the other party can’t take a breath without being reminded that they’re amazing, adorable, and worthy of all the things only the narcissist can deliver them. (Of course, what they actually end up getting is very different than the self-serving delusions promised by the narcissist, check out the earlier narcissist episode for information on that hallmark)

The narcissist makes their love interest fawn with excitement; no one has ever been so into them before. So straight forward. So confident. So insistent. So full of kind words and respect. So different from all the others, in this modern dating culture of playing coy and suggesting casual hangouts at home.

The narcissist makes their love interest fawn with excitement; no one has ever been so into them before. So straight forward. So confident. So insistent. So full of kind words and respect. So different from all the others, in this modern dating culture of playing coy and suggesting casual hangouts at home.

For once, you won’t have to wonder what’s going on with your potential-future-boo when you meet a narcissist. They will probably make it very clear what they want and where you’re headed. Buckle in for all the worship that normally befalls the highest echelon supermodels — it’s like you just made the cover of GQ.

As you begin spending time together, each meeting will feel magical. Every date is a new adventure in chivalry and being treated like royalty. Every interaction with their friends and family will be packed full of abundant compliments and bragging about your many personal merits. Every random Tuesday will suddenly feel exciting. Every conversation will pull you closer in and set your sights further into the future.

In short, things start out like a fairytale with narcissists. When they’re wooing, they’re worth their weight in gold. They go above and beyond to win your heart and dominate your social schedule. They know what to say, how to say it, and where to whisk you away to next. They’ll sweep you right off your feet… because that’s step one of the narcissist’s trap. Get you uprooted, obsessed, and convinced that they’re the king. They must be, after all, because you’ve become a fucking queen of the world.

All of these behaviors would feel amazing to anyone. Feeling recognized and respected is important to every person on this earth. But for Complex Trauma sufferers, I think it’s extra addicting to receive so much praise and attention.

All of these behaviors would feel amazing to anyone. Feeling recognized and respected is important to every person on this earth. But for Complex Trauma sufferers, I think it’s extra addicting to receive so much praise and attention.

Consider the definition of CPTSD, first of all. We’ve necessarily experienced emotional abuse and neglect during the developmental portions of our lives from the people who are supposed to care about us. As a long-lasting effect, we generally have low self-worth and negative perceptions of how we fit into this world.

We don’t expect to be acknowledged in most instances, let alone celebrated. We don’t often have easy interactions with others or feel like our presence is demanded in social situations.

And then, the narcissist comes along and fills all of those decades-long open wounds. We actually feel desired and cherished — possibly for the first time ever. Someone is actually putting in the effort to know us, to treat us well, and to build up our fragmented self-esteem. This person appears to have their shit together and they also have chosen us as the pick of the litter. We might even find ourselves viewing the narcissist with a sort of pseudo-parental authority, as they tend to project supreme confidence and security in the way an idealized parent should.

All of this love bombing feels like an unfathomable dream for Complex Trauma sufferers. With the passion that they project and the ways they seem to “see” us as no one else can, we must have been destined to meet each other. It’s a sacred connection. Finally, this human was sent here to save me from everything in the past.

The thing we often don’t notice is how all of those early admirations are actually not about us. They’re functions of how amazing the narcissist is. Those dates out? Those early introductions to family? Those kind words? Those are experiences that prove something positive about the narcissist, because you’re the kind of company they want to be in and be seen in. At the time, though, we’re too busy being blown away by the instances of unexpected admiration and human kindness to notice.

The thing we often don’t notice is how all of those early admirations are actually not about us. They’re functions of how amazing the narcissist is. Those dates out? Those early introductions to family? Those kind words? Those are experiences that prove something positive about the narcissist because you’re the kind of company they want to be in and be seen in. At the time, though, we’re too busy being blown away by the instances of unexpected admiration and human kindness to notice.

Don’t worry, this unfamiliar journey into feeling loved and appreciated won’t last. Once the narcissist is done building you up, they’ll start pulling out the bricks to tear you down.

2- Devaluation

The second phase of the narcissistic abuse cycle is Devaluation. Now that you’re in the clutches of the narcissist, it’s time for them to start molding you into the role they really want you to fill. You aren’t going to be the object of their unconditional affection for long; it’s time to bring the attention back to where it really belongs — on them.

After you’ve been with a narcissist for a while, once you’re in some sort of committed relationship or messily entangled living situation, you’ll notice things start to shift. Suddenly, the conversation isn’t so directed at your merits and amazingness. In fact, the conversation is rarely about you at all… unless you’re being acknowledged for something you didn’t do correctly, that is.

After you’ve been with a narcissist for a while, once you’re in some sort of committed relationship or messily entangled living situation, you’ll notice things start to shift. Suddenly, the conversation isn’t so directed at your merits and amazingness. In fact, the conversation is rarely about you at all… unless you’re being acknowledged for something you didn’t do correctly, that is.

There’s still plenty of room to talk about how you’re letting them down in various ways or failing to meet some previously unknown-measure in one or both of your lives. There’s not much time in the day to discuss what’s going on with you, how you’re feeling, what you’re working towards, or why.

Actually… it seems like most every interaction has to surround the incredible accomplishments or unsettled life conditions of your partner these days. Their experience, their schedule, their wants, and needs, are the name of the game. And hell, if your name does come up, there’s a lot of emphasis on the ways that you’ve directly or indirectly responsible for their shortcomings.

The relationship stops being about both of you and starts to feel like it’s more about how you serve them. Huh, you probably don’t remember signing up for that arrangement… but you continue pushing forward, anyways. Everyone has bad days, right?

The relationship stops being about the both of you, and starts to feel like it’s more about how you serve them. Huh, you probably don’t remember signing up for that arrangement… but you continue pushing forward, anyways. Everyone has bad days, right?

Clearly, you just forgot to pay enough attention to their circumstances. You were too busy worrying about your own work, social connections, and mental health to consider how you could support theirs more fully.

You vow to do better next time, and you mean it. You beat yourself up for being less than a perfect partner. Your significant other confirms that this has been their thought, too. With the weight of the relationship firmly on your shoulders, the tension decreases.

This relationship imbalance will only continue to develop over time. Narcissists take things step by step, gradually withdrawing their abundant affection and replacing it with dismissal or negative attention. The thing is, you aren’t going to notice right off the bat; they won’t outright hand you a loaded gun. If they push too hard right out of the gates, not only would you be more likely to catch on and start backpedaling out of the relationship, but hell, they wouldn’t look very good in the aftermath.

Narcissists know how human brains work after decades of influencing them to bend to their will; they know how to be covert with their manipulations. And so, they employ more subtle emotional tactics like gaslighting, triangulation, and isolation to keep things on the sneaky side of abuse and pull you in even closer, making it more difficult to see straight or leave.

Narcissists know how human brains work after decades of influencing them to bend to their will; they know how to be covert with their manipulations. And so, they employ more subtle emotional tactics like gaslighting, triangulation, and isolation to keep things on the sneaky side of abuse and pull you in even closer, making it more difficult to see straight or leave.

I’m sure we’re all familiar with gaslighting by now — and, you know I wish I was just talking about one of my favorite bands. Gaslighting is defined as psychological manipulation in which a person or a group covertly sows seeds of doubt in a targeted individual or group, making them question their own memory, perception, or judgment, often evoking in them cognitive dissonance and other changes, including low self-esteem.

In real-world terms, the narcissist will verbally or functionally tell you one thing through their words or actions… and when you repeat what you’re noticing or question the intention, they’ll find a way to turn it all around on you. To either make you feel “insane” for interpreting it that way or for believing that’s what happened at all. Even if the event literally just took place — the words just popped out of their mouths five seconds earlier — they will insist that it never happened or you’re flawed for believing that it did. This has the effect of reducing your confidence in self and empowering them as the authority.

Triangulation is another common form of mental and emotional abuse. In this instance, the narcissist draws on the power of your other social connections to create an isolating and disempowering situation. Triangulation is defined as the occurrence when an outside person intervenes or is drawn into a conflicted or stressful relationship in an attempt to ease tension and facilitate communication. In the context of narcissism, triangulation occurs when the narcissist attempts to control the flow, interpretation, and nuances of communication.

In other words, the narcissist starts communicating with your friends and family members about your relationship rather than talking directly to you. They control the entire conversation because you aren’t invited to give your input, which enables them to skew the storyline and paint a much brighter picture when it comes to their own actions.

In other words, the narcissist starts communicating with your friends and family members about your relationship rather than talking directly to you. They control the entire conversation because you aren’t invited to give your input, which enables them to skew the storyline and paint a much brighter picture when it comes to their own actions.

They can express their love and concern for you while mentioning that things have been rocky lately and they’re not sure what’s happening. They can retell old arguments and alter the plotlines ever so slightly to remove any of their own actions from the mix and highlight yours. They can drum up sympathy and respect while subtly or overtly questioning your positive intentions.

Triangulation is one of the sneakiest ways for narcissists to control you, because whereas you typically have some awareness of gaslighting taking place, with triangulation they’re doing it through indirect measures that you might never be privy to.

It’s possible that they’ll leverage the newfound social changes against you in an argument (“so-and-so said that you were being selfish and cruel,” or “whatsherface agreed with me that you…”), but it’s also very possible that their triangulation efforts will have an unexplainable isolation outcome from your perspective. Your friends might just drop off the map or become distant without you ever realizing what happened.

Of course, this brings us to isolation. Narcissists don’t want you to be well connected or socially supported, because it disempowers them by limiting their control over you. If you’re able to turn to friends and family in times of need, if you’re able to receive confirmation that what they’re doing isn’t right, if you’re able to easily leave them when things get rocky, that limits their manipulation power. It helps you to maintain boundaries. It gives you an escape route when that voice in your head whispers, “hold up, this person is sending serious unsafe vibes right now.” And so, they work to isolate you.

Narcissists don’t want you to be well connected or socially supported, because it disempowers them through limiting their control over you. If you’re able to turn to friends and family in times of need, if you’re able to receive confirmation that what they’re doing isn’t right, if you’re able to easily leave them when things get rocky, that limits their manipulation power.

Isolation may be physical, such as convincing you to move 700 miles away from your “framily” — is that oddly specific? Yeah, because it’s my life. They may encourage you to quit successful employment positions where you have the support of coworkers, self-confidence, and financial stability. They may insist that you accompany them on trips across the country or right around the corner, in order to keep you in sight and under control at all times.

Isolation can also be very mental and emotional if it’s not as explicit as locking you in the basement. As described with triangulation, narcissists enjoy thinning your social network until it disintegrates fully. By controlling your relationships they control your ability to receive outside, unbiased feedback about their actions.

They also position themselves as the most important person, resource, and influence in your life. With fewer humans to care for, you can focus more attention on them and their needs. With fewer voices to question what the fuck they were doing, exactly, you can continue to believe that you’re dating a real catch and simply need to change yourself to be good enough for them.

These mental and emotional abuse tactics are just a few of the ways that narcissists enact the de-valuation portion of the cycle of abuse. But lawd, are they effective.

This is how you find yourself convinced that you’re just not doing enough. You’re just not paying enough attention to caring for them. You’re just too wrapped up in your own selfish existence and mental unhealth to be the best you can be. You need to try harder and everything will be fine.

This is how you find yourself convinced that you’re just not doing enough. You’re just not paying enough attention to caring for them. You’re just too wrapped up in your own selfish existence and mental un-health to be the best you can be. You need to try harder and everything will be fine.

You can be as amazing as they thought you were in the first place again. Just be better so you can stop letting people down. Especially people who think that you’re so wonderful… at least, you know, when they think you’re not being so horrible.

All of this disempowerment works to draw you in closer to the narcissist, to be fully immersed in their world, and to begin questioning everything else in your life — even your damn self and the things you always held to be true.

Why doesn’t all of this mental fuckery quickly alert the victim that they need to get out, ASAP? Well, the tactics are sneaky and manipulative… plus, narcissists know when to pull their punches. They might tear you down and grind you through the wringer until you’re on the brink of falling apart, but then they’ll revert to stage number one right at the final second.

Why doesn’t all of this mental fuckery quickly alert the victim that they need to get out, ASAP? Well, the tactics are sneaky and manipulative… plus, narcissists know when to pull their punches. They might tear you down and grind you through the ringer until you’re on the brink of falling apart, but then they’ll revert to stage number one right at the final second.

Suddenly, they’re fawning over you again. Telling you how amazing you are. Apologizing for seeming like they were saying one thing when, in fact, they couldn’t love or care about you more. Reiterating that they can’t live without you. Just as all the threads start to unravel, they’ll stitch you back up, tie a pretty bow on it, and set you back on the shelf for you to serve them another day.

For Complex Trauma sufferers, this process is especially effective and destructive… for reasons that you can probably begin to formulate on your own. You’re smart Motherfuckers, you know your head doesn’t need any help with these self-shaming sentiments. But, we’ll get to that whole story in a minute. First, let’s keep on track with the narcissistic cycle of abuse and talk about the final step in the cycle.

3- Discard

What happens when either 1) you run out of attention, love, affection, finances, or other resources that the narcissist has been banking on? Or 2) you realize that “holy shit, this was really fucked up for a while now,” and start looking for a way out?

It’s predictable. It’s a losing battle that they can’t control anymore. There’s no function to the relationship anymore because they aren’t getting what they signed up for in the first place. And so, the narcissist discards you.

If this split is the narcissist’s choice, they will find a substitute before they pull the trigger. Cut and run… but, with new honey on the line. No wily narcissist will trade something for nothing, even if they insist that you can’t give them a thing.

If this split is the narcissist’s choice, they will find a substitute before they pull the trigger. Cut and run… but, with a new honey on the line. No wily narcissist will trade something for nothing, even if they insist that you can’t give them a thing.

They’ll start sneaking around, trying to secure a new source of stability and praise before they ever have an adult conversation with you about it. When they’ve got their next supply lined up, they’ll be gone in an instant; don’t expect any closure or information about what happened between your last dramatic make-up session and one week later, when you mean nothing to them and never did.

Once they’re gone — poof — like they never even knew you in the first place… Will they wave their new love interest in your face? Will they insist that you were holding them back? Will they find a whole new life meaning in this fantastical soulmate that they discovered after enduring years of your abuse and neglect? You betcha.

Don’t worry, nothing has changed. Their next victim has no idea what’s in store for them. They’re being swept away in a tidal wave that first appears like the coolest wave pool they’ve ever seen. You, on the other hand, will finally be able to see their full-fledged lovebomb from the outside. Will it sting? Yeah, probably. Your ego can’t help but have a time of reckoning as your ex suddenly transfers all their proclamations of soulmates and instantaneous love to someone new. “Oh, so I’m not such a one-of-a-kind diamond in the rough, after all… or, else they’re expert miners.”

Don’t worry, you know what you’re missing out on when the switch flips.

Alternatively, what’s going to happen if YOU decide to get out? Uh, good luck. Narcissists don’t take the idea of someone leaving them lightly. For as highly as they think of themselves, they sure are convinced that they need you to hold everything together for them.

Alternatively, what’s going to happen if YOU decide to get out? Uh, good luck. Narcissists don’t take the idea of someone leaving them lightly. For as highly as they think of themselves, they sure are convinced that they need you to hold everything together for them.

When you try to leave a narcissist, it won’t be an easy departure. It couldn’t be. They are accustomed to always getting their way, always having control over other humans, always leaning on the attention and resources that can be sucked from the social situation they’ve designed to serve them. Being rejected is a non-sequitur in the narcissist’s life. No one can leave them. No one can turn away from their brilliance. No one can move on before they’ve given the “Ok.”

If you attempt to leave a narcissist, get ready for DRAMA that never wants to quit. There will be adult temper tantrums. There will be extreme manipulative efforts left and right. There may be more gaslighting and triangulation to try to change your mind. In the end, your efforts to solidify the split may be so poorly received that it may be necessary to use lawful force to finally get them out of your life.

In short, they won’t let go easily. Months or years after the split, you’ll probably still be hearing from them (or, not hearing from them as they silently keep tabs on your life updates through socials). They’ll likely pop up from time to time with stalker-ish behaviors and unrequited confessions of missing you. Unwanted admissions of making huge mistakes and insincere apologies for everything they’ve ever done. The love bombing will return with a vengeance, but this time, it will probably feel creepily dishonest. No matter how kind the words are, now they’ll seem strangely thin and forced.

They might continue to be emotionally manipulative with extreme behaviors, as well. Not all of the desperate attempts to regain your affection will be so sweet. As their efforts don’t result in the expected outcomes they desire (read: “deserve”), hunker down for things to get volatile quickly. Nothing like dealing with an ex who’s threatening to hurt themselves or others because of the emotional strain “you’re putting them through” by denying their advances.

They might continue to be emotionally manipulative with extreme behaviors, as well. Not all of the desperate attempts to regain your affection will be so sweet. As their efforts don’t result in the expected outcomes they desire (read: “deserve”), hunker down for things to get volatile quickly. Nothing like dealing with an ex who’s threatening to hurt themselves or others because of the emotional strain “you’re putting them through” by denying their advances.

It’s also always fun when they start contacting your mutual friends or family members to plead their case or try to poison the well against you. If they can’t have you, your reputation will be dragged through a shit puddle until no one in your life wants you.

If you stay strong and change the infrastructure of your life to completely avoid this turd and avoid feeding into their delusions, you’ve got a chance of moving on. Block their number, block their social media, cut your old social connections, maybe even change your residence and place of work… and remind all of your friends — if any remain — that you are not, under any circumstances, allowed to have contact with this person. If they hear you express the slightest sentiment of grief, regret, or loss, instruct them to promptly slap you silly.

If you have the slightest hesitancy or idea of “giving them another try,” on the other hand… you’re signing on for several more months or years of repeating this narcissistic cycle on repeat. Crack that door open one inch and they will shove it open with suitcases in hand. Do not do it.

Once you’re out, stay out. You need to trust the shitty things that pushed you away in the first place. Do NOT get lost in the old fantasies from the idealization period of your relationship. Do NOT reminisce over the good times. Do NOT fool yourself into assuming the blame for the chaos, unpredictability, and emotional roller coaster of the devaluation period.

If you do, it’s a slippery slope. Get ready to fall back into the same relationship dynamics and lose yourself in the fantasy/abuse fluctuation that these magical beasts oscillate between. With a history like ours, you might never get away from their adoration and assumed blame.

And that, my motherfuckers, is the danger of the narcissistic abuse cycle when it comes to Complex Trauma sufferers, possibly even more than… everyone else. Lez talk about why Trauma sufferers are extremely susceptible to narcissistic abuse.

Why are CPTSD sufferers so likely to suffer from Narc abuse?

History

I think it’s no surprise, a lot of the characteristics of narcissistic abuse sound… well… awfully familiar. Comforting, even. Like experiences that we’re well versed in from our early years and throughout our lives.

Many of us were delivered our early trauma experiences at the hands of narcissists, either directly or indirectly. Narcissistic parents are one of the super common characteristics discussed in the Traumatized Motherfuckers Discord community, and obviously, that correlation makes a lot of sense when we’re talking about emotional neglect and abuse. Why have so many of us grown-up feeling like our emotions, opinions, and experiences don’t matter? Well, having a narcissistic parent definitely contributes.

Many of us were delivered our early trauma experiences at the hands of narcissists, either directly or indirectly. Narcissistic parents are one of the super common characteristics discussed in the Traumatized Motherfuckers Discord community, and obviously, that correlation makes a lot of sense when we’re talking about emotional neglect and abuse. Why have so many of us grown up feeling like our emotions, opinions, and experiences don’t matter? Well, having a narcissistic parent definitely contributes.

As a child, living in the bubble of a narcissistic parent means that you will be manipulated, guilted, shamed, and controlled in order to support their wants and needs. You may be a pawn in the life they present to the world. You may feel like you don’t matter to them at all when you aren’t serving their need for attention and care. You may have to effectively switch roles so that you’re giving them the emotional and physical comforts that they demand.

What is the effect of growing up under these conditions? From a young age, you will learn how to put your own needs aside in order to keep your adult parents afloat. The consequences of not bending to their will are quite enormous as children — you need them for your basic standard of living, even if you can’t count on anything else. Therefore, you have to learn how to appease them to secure at least the basic foundational blocks of your hierarchy of needs.

If mom demands that she needs you to rub her feet and shoulders, if dad insists that you go to the store for his every whim, if no one will feed you unless you feed them first… you do it. Because the other option is not an option. They control you and your ability to thrive. Besides, every so often, your parents will exhibit an over-the-top demonstration of undying love for you. Fawning over your appearance, accomplishments, and personality to make up for all the times they forgot that you existed or treated you unfairly in their plea for securing all the resources they need.

From that young age and with no other life experience, you don’t know any other way for a parent-child relationship to be. And later in life, you won’t know how any partnership could look any different, either. Being emotionally abused, manipulated, and incrementally cherished or cast aside seems pretty normal. Isn’t this how people interact with each other? Isn’t this the role that everyone plays for their significant others? Isn’t this how love works?

From that young age and with no other life experience, you don’t know any other way for a parent-child relationship to be. And later in life, you won’t know how any partnership could look any differently, either. Being emotionally abused, manipulated, and incrementally cherished or cast aside seems pretty normal. Isn’t this how people interact with each other? Isn’t this the role that everyone plays for their significant others? Isn’t this how love works?

No surprise, if narcissistic love is all you’ve ever known, it’s all you’ll recognize to be love.

Trauma bonding

Along with the narcissistic cycle of abuse comes a particularly devastating effect on the human brain… trauma bonding. Trauma bonding is what happens when you and another person endure extreme situations together. For example, soldiers who survive a war together in the same platoon may feel inextricably linked following their shared experience. Their survival depended on one another, they witnessed scenarios that no one else on the planet could understand the same way, and they form a deep, lasting bond because of it.

Hey, the same thing happens in the narcissistic cycle of abuse.

When you’re constantly going through the extreme highs and lows of an abusive relationship, the brain does a funny thing. Similar to Stockholm syndrome, when someone shows you love and kindness following a void of all positive emotions… your survival brain begins to see your abuser as a source of comfort and care, disregarding the fact that they’re the ones perpetrating the trauma in the first place.

When you’re constantly going through the extreme highs and lows of an abusive relationship, the brain does a funny thing. Similar to Stockholm syndrome, when someone shows you love and kindness following a void of all positive emotions… your survival brain begins to see your abuser as a source of comfort and care, disregarding the fact that they’re the ones perpetrating the trauma in the first place.

It’s the extreme nature of the narcissistic abuse that confuses your head. How can someone seem to be so awful, self-centered, and cruel at times, putting you through hell and dragging your mental health through the mud… but also, so sweet, sensitive, and grateful to know you at other times? Couple this with all the gaslighting and isolation, and you’ll start to doubt that they are the cause of the bad times at all.

Under the spell of a convincing emotional manipulator, the narrative in your head starts to shift. Here, you were thinking that this partner was creating a lot of drama with their demands and disregard for your emotions… but, actually, those low periods and times of strife must be your own fault — even symptoms of your Complex Trauma battle, maybe — and meanwhile this wonderful being has been so kind and compassionate to try to ride them out with you. How could you ever blame them for all the messes you’ve both endured? These were just circumstances of life and your own mental illness — not signs of their own maladaptive relationship style.

Because of the cycling between adoration and devaluation, it’s easy to get confused about the cause of your pain and the solution to end it. And Complex Trauma sufferers are no strangers to their inner critics telling them that they’ve caused all the trouble they’re experiencing. Our low self-esteem and penchant for shame make us the perfect subject for narcissistic abuse because we are ready to take the brunt of the blame.

Even when we have moments of clarity, our inner voices are ready to shut it down and assume the worst about ourselves at the drop of a hat. We fuck up ALL relationships, after all. Our big emotions, our anxiety, our depression, our health problems, our silly trauma “quirks” — all of these personal shortcomings complicate our relationships. Why would this instance be any different?

It’s a no-brainer to assume that our mental health and symptoms are the root of all evil — especially when people are more than happy to tell us that’s the case. And let’s be honest, if it’s not the narcissist, themself, telling you that your messy head is to blame… someone else in your life probably has mentioned it before. It’s an old narrative on repeat. I’m not good enough, I’m too broken, I can’t do anything right, no one deserves to put up with me.

Next thing you know, you’re feeling indebted to your narcissistic captor. What an angel for putting up with your shit. You can’t believe that you’ve stuck it out this long together with all the chaos you’ve both seen. They must really love you considering all the effort they’ve put in. How could you ever even ponder leaving them? No one would ever be able to love you this way or to withstand your continual mental fuckery, anyways.

Next thing you know, you’re feeling indebted to your narcissistic captor. What an angel for putting up with your shit. You can’t believe that you’ve stuck it out this long together with all the chaos you’ve both seen. They must really love you considering all the effort they’ve put in. How could you ever even ponder leaving them? No one would ever be able to love you this way or to withstand your continual mental fuckery, anyways.

Because of our tendency to doubt ourselves, our perceptions, and our judgments, Traumatized Motherfuckers are primed and ready for trauma bonding to take over. Our skewed assessments of our own self-worth in comparison to others and unfortunate tendency to assume blame make us amazing candidates for narcissistic abuse to draw us ever-closer to the asshats who are creating the waves in our tumultuous waters.

Next thing you know, we’ve decided that our narcissistic partner is our life-jacket in this churning ocean. Pretty soon, we’re sucked in so deeply that we can’t even identify where their perspective stops and our own perceptions start.

And so, we land on another Complex Trauma hallmark that ain’t helping anyone with these shit relationships; codependency.

Codependency

To start, let’s define codependency because I think a lot of us get it wrong. No judgment, I’m talking about myself here. Until about 3 months ago, I didn’t have a full understanding of the term. As a Motherfucker would, I interpreted it to mean that I was always needy and requiring the support of another human. “I’m not pathetic, I can take care of myself!” I wrongly insisted for most of my life.

Nah. That’s not the point.

Codependency is actually a pattern of having poor boundaries with others, in a mutual clusterfuck of limited personal accountability and self-management. This leads to enabling and controlling behaviors between both partners, as they simultaneously expect their own emotional and physical needs to be fulfilled by their significant other rather than themselves.

Codependency is actually a pattern of having poor boundaries with others, in a mutual clusterfuck of limited personal accountability and self-management. This leads to enabling and controlling behaviors between both partners, as they simultaneously expect their own emotional and physical needs to be fulfilled by their significant other rather than themselves.

For me, this looks like one undulating pool of emotions that can’t be assigned to one party or the other. I tend to have zero emotional boundaries with my closest connections, which creates a confusing set of circumstances where I feel responsible for all of their feelings and experiences, and vice versa. If they’re having a bad day, I’m having a worse day because our experiences are so incestuous that I can’t differentiate my own emotions from theirs. I become frantic, trying to figure out how to support and soothe them so we can both feel okay again.

In the wake of all this narcissistic talk, how do you think that pattern works out under the spell of a narc abuser? Uh, poorly.

When you have codependent tendencies, you are primed to be taken advantage of. If some one desires to dump their responsibilities on your shoulders, your response will be insidious self-hate and feelings of inadequacy as you struggle to hold two heads above water, rather than expecting your partner to kick their fucking feet once in a while.

This is exactly what happens in the cycle of narcissistic abuse. When things are going well, in the idealisation phase of the cycle, you’ll feel like you’re walking on water. Everyone is happy, everyone is fulfilled, everyone is so enamored and deeply loved. Your partner is doing well, and therefore, so are you. Your value is validated. Your life has a purpose.

This is exactly what happens in the cycle of narcissistic abuse. When things are going well, in the idealisation phase of the cycle, you’ll feel like you’re walking on water. Everyone is happy, everyone is fulfilled, everyone is so enamored and deeply loved. Your partner is doing well, and therefore, so are you. Your value is validated. Your life has a purpose.

Annnd then the devaluation phase kicks into gear. All of those fuzzy feelings disappear, and you’re left desperately thrashing as you attempt to personally will everyone back into a place of positive feelings and experiences. Your partner is in pain and therefore so are you. Nothing feels good and nothing is right until you can fix it again.

This is exactly what the narcissistic personality is hoping for. Work ten times as hard to keep me afloat so I don’t have to lift a finger. Forget your own feelings, friends, and aspirations because you’re too consumed with my world. Try to be the best partner you can be, and blame yourself for my incremental cruelty and chaos. Ideal.

The next thing you know, you’re not only responsible for their emotions and experiences… but all the ways they abuse you. If they said or did something extremely harmful, it’s because you’ve done something to cause this rapid shift. If you could only be better, then so could they. Enabling and controlling behaviors take over your life. The next thing you know, you don’t even know what your life is without considering theirs.

To drive the point home even faster, here’s a quick list I stole of the shared traits of codependency and trauma bonding:

Your self-worth feels entirely dependent on the narcissist

You deny your own needs in order to focus exclusively on meeting those of the narc

Boundaries are either non-existent or very weak

Communicating your own needs is nearly impossible because you don’t even know what they are anymore

You take responsibility and blame for the narc’s actions and behaviours

Your fear of abandonment is disabling

You have an intense need for approval from the narcissist

Comfort in chaos

I guess it probably goes without saying at this point… there’s a lot of chaos built into the narcissistic abuse cycle that mirrors the shit we’re used to from our childhood homes and early life experiences. The up and down roller coaster of a narcissist’s emotions and actions can feel very comforting and familiar.

For those of us who don’t know what a calm, peaceful life would even begin to look like, it seems absolutely normal that the relationship follows a rapid rise and fall pattern — everything else in life does, after all. You never know what you’re going to get. You’re always waiting for the other shoe to drop, anyways. So it’s actually validating and comforting when it happens with some predictable unpredictability.

For those of us who don’t know what a calm, peaceful life would even begin to look like, it seems absolutely normal that the relationship follows a rapid rise and fall pattern — everything else in life does, afterall. You never know what you’re going to get. You’re always waiting for the other shoe to drop, anyways. So it’s actually validating and comforting when it happens with some predictable unpredictability.

Is he/she going to come home in a great mood, walking on water, today? Or will they be screaming in my face about something that I have nothing to do with? It’s always a fun game of “what’s behind door number 3” with a narcissist in your life. And as much as we Traumatized Motherfuckers say that we HATE chaos, the truth is that oftentimes it’s all we know.

It would be boring, uncomfortable, and possibly more stressful for us to imagine an even-keeled, probable outcome to every day and every circumstance. That just drums up our sense of foreboding and doom without ever experiencing the relief of seeing it become reality.

While other folks might look in on a narcissistic relationship and think that it seems unmanageable and terrifying, we take a gander, shrug, and think about our upbringing. What’s so scary? Seems like mom and dad. Seems like my neighborhood. Seems like my social situation at school. Is there another option?

Narcissists breed chaos and — whether you want to acknowledge it or not — we’re always looking for another dose.

Speaking of which, one final point. Let’s talk about the addictive quality of narcissistic abuse.

Addiction

Lastly, I have to throw my ABA education into the ring to enthusiastically talk about the intermittent reinforcement that is necessarily part of the idealisation and devaluation phase fluctuation. I’m not even projecting my recent readings onto this post — it’s actually discussed in all the narcissism literature.

Intermittent reinforcement is an important part of the addicting quality of narcissistic abuse that keeps us coming back for more punches.

Intermittent reinforcement is an important part of the addicting quality of narcissistic abuse that keeps us coming back for more punches.

What’s intermittent reinforcement? What it sounds like. Reinforcement is any consequence that increases the frequency of a behavior happening in the future — it can be positive or negative reinforcement — but that distinction isn’t important right now. Reinforcement is provided on a schedule to encourage the development and maintenance of behaviors — these schedules range from continuous to fixed to variable.

With so-called intermittent reinforcement, we’re talking about a variable schedule. You’re smart, you can guess what this means. Only some instances of the desired behavior is reinforced, with a general “average number” before reinforcement is provided. The purpose of this timing is to encourage the rapid and consistent development of targeted responses and, maybe, more importantly, to maintain them over time.

Think about it — if you perform a certain action and receive a reward some of the time, you’re likely to continue performing that action all the time, because there’s always a chance of getting what you want. If you don’t receive the reward, you aren’t discouraged to stop trying… after all, the next opportunity might be the one when you receive reinforcement again!

How is this relevant, you ask, thinking that I’m being a behavioral asshole. Well, in the beginning, phases of idealization with a narcissist, they’re going to give you continuous reinforcement. It’s all good times, no matter what you do. They shower you with positive attention, accolades, and possibly even material goods. All you have to do is show up and be amiable to the interaction as your wonderful, cherished self.

As time goes on, however, the narcissist thins the schedule of reinforcement. Instead of providing you with positive feedback every time you do something that they like, they start intermittently positively acknowledging what you’ve done. You strive for the satisfaction and validation of their positive regard and gifts, so you continue to exhibit the behaviors they’ve reinforced in the past, nevertheless.

As time goes on, however, the narcissist thins the schedule of reinforcement. Instead of providing you with positive feedback every time you do something that they like, they start intermittently positively acknowledging what you’ve done. You strive for the satisfaction and validation of their positive regard and gifts, so you continue to exhibit the behaviors they’ve reinforced in the past, nevertheless.

And every so often, it pays off! They realize that you were a good little worker bee or sacrificial lamb and they actually mention your efforts in some form of socially mediated reinforcement.

When you’re still receiving positive attention once in a while, you won’t quit demonstrating the desired behavior until the reinforcement schedule grows too thin. So, if it’s 3 months in between receiving a compliment or a thank you, well, maybe you’ll decide that enough is enough. But if it’s every week or so between receiving the reward that you strive for — hell, there’s always a chance that it’s coming your way. Just keep acting the way they want you to, and eventually, it’ll come to validating fruition.

For folks like us, who tend to have addictive personalities already, do you think this intermittent reinforcement is effective? It sure fucking is. Essentially, this is the same concept that they use to program slot machines. Every so often you’ll hit the jackpot, so it becomes addicting to keep seeking that momentary thrill. It might just take one more pull of the handle to receive the reinforcement you’re looking for. Only one way to find out.

This sneaky principle of behavioral science is just another way that Complex Trauma sufferers tend to be the perfect subjects for narcissist abuse. We long for the personal validation and emotional support that will sometimes be provided by the narcissist’s glowing reviews. And we aren’t going to give up that high, even if it means enduring days or weeks of acting on our best behavior without receiving a thing in return.

Again, this probably reminds us of our narcissistic parental roots. Just keep being a good boy or girl, and one of these days, mom or dad is going to say something about it. Then I can feel loved, if only for a moment. That’s what you know, that’s what you expect, and therefore that’s what you accept without considering that there might be an alternative.

Wrap it

Alright, Fuckers. Jesus Christ, this one took me a long time to finish. Quite honestly, because I’ve been too preoccupied trying to decide if I’m quickly entering a relationship with a narcissist or not. With MY past history of chaos, abuse, codependency, narcissistic figures, and addiction… uh… it’s pretty fucking hard to tell.

We’ll find out about the nature of this dude and this relationship pretty quickly, I suppose. This idealisation phase can’t last long. And I’ll be sure to start bitching if I find myself being devalued through the emotional manipulation efforts that I know a thing or two about this time around.

Live, learn, lament. Amiright?

If you’ve found yourself in a narcissist’s clutches in the past, don’t beat yourself up about it. Realize that they have decades of experience under their belts, learning how to identify, test, and mold humans to meet their needs. Even if you consider yourself to be an excellent judge of character, it can be hard to look past the initial charms of a full-blown narcissist to see the subliminal ways they shape your outlook and behaviors.

When it came to my narcissistic ex, I was so blind to it that we often joked about him being one. It seemed so preposterous during the days when he bent over backwards to treat me like a queen. Until… he isolated me, forced me to fold into the container of his life, and started redacting all of his gushy proclamations of love and devotion, that is.

In hindsight, I saw it happening and explained it away. It was good enough that he rewarded me once in a while with reinforcements that validated my belief in him as a trustworthy human. I don’t blame myself for the missteps. I just wish I had known better and listened better.

The first time a voice whispered, “IS he a narcissist, though?” I should have taken the steps necessary to find out; stop delivering his supply of attention and support. Separate yourself. Set boundaries and see if they are honored or blown apart.

If you find yourself in a relationship with a narcissist, start finding a way out. Give yourself distance and don’t humor them with any attention. Cut your ties as thoroughly as possible. Find social support options where you can receive validation for your decision.

And once you’re out of the nightmare, be kind to yourself. Don’t get mad it happened, just get glad that it’s done with.

Cool, I’m out of here to live another boring day, so far free of the emotional roller coasters that I love so dearly.

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]]> https://cptsdfoundation.org/2020/11/20/why-the-narcissistic-abuse-cycle-feels-like-cptsd-comfort/feed/ 12 Over-stimulation and Complex Trauma. https://cptsdfoundation.org/2020/11/04/over-stimulation-and-complex-trauma/ https://cptsdfoundation.org/2020/11/04/over-stimulation-and-complex-trauma/#comments Wed, 04 Nov 2020 11:00:42 +0000 https://cptsdfoundation.org/?p=234107
I have to admit, I’ve been having a rough time in one regard lately. Which is hard to believe considering all the ways this Complex Trauma journey complicates my mental and external worlds.
 
I’m not feeling emotionally-off balance or down and out… but I am feeling very unsettled, pressured, and overly-responsive every day. I’m just a bit agitated. Frustrated. Anxious and restless.
 
Even though nothing is really happening in my small pandemic world, it feels like I’m dealing with a lot. It’s felt a bit like living under a microscope lately. And I haven’t been able to place the sensations with my mental processes… until today. Suddenly, I’m feeling relieved, free, happy. My mind feels sharp. My interest in writing, drawing, and recording feels genuine and free-flowing. I feel relaxed for the first time in a long time.
 
What’s different about this morning? Well, A) I am significantly hungover, so maybe I’m just too worn out for emotions… B) I actually saw other humans last night – ones I really like, too! But C) My mom is outside of the house, dealing with some morning obligations.
 
This means, I actually have some space and silence for myself. I can do whatever I want, and no one is going to be commenting on my every activity. No one is watching the fucking news at an inappropriate volume and talking at the screen. No one is pacing around my environment, moving things around, and banging doors. No one is talking into the air. No one is letting out loud, exasperated sighs.
 
It’s just me, the dogs, my computer, and SILENCE. I’m in control of my environment, and my brain feels peaceful, calm, and focused, as a result.
 
The remainder of this guest post does contain language that some may not feel comfortable reading. Always be kind to yourself. 
Now, were any of the things that I mentioned earlier overtly upsetting or directly stress-inducing? No, not really. At best, I think we could agree that I just described a slightly annoying environment, but not one where I have the right to be upset or angry.
 
And yet, every day I have been. I’ve been endlessly edgy, pissed off, and ready to start a war. I’ve been challenged to focus and get my work done. I’ve been unable to go above and beyond. Hell, half the time I’ve been incapable of even seeing straight; dizzied by the amount of internal activation I’ve been experiencing.
 
What the fuck? This isn’t a new sensation by any means, but you know, I haven’t always been good at paying attention to what I’m feeling or trying to understand it.
 
Today, I am. Because I have the time, space, and conditions necessary to actually notice my experiences and think about them logically, rather than being halfway to fight/flight or freeze.
 
Today, I’m getting self-educated on overstimulation.
 
Highly Sensitive Persons
 
First of all, I’m just learning about a new personality trait – one that I definitely would have laughed at in my pissier years, but today I can shut down my inner asshole and acknowledge that it truly explains so much about me. It’s called being a Highly Sensitive Person. And, I know, that sounds like some flouncy bullshit.
 
“Oh, highly sensitive…? So you’re a little bitch,” younger Jess would have said. Well, fuck-it, maybe I am. But I’m not the only one.
 
It’s believed that 15-20% of the population is comprised of Highly Sensitive Persons – folks with a common trait of “increased sensitivity of the central nervous system and a deeper cognitive processing of physical, social and emotional stimuli.” The trait is characterized by “a tendency to ‘pause to check’ in novel situations, greater sensitivity to subtle stimuli, and the engagement of deeper cognitive processing strategies for employing coping actions, all of which is driven by heightened emotional reactivity, both positive and negative”
 
And yeah, I just stole that from Wikipedia. Don’t get too impressed.
 
But, does that sound like someone I know? It sure does. In fact, the more I dig into HSP’s, the more I feel like I’m reading my own journal… one of the pages where I’m listing everything that I perceive to be wrong with me and harassing myself for being so strange compared to the ways my peers can function.
 
Here, just read this and see if you relate: https://www.expansiveheart.com/highly-sensitive-person And/or, take this quiz to see how you rank: https://hsperson.com/test/highly-sensitive-test/
 
Just briefly skimming this information miiiiight make you feel like you’re looking in a mirror for the first time. For me, it’s like all the most annoying and disempowering parts of my life experience have been collected together for my own review. “Oh, there’s a REAL reason why I can’t stand running errands or being in large crowds? It’s not just me being an anxious mess?” Well, that’s a motherfucking relief.
 
This Highly Sensitive Person’s discovery (and a big shoutout to the TMFR community member who pointed me in this direction after hearing about my sensitivity) has really been a game-changer. I feel less like a weak freak and more like a different class of human – one who has been programmed to notice.
 
Why are some of us more astute than others when it comes to environmental stimuli? Well, you know I’m about to start talking about things in trauma terms. Now that we all have a new personality label to research, time to think about why this might be linked to personal or generational T-word.
 
Overstimulation
 
Going hand in hand with the distress intolerance episode… and really, I should have reversed the order of these bitches to talk about stimulation first (live, laugh, love). WHY are we so sensitive to stimuli that we get overwhelmed in daily life and need avoidance behaviors to cope?
 
I can say, without any pause, that I’m a tightly-wound, nervous, easily upset human. I’m very sensitive to my environment and my brain easily overloads into a state of agitation, nervousness, and frustration in situations that wouldn’t bother most other people. I’m not known to be patient or tolerant if you really want to break it down into my personal shortcomings. I know how to project a different image for a while, but deep down, I know it’s true. I’m not proud or ignorant of my high-strung character flaws. Here they are!
 
But, what’s up with those unfortunate, unattractive pieces of my personality? I’ve always just considered myself to be an easily-riled up butthole, but in reality – like most other things that challenge me about myself – this shit miiiiight go back to Trauma more than my inherent temperament.
 
Talking about brains on fire; what happens when your head is always looking out for danger and your internal processing system is a bit wonky with short-circuiting wiring?
 
I’m digging into Overstimulation in relation to Childhood Trauma and the myriad effects it has on our lives.
 
Why are we so sensitive? What’s the physiological basis? What’s the practical outcome? And what happens when the stimulation is coming from inside yourself?
Learned Hypervigilance and Heightened states of arousal
 
I don’t need to tell you, we Traumatized Motherfuckers are always on the lookout. Hyperaware. Hypervigilant. Hypersensitive.
 
When you grow up in an unpredictable and unsafe environment, you learn to be on the ready. To get the fuck out of the way before it’s too late. To detect the energy in a room and remove yourself in case things are about to explode. To pick up external signals and make rapid adjustments to your own behaviors to pacify unavoidable individuals.
 
It’s the same effect that war has on soldiers. No time to relax; you never know when the next bomb is going to go off. We often hear about soldiers with PTSD being highly sensitive to sounds and external stimuli after experiencing the horrors of combat. That’s easy to understand – when you need to be on the lookout for bombshells, roadside traps, and enemy fire to survive, it’s probably pretty difficult to just flip that switch off when you get back to normal life.
 
And, if acute trauma causes us to be on high alert with rapid responses to overstimulation, why wouldn’t Complex Trauma?
 
Instead of learning that we need to be ready for war on the battlefield, we adapt to war in our family homes. Every moment has the potential for a skirmish to break out. Everyone is an enemy, or, at least, a fairly-unreliable ally. Every part of our daily lives is in danger of exploding. And, like some soldiers, we were drafted into this conflict without any choice of our own.
 
Instead of learning that we need to be ready for war on the battlefield, we adapt to war in our family homes. Every moment has the potential for a skirmish to break out. Everyone is an enemy, or, at least, a fairly-unreliable ally. Every part of our daily lives is in danger of exploding. And, like some soldiers, we were drafted into this conflict without any choice of our own.
 
In physiology terms, the amygdala is responsible for our feelings of hyper-awareness of our surroundings. It’s our fear-response center. To be clear, this isn’t the neurological component that senses our environment, itself – we have separate areas that are responsible for our senses of smell, sight, sound, and so on. In contrast, the amygdala collects the sensory information and rapidly determines it to be significant, threatening, or ignorable.
 
It’s like a rapid biological screening process; if you’ll react to the stimuli or you won’t, and to what extent, is controlled by the amygdala. Big surprise! This part of the brain is known to be overly-sensitive and hyper-responsive in trauma survivors. Heightened amygdala activity is correlated with anxiety disorders. Furthermore, it’s believed to be less sensitive to positive stimuli in Trauma sufferers – meaning, you won’t necessarily pay as much attention to the good things happening around you, because you’re more in-tune with the potential risks.
 
It’s like a rapid biological screening process; if you’ll react to the stimuli or you won’t, and to what extent, is controlled by the amygdala. Big surprise! This part of the brain is known to be overly-sensitive and hyper-responsive in trauma survivors. Heightened amygdala activity is correlated with anxiety disorders. Furthermore, it’s believed to be less sensitive to positive stimuli in Trauma sufferers – meaning, you won’t necessarily pay as much attention to the good things happening around you, because you’re more in-tune with the potential risks.
 
Ignore the good, wait for the bad? Makes sense, sounds like my life.
 
From there, following amygdala activation, the thalamus is engaged. The amygdala signals to the thalamus that something is going on in the environment and the thalamus relays the message to the rest of the brain. It causes the release of your fight or flight hormones and cortisol to engage your entire body in preparation for a rapid escape or conflict.
 
The thalamus also sends signals to the brain stem and to the analytical parts of your brain. In this way, you react with immediate instinctual reflex to avoid the danger thanks to your survival brain. At the same time, your reasonable brain starts processing the stimuli. You aren’t just aroused, now you’re trying to understand the stimuli and make adjustments.
 
Unfortunately, our brain stems are quick to pull the fight/flight/freeze/fawn activation trigger, while our cerebral cortex takes longer to do its duty. This is why we react to triggers much more rapidly than we can process what the trigger is even composed of. Our survival processes are rapid and subconscious. They take priority in order to avoid the source of stress and keep ourselves alive before we try to understand the danger in our higher-level thinking brains. Must continue breathing to deal with the actual fuckery in front of you.
 
Unfortunately, our brainstems are quick to pull the fight/flight/freeze/fawn activation trigger, while our cerebral cortex takes longer to do its duty. This is why we react to triggers much more rapidly than we can process what the trigger is even composed of. Our survival processes are rapid and subconscious. They take priority in order to avoid the source of stress and keep ourselves alive before we try to understand the danger in our higher level thinking brains. Must continue breathing to deal with the actual fuckery in front of you.
 
Since Complex Trauma sufferers started practicing their survival responses early in life, during the developmental stages of our brains, we wind up with hyper-responsive survival pathways. Our wiring is different than our peers who grew up in quiet, safe, supporting environments.
 
Plus, thanks to the neglect or abuse we experienced, our emotional centers – also part of the limbic system – are different. When we’re talking about having big, unpredictable, confusing emotional responses in trauma… know that it’s thanks to your hypothalamus being activated in response to external stimuli.
 
This rapid-relay system explains why we’re quick to respond to our environments and also quick to have somewhat explosive emotional responses. It all happens so fast that we’re taking action before our logical brains even get a chance to consider the circumstances.
 
This rapid-relay system explains why we’re quick to respond to our environments and also quick to have somewhat explosive emotional responses. It all happens so fast that we’re taking action before our logical brains even get a chance to consider the circumstances.
 
Next time something rapidly causes you to get overwhelmed and emotional – don’t beat yourself up, Motherfucker. It’s just your brain, working with the best rapidly-detected information that it has at that moment to keep you alive. No need for a shame spiral the next time you snap at a loved one or start crying without understanding the reason.
 
Hey, I’m going to let someone else’s words shine more light on this, so it’s not just my half-assed internet research holding this argument together.
 
Here’s a nice little blurb from a paper I found, titled Considering sensory processing issues in trauma-affected children: The physical environment in children’s residential homes. It comes out of the Scottish Journal of Residential Child Care, published in 2016.
 
 
Children who have been subject to chronic and inescapable abuse may also have general problems with self-regulation, having not been given the safe environment in which to develop any secure sense of self, let alone establish effective internal coping strategies. As such, the child’s more primitive avoidance strategies, such as fight, flight, or freeze may have developed into their predominant response modes (Briere, 2002).
 
Children who have been chronically abused may also have problems re-calibrating their arousal levels contributing to their environmental sensitivity (van der Kolk, 2003). A mechanism that brings these factors together, the Predictive Adaptive Response (PAR), is attracting progressively more research interest, not least because of the long-term pervasive health implications, which have been shown to have lifelong consequences.
 
The PAR is established during early development when neural circuitry and peripheral regulatory systems are programmed to achieve optimal fit with ecological demands. The PAR is described as being like an embedded weather forecast that programs expectations of living conditions. It has survival benefits, but it can be skewed in unhelpful ways by adverse developmental conditions (Evans and Kim, 2012).
 
Children who have experienced a lack of parental warmth, inconsistent and unresponsive parenting, and abuse can be described as suffering from toxic childhood stress (Carroll, Gruenewald, Taylor, Janicki-Deverts, Matthews, and Seeman, 2013).
 
Exposure to toxic childhood stress impacts upon PAR to increase the allostatic load. This in short means that these children are more sensitive to environmental stress and have a greater reaction to it, for a longer period of time. This increased sensitivity to environmental stress has been the subject of much interest in terms of epidemiological impact on physical health and Considering sensory processing issues in trauma-affected children:
 
The physical environment in children’s residential homes shapes development but has been relatively neglected in terms of cognitive and more general psychological development, even though its importance is fairly well established (van Ijezendoorn and Bekermans Kranenburg, 2012).
 
The physical environment of a children’s residential home is the context in which children who have suffered the most serious forms of toxic childhood stress are often removed. It is also the context where their established vulnerabilities give rise to behaviors and emotions that challenge carers and often compound earlier traumas. It should be no surprise that a lot of these children are extremely susceptible to environmental pressures, even those that are objectively quite subtle.
 
It may well be the case that explanations for the way these children present can be found in past events, but those same events have often fundamentally impacted how they perceive and experience the present-day context in which they find themselves.
 
In less academic terms, when it comes to sensory processing and life adaptation skills, our childhood trauma matters. The context of our trauma – the family home – also matters. We’re taught to be on the lookout for danger, and the danger we’re attuned to occurs in our daily environments.
 
This is why certain stimuli might not bother anyone in the room, except you. It’s not because you’re dramatic, difficult, or aiming for attention… it’s because you’ve been consciously or subconsciously taught that something terrible is about to follow. Your peers might not get it, but that’s only because they’ve never had to before.
 
This is why certain stimuli might not bother anyone in the room, except you. It’s not because you’re dramatic, difficult, or aiming for attention… it’s because you’ve been consciously or subconsciously taught that something terrible is about to follow. Your peers might not get it, but that’s only because they’ve never had to before.
And, even more, unfortunately, those personal-danger signals that only affect you? They can be as subtle as they are life-interrupting.
Minute triggers, difficulty concentrating, and asshole responses
 
So, we have rapidly responsive components of our brain contained in the limbic system. They detect stimulation and relay the information to the other parts of our brain boxes, as they perceive danger or safety. I think all of us can understand the connection between feeling unsafe in our early environment and learning to feel unsafe in EVERY environment.
 
Do you ever get the sense that your head seems way TOO finely tuned to everything? Your brain is always on the lookout and the threshold for responding is very low? You don’t seem to filter out the information that your sensory receptors detect, like everyone else? As such, incredibly subtle events never seem to sneak by. You’re incredibly observative and even the tiniest stimulation is enough to upset your train of thinking or throw you into a state of nervous arousal or agitation?
 
Do you ever get the sense that your head seems way TOO finely tuned to everything? Your brain is always on the lookout and the threshold for responding is very low? You don’t seem to filter out the information that your sensory receptors detect, like everyone else? As such, incredibly subtle events never seem to sneak by. You’re incredibly observative and even the tiniest stimulation is enough to upset your train of thinking or throw you into a state of nervous arousal or agitation?
 
For me, this will present as difficulty concentrating and also difficulty not being an asshole.
 
I notice EVERYTHING. Put me in a room and ask me to find the ten differences since the last time I was present – I bet you anything that I’ll get them all – plus two that you didn’t ask for. Set me in a social situation with folks that I know, and I’ll quickly tell you how their vibe is today based on body language, tiny language cues, and some internal, un-namable detection of energy states.
 
My brain has been designed to notice the details because it’s those subtle environmental cues that indicated something was off-kilter in my family home. As such, I’m not particularly good at filtering out noise and concentrating. I’m aware all the time. It can be extremely distracting, and therefore frustrating, to try to compensate for my supersensitivity to tiny details. Pile that on top of dealing with the emergency signals that often throw my entire being into activation… and things happen that I’m not proud of.
 
My brain has been designed to notice the details, because it’s those subtle environmental cues that indicated something was off-kilter in my family home. As such, I’m not particularly good at filtering out noise and concentrating. I’m aware all the time. It can be extremely distracting, and therefore frustrating, to try to compensate for my super sensitivity to tiny details. Pile that on top of dealing with the emergency signals that often throw my entire being into activation… and things happen that I’m not proud of.
 
As far as my difficulty concentrating goes, I have a hard time keeping my eye on the prize when I can’t control my environment very tightly. When something is happening around me, my head isn’t immersed in the paper I’m reading or the project I’m trying to complete.
 
I think (and I know nothing) that this is why many of us Traumatized Motherfuckers are incorrectly or self-diagnosed with ADHD and even autism.
 
We’re so easily thrown off our game because our heads are busier with detecting danger than the higher-level activities we try to engage.
 
We’re so easily thrown off our game because our heads are busier with detecting danger than the higher-level activities we try to engage in. To us, it seems like we can’t control our thoughts and our heads are always scattered. We’re frustrated by trying to complete basic tasks that – usually, at some point, we’ve been easily capable of – but we just can’t seem to do it anymore. We feel overly-sensitive to such a degree that our Inner Critics prompt us to start looking up everything that could be seriously wrong with us. I suspect that this is where the propositions of, “I’m a bit ADD these days” and, “I think I’m somewhere on the spectrum,” come from.
 
Sound like anyone you know? Me too.
 
I try to manage this problematic focus with tight environmental controls. I’ve spoken before about my preference for living and working – locked in my fucking bedroom with very limited sound stimulation and dim lighting. Even then, sounds outside my door or windows will throw me into high alert. And, truly, I’m disturbed to an irrational degree.
 
Extreme agitation and nervous energy flows through my body every time I hear footsteps or cabinets closing, for example. If there’s conversation or whistling outside my window, I’m geared up to erupt. Even though I’m physically separated from the stimulus, I can’t get my shit together when my brain is so distracted. I now realize, this happens because it’s expecting someone to rush through the door and start something. Peace was always a precursor to rapid aggression.
 
Extreme agitation and nervous energy flow through my body every time I hear footsteps or cabinets closing, for example. If there’s conversation or whistling outside my window, I’m geared up to erupt. Even though I’m physically separated from the stimulus, I can’t get my shit together when my brain is so distracted. I now realize this happens because it’s expecting someone to rush through the door and start something. Peace was always a precursor to rapid aggression.
 
If I can’t even concentrate in a tightly closed environment, I’m sure you can deduce… I’m not the sort of person who can study in a library or write in a crowded café. In these circumstances, I’m so distracted by the activities and especially sounds around me, that I can’t accomplish a single thing. As someone who otherwise sits down and hammers out tens of thousands of words in a day, it’s immensely frustrating to be out of my usual working environment and finding that my productivity has been reduced by 90%.
 
This is also why it was so difficult to hold a full-time job in a loud, chaotic environment where people were regularly having conversations all around me, slamming doors, and banging things around the office. My work history has been hugely impacted by the level of unsafe-feeling stimulation in the immediate environment.
 
This is also why it was so difficult to hold a full-time job in a loud, chaotic environment where people were regularly having conversations all around me, slamming doors, and banging things around the office. My work history has been hugely impacted by the level of unsafe-feeling stimulation in the immediate environment.
 
But, outside of things that require deep, purposeful focus… This is ALSO why I hate going places like busy stores, theme parks, and outdoor festivals. There is just too much going on, and my head feels like it’s continually whipping back and forth trying to get a grasp on the environment. It’s why traffic can be so overwhelming. It’s why I have no notifications AND I regularly put my phone on airplane mode before I chuck it across the fucking room the next time it pings. I think it could even be the reason why I’m so ridiculously light-sensitive.
 
My brain doesn’t filter out unnecessary details of my environment, because it finds everything to be necessary signs of imminent danger. As a result, I feel like I have ADD on a nonsensical basis. I worry that I’m broken in the head when I compare myself to others – or past versions of myself.
 
My brain doesn’t filter out unnecessary details of my environment, because it finds everything to be necessary signs of imminent danger. As a result, I feel like I have ADD on a nonsensical basis. I worry that I’m broken in the head when I compare myself to others – or past versions of myself.
 
In my recent living and working environment – hanging at my mom’s house while the world figures itself out – I’ve been crazy-tense and unable to concentrate a lot lately. I’ve been beating myself up over it and trying to fend off this growing agitation for the past several weeks, in particular. It seems like the smallest, stupidest things put my body and brain on high alert and cause an emotional response. This is where my penchant for rapidly slipping into assholish behaviors pops up.
 
Every time my mom sighs loudly, I feel like an angry explosion is coming. Every instance of her banging around the kitchen or pacing throughout the house makes me incredibly tense and nervous. Every day when I’m trying to work and she starts chattering in the background – at me, at the dog, or at herself – I’m so frustrated that I’m ready to blow. I can’t concentrate and I’m .2 seconds away from saying something shitty.
 
I can – and do – admit that I’m not the sunniest person to be around. When I’m stressed, which is often, I’m quick to snap and likely to make brash, unnecessary comments to relieve some of my tension. It’s not cute and I’m not proud of it. But at the end of the day, I think my smart mouth and sarcasm is another form of survival mechanism.
 
When I’m overwhelmed or flooded, the last thing I need is a person trying to carry on a conversation with me. It spells DANGER in my world. I know that I’m not capable of a normal or positive interaction when I’m in a bad place, with my system lit up like a Christmas tree. My brain isn’t sending energy to the logical, thinking compartments that carry on conversations and enjoy socializing, it’s too busy repeatedly sending SOS signals.
 
When I’m overwhelmed or flooded, the last thing I need is a person trying to carry on a conversation with me. It spells DANGER in my world. I know that I’m not capable of a normal or positive interaction when I’m in a bad place, with my system lit up like a Christmas tree. My brain isn’t sending energy to the logical, thinking compartments that carry on conversations and enjoy socializing, it’s too busy repeatedly sending SOS signals.
 
My butthole attitude is even worse if that person is the origin of the stimulation that flooded my system in the first place. In other words, if you’ve been ramping up my internal arousal for an hour and now you have the audacity to come over and speak to me about it, I’m going to rip your fucking head off.
 
At that point, I’m absolutely going to lash out. I will be ornery, negative, shaming, and generally a bitch…. but, somehow try to realize, it’s really in an attempt to protect myself from further discomfort and potential danger.
 
In my head, when I’m getting snappy or outright shitty, the intention isn’t to hurt the other party or ruin the relationship, it’s self-preservation as my lizard brain blares fire alarms. In short, if I can make the party responsible for the original danger-stimulation go away through minor verbal aggression, I’ve achieved my goal. I’ve defended myself. My system can calm down a little.
 
In my head, when I’m getting snappy or outright shitty, the intention isn’t to hurt the other party or ruin the relationship, it’s self-preservation as my lizard brain blares fire alarms. In short, if I can make the party responsible for the original danger-stimulation go away through minor verbal aggressions, I’ve achieved my goal. I’ve defended myself. My system can calm down a little.
 
For me, this is distress intolerance, at it’s ugliest.
 
I’m trying to avoid the aversive stimuli, and now that you’re out of the room – albeit, very angry at me – I have succeeded temporarily in loosening my internal stress valve. This is negative reinforcement if you’re wondering. I’ve escaped the unwanted conditions and my body is rewarding me for it. The risky, anxiety-inducing stimuli are gone. My brain tells me “good job” with a rush of feel-good chemicals.
 
Oh, the beauty of over-stimulation responses.
 
 
 
Continual arousal – from the inside
 
Lastly, I want to talk about something that deserves its own discussion, but I would be remiss not to mention now because it affects a lot of us. Time to chat about the internal experiences that compound our reactions to external stimuli. This is where over-stimulation, distress intolerance, and inner critics collide.
 
So, here’s a new question. Why is it that I always feel so tightly wound? Even if there are no environmental stimuli streaming in, I regularly feel like my system is under pressure and I’m on the verge of imploding.
 
Sometimes, this stimulation isn’t related to events outside of myself but feels as though it’s coming from my internal environment, itself. Trouble is churning in my environment… but that environment is my body, this time. It’s not easy to slow down and acknowledge it, because I would much rather try to avoid it with my usual shitty behaviors – eating, drinking, smoking, working.
 
Sometimes, this stimulation isn’t related to events outside of myself, but feels as though it’s coming from my internal environment, itself. Shit is churning in my environment… but that environment is my body, this time. It’s not easy to slow down and acknowledge it, because I would much rather try to avoid it with my usual shitty behaviors – eating, drinking, smoking, working.
 
When I DO actually sit back and take a look with a fine-toothed comb, the underlying internal stress that I’m feeling is pretty clear. I’m subconsciously working through some time-inappropriate stressors… and I’m judging my experiences.
 
My evaluation of myself, my history, my future, and my sticky feelings are playing a role in my acute environmental analysis… and, as a result, I’m stimulated. I want to GET. AWAY. from the danger.
 
I can’t, because I am the danger. Trauma brain problems.
 
What is the inner stimulation? It’s all those unprocessed memories, ruminating thoughts, and inner critic whisperings, acting as unavoidable stimuli and drumming up the emotional centers that are closely correlated with our survival brains. System activated. Defenses, up. After all, our feelings, our memories, and our perceptions of social unsafety can feel dangerous. We were taught from a young age that they are.
 
What is the inner stimulation? It’s all those unprocessed memories, ruminating thoughts, and inner critic whisperings, acting as unavoidable stimuli and drumming up the emotional centers that are closely correlated with our survival brains. System, activated. Defenses, up. Afterall, our feelings, our memories, and our perceptions of social unsafety can feel dangerous. We were taught from a young age that they are.
 
This is where our real or fictionalized perceptions can override our actual surroundings. This is why we can have a totally chill day, but feel like the entire town is burning down for every moment of it. Difficult to explain to ourselves, impossible to explain to others… easy to beat ourselves up even harder for the seemingly-illogical state of agitation.
 
Here’s another excerpt from the aforementioned paper, Considering sensory processing issues in trauma-affected children: The physical environment in children’s residential homes.
 
Memories of traumatic events can be both explicit and implicit: the former referring to memories that generally stem from what a person consciously thinks about, as in verbal form, whereas the latter is more of an automatic, unconscious memory. During the experience of trauma, biological reactions impact sensory processing and the way in which memories are encoded.
 
Heightened sensory awareness can mean that environmental features, which might otherwise have gone unnoticed, can become powerfully imprinted as associations with traumatic events. For some, this response is encoded as explicit memories where the person can make sense of their responses and understand it through narrative (Briere, 2002; Rothschild, 2000), whereas for others, the traumatic memories can become fragmented into visual, sensory, and emotional pieces causing implicit memories and drives.
 
Such fragmentation can mean that memories appear as disjointed images, physical sensations, and intense emotional reactions (van der Kolk, 2014). The dissociative experiences that often accompany traumatic events can themselves disrupt memory encoding at an explicit level, leading to sensory associations with no accessible verbal narrative. It has been suggested that this is due in part to the reduced activity in Broca’s area during trauma, leaving the memories devoid of any narrative and left in the limbic structures ‘like a somatosensory photograph’ (Koomar, 2009, p. 1) (van der Kolk, 1996b; Ogden, Minton, and Pain, 2006; Rauch et al., 1996; Rothschild, 2000).
 
 
In other words – my own now – our stimulation centers and tendency to feel like we’re drowning insignificant events are further complicated by the processes that underlie the actual formation of trauma brains in the first place. Our inability to cope with an event in the moment and subversion to filing the memory away for attention at a later time.
 
When you have a head full of incomplete, unprocessed memories flying around, it’s no surprise that you’re already feeling highly activated. The internal distress of confusing memories and painful emotions that they dredge up isn’t helping your brain to declutter itself or your body to calm down. You’re already on a mission of avoiding both uncomfortable events.
 
So, it really doesn’t take much from your outside world to sprinkle just a little additional stress and stimulation on the pile and cause that final structural breakdown. All you want to do is escape the negative thoughts and feelings that are coming from deep inside you, deep inside your life history. Instead, you’re trapped with them every day. Now, throw in some outside stimuli to activate your danger signals and cause instantaneous emotional responses… and, boom, you’re ready to combust.
 
So, it really doesn’t take much from your outside world to sprinkle just a little additional stress and stimulation on the pile and cause that final structural breakdown. All you want to do is escape the negative thoughts and feelings that are coming from deep inside you, deep inside your life history. Instead, you’re trapped with them every day. Now, throw in some outside stimuli to activate your danger signals and cause instantaneous emotional responses… and, boom, you’re ready to combust.
 
It’s not your fault. It’s not easy to control. It’s not an indicator of your real personality.
 
It’s all a function of trauma, of learned adaptive responses to the environment that shaped you, and of your brain’s attempts at survival.
 
 
 
 
Wrap up
 
Alright, Traumatized Friends, this has been an introspective and retrospective look at over stimulation. Why do we feel like loaded guns? Why is it so hard to concentrate? Why are we so sensitive?
 
It’s just a Trauma Brain, doing what it does best. Trying its hardest to predict the future and keep you alive based on your history of past experiences.
 
Maybe those experiences seem subtle and unimportant from an objective perspective, but your head has wisely correlated seemingly-inert stimuli with the events that immediately followed. It’s animal behavior, at its most basic level. And it’s actually incredibly cool.
 
Just… not when you can’t concentrate enough to get through 2 pages of a book or explode at your significant other like a fucking asshat for chewing the wrong way.
 
The next time you’re feeling irrationally frustrated, flooded, or agitated, try not to beat the shit out of yourself if you can. You’re only adding more fuel to the fire with additional negative thoughts. Just try to take a pause, calm your lizard brain with any grounding techniques you may have, and make time to process or remove any accessible stimuli. Lighten your system’s load. Create a better environment for your hyperaware brain.
 
And try to enjoy the quiet, peaceful moments when no one is trying your last nerve – quite literally.
 
I’m going to go sit in some fucking SILENCE now.
Neshteruk, CD, Mazzucca, S, Østbye, T, Ward, DS. The physical environment in family childcare homes and children’s physical activity. Child Care Health Dev. 2018; 44: 746– 752. https://doi.org/10.1111/cch.12578
Sensory processing sensitivity. Wikipedia. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sensory_processing_sensitivity
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