For the life you should have had

I think of you often.

The life you should have lived. Who you would have become.

But didn’t.

We looked alike — back then. I was younger.

You were murdered at ten-years-old. You died right next to me — by a monster.

I never understood why. Still don’t.

We were so young back then. You had a confidence about you that I lacked at my eight-years-old.

I didn’t understand – until it was too late.

They wrestled us both to the ground.

I tried to tell you to let them do what they wanted. It had happened to me many times. I knew to play robot.

I remember turning my head. My eyes were pleading.

Don’t fight them! It makes it worse.

You didn’t stop fighting.

He got mad. He hurt you more.

Then you stopped.

I saw it all.

After — You laid sprawled on the dirt, unseeing eyes staring into the cerulean sky. Naked. The memory etched into my brain forever.

It should never have happened.

He just left you there, dusted himself off and started shouting and swearing. He went crazy, and tried to go for me too.

My monster stopped him.

The monsters put you in that black garbage bag, tied it and left you in the stifling heat.

After I was forced away, I couldn’t help looking back to see if you had tried to get free. They wouldn’t let me see but I managed one eye through a tight hand over my face.

You never moved.

I screamed at them to help you.

I was hysterical by seeing you in that black garbage bag. Like you were trash that needed to be thrown away.

We had just played a game. I wanted to play more. I couldn’t understand what had happened.

I wanted to know you were okay.

I guess part of me knew — even back then, that your life had ended.

The national newspaper put your picture on the front page. Your face on milk cartons.

No one believed the eight-year-old me, when I tried to explain what happened. My words wouldn’t come. It was as if my voice couldn’t speak those words about what happened to you — and to me.

Yet, I lived. I’m still alive — decades later.

Your life ended at age ten.

It doesn’t seem fair.

You should have lived. Had your first kiss and slow dance with your first love. Lost your virginity in the back of a truck. Gone through high school and off to college and become someone. You should have had the opportunity to fall in love and get married. Maybe even had your own family someday — if you wanted to.

You should have lived, and I feel deeply sorry that you didn’t.

I was there that day. I couldn’t stop them.

I will never forget you.

I have had the opportunities I spoke of. I have loved, and felt true happiness. I have had the gift of having children. I have witnessed many things.

I have never forgotten you. Instead I have carried you as I experienced life. In some ways I have lived my life because I knew you couldn’t.

I found out recently that your killer was caught, and he hung himself in prison a long time ago. I wish I had found out sooner because the man haunts me in my dreams.

My monster is still out there. He was never caught.

He let me live that day.

I still wonder why.

My name is Lizzy. I’m a trauma survivor, a wife, a mom, a teacher, and an author.

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I wrote this poem a few months ago, drawing from the well of ancient, long-buried feelings about the first time my mom forced my mouth open and poured Dawn dish soap into it. I was four. Although I had received spankings with a variety of objects over the last year (when her new partner introduced physical child abuse to the mix), this was new. As I choked on the pungent combination of soap, snot, and tears, I grappled with confusion and fear. Soapy bubbles of snot popped around my face, and I struggled to breathe. The soap burned my throat and nostrils. My mom, who had never done anything this cruel, tightly gripped the insides of my elbows, screaming at me to stop crying. 

To this day, I am only half sure what I “did” to bring on that previously foreign punishment. I only have a flash of a memory and clues from what came after to guide me in making deductions about what motivated her to unleash a new brand of assault. It was the first time of many. Washing our mouths with soap became a go-to when a hard smack across the face or tightly gripping our cheeks didn’t suffice after we “said something we shouldn’t have.” Sometimes it was a curse word; other times, an opinion. The times when my mom suffocated my opinions stung the most. 

There’s a little part of me that thinks that the first time I “got the soap,” it may have been after I shared my thoughts about her new partner; I didn’t like him and didn’t want him there. I solidly remember saying such while living in the house where I first choked on soap; whether that statement led to my oral “baptism” or not, I will never really know. I only know that time and time again, my words fell silent. The person who should have listened to me and heard me instead again and again gagged me. Had she asked me why I didn’t like him, it may have saved me from nearly a decade and a half of the sexual abuse and mental abuse that he initiated as early as he did the beatings. 

She didn’t ask, though. Instead, she silenced me. I learned to shut myself up, closing off my thoughts and feelings from the world. I sewed them up tightly within, and over the years, I only allowed them to escape when safely veiled beneath the mask of my poetry. 

I learned to suppress the truth of my reality, even from myself. For the next three and a half decades, I downplayed the cruelty of some of the things I experienced. That’s not to say there weren’t parts of me that knew many of those things weren’t right…that they were downright abusive. Of course, I KNEW that. I just couldn’t allow myself to FEEL it for a very, very long time. If you’re reading this from a place of trauma yourself, I suspect you know exactly what I’m saying.

I didn’t want to feel these things for a simple reason: I love my mom. Despite the cruelty of what I just described, I want to emphasize that she’s not a horrible person. She did, however, do some very bad things. Sometimes, even worse, she didn’t always do the things she should have done to protect her kids…like listen to us when we needed her to hear us the most. I have a lot of very strong feelings around those things. Only in recent years have I allowed myself to acknowledge and truly embrace those hard feelings. Those feelings come across strongly in the poem above. There are parts of me that take issue with some of the lines that erupted from me because they feel too binary. I’ve come to learn that life truly is not and does not have to live on a pendulum of sharp swings from one extreme to another. And…despite my hesitation around this “black and white” perspective, I’m keeping those uncomfortable lines in the poem. Those uncomfortable lines are a part of my truth. I need to feel them just as they are so that I can finally work through them and move forward.  

For me, a key part of moving forward lies in putting words to my experiences and accepting my story for what it is. Sometimes I wonder where my ability to string words into powerful phrases originated. I think that maybe it comes from that place within that was time and time again suppressed, choked, and gagged. When I write, I experience a ferocity of feeling, both freeing and terrifying in its ability to help me find meaning in the meaningless. Again and again throughout my life, I have returned to the refuge of my words. Fortunately, there were some things within me that simply couldn’t be silenced. I clung to the life raft of the words no one could take from me. I disguised my feelings in the poetry I wrote relentlessly as a child and teenager, and even sporadically throughout my adulthood, until a year ago when the floodgates opened, and it ALL began pouring out in a river of emotions. These days, I have again begun to write poetry, and I am learning to write my story in a much more direct kind of way. I’m taking ownership of my words and story. We ALL deserve to reclaim the words and the feelings that were taken from us. 

Scrubbed Innocence

You lit a lava fire that blazes in my throat
Its flames engulf me in fear 
They rage, burning the broken bridges
Between then and here 

In silencing my words, you murdered my trust in you
Violent echoes of the past
Color my eyes in lonely shades of blue
Your mutilation of motherhood 
Cast my world in shadows
A violation of my childhood
left me alone, bearing too much to handle

You suffocated my sense of safety
Left me drowning in my tears
Instead of saving me from my hell
You trapped me in yours

Your cruelty choked my confidence
The scorch of my tears ran through rivers of snot 
You scrubbed away my innocence
Nightmares bubbling to the top

You stood center of some of my darkest hours
You were supposed to be my soft place
You were supposed to be my mother
Instead, I’m left with smoldering embers of an unnamed guilt
The parts of you that loved me
No longer felt

I’m still choking on your brutality
Buried beneath suffering remembered
Your conscience stands empty
After all that I endured, after all the pain you rendered

Photo by Alex Shute on Unsplash

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

I don’t always feel hopeful or strong.

Abandoned insecurities masquerade as anxiety
Splintering me into a million shards                                     
I seek safety in an impossibility                                           
A home to isolated and shattered parts                      

The weight of my sadness                                               
Sits idly at their feet until they kick it away           
Severed connection to nothing but loneliness                 
An open rejection of my pain

Forbidden feelings cast love in violence             
Attached to nothing but despair                         
Neglected needs gone cold, I suffer in silence     
Shadows of comfort stripped bare

Choking on my emotions                                                     
I live in desperate loneliness                                 
Where I roll through the motions                                   
That ride a wave of emptiness               

I stand alone in alienated isolation                         
Handing out pieces of unsanctioned love                           
I stand apart from the separation                                   
On this side of never enough

I hurl my love into an open pit and listen for it to land
Wait for the earth to swallow it                                       
Like water soaked up by the sand

This is the truth of abandonment                                       
A malignant curse coated in disgust                         
These are the scars of misaligned attachment         
Raw, gaping, and unversed in trust

My heavy emptiness stands unhealed by time         
There’s only one thing in life that’s permanent and it’s not life                                                                                   
My worth lies untouched by love                                         
A shadow of myself hides beneath the emptiness
Where it is lost between too much and never enough

If you’ve read anything else I’ve written, you may have noticed a strong undercurrent of hope and strength woven within my reflections. Unfortunately, I don’t always feel hopeful or strong. At times, I am crushed by the weight of my pain. The words above capture a jagged sliver of the darkness that sometimes brings me to my knees. As I heal and grapple with tending to my long-ignored attachment wounds, I am furious and gutted by grief. A few steps into my healing journey, I am learning to really feel. The pain was always there, clinging to me like a soaked shirt on wet skin.

Of course, I felt it to a degree, but not like this. The universe has cranked up the volume of my emotions. Sharp lines and vibrant colors have replaced the blurriness that once robbed my vision of clarity. I see my life through new eyes. It’s simultaneously blindingly beautiful and mercilessly gut-wrenching. Not that long ago, I couldn’t feel what I didn’t have in my life. Now I feel it all. I feel all of what I never had, and I hate it. I hate the canyon of loss it has carved into my soul. I hate it even more that my therapist is right when she reminds me, “the only way out is through.” I don’t want to listen to her because I know it means embracing this pain and feeling the burn of its raw rage and gut-churning grief. How can there possibly be more pain? And yet there is.

It’s unfair that so many of us live with these deep wounds that can only heal by being opened again. If you’re reading this and you relate, hugs to you. Then again, if you’re battling an insecure attachment style, you might not want one anyway. Or maybe you want a hug, but are terrified of the implications. It’s one of those things where if you know, you know. I’m not making light of the destruction created by these wounds; I’m simply pointing out that they are the gift that keeps giving and these “gifts” suck. The stupid things don’t have a return policy; they are ours to carry. It’s infuriating. I’m not going to sugarcoat it; this is a crap deal, and we didn’t do anything to deserve this. We have every right to feel the way we do, whether it’s rage, sorrow, denial, or an unappetizing stew of all these feelings.

Many of us find ourselves suffocating beneath the unforgiving weight of this heavy emptiness. Unfortunately and fortunately, even though we may often feel alone, we are not. As I mentioned in my article, “The Club We Never Asked to Join,” many people share similar experiences and feelings. Thanks to the way our traumatic experiences have disfigured our ability to connect without fear, we may doubt that we can be loved and that it is safe to love others. Love can feel like the riskiest feeling of all. Recently, I realized that I’m terrified of embracing love because in my mind, it so often comes with strings and/or a price. This discovery of my distorted thoughts about love ignited my rage. It also solidified my commitment to doing everything I can to heal the wounds I’ve carried for decades.

Although our strength and hope are at times submerged, it doesn’t mean they’re not there. They are there. If they weren’t there, we wouldn’t be here right now. We’ll get through this. We always do. I have to think that when our wounds heal this time, thanks to the tender love we give them, the scarring will not carry the sting that it started with. I also believe that we will come out the other side with a relieved and much-earned smile on our faces. Mine will be a little bit cocky because I just can’t help it. Love has its place in the world, but sometimes it’s okay to be fueled by the fumes of our rage. I will heal this gaping, bloody abyss because I’m irate and I’m too stubborn not to at least try. I hope you do as well.

Photo by CHUTTERSNAP on Unsplash

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

There is a game afoot! It is there lying in wait for the next time you do something or act a certain way that mirrors an old pattern from the past. It is ready to rise up again and get you to turn on yourself in a way that you have been trained to do. Like a marionette on strings, you will hop to another’s tune, and move in the same way that you have been taught and habituated to react. Except now you are the one pulling the strings and are the puppet herself. You are in both roles now.

Oftentimes, the way in which we were made to jump through hoops as a child or with a long-standing abuser or abusive parent, guardian, sibling, or toxic extended family structure remains intact as we get older. Complex trauma does not let go of old wounds, patterns, and the sickening games we were made to play out with dysfunctional others just because we reach adulthood.

If you are dealing with CPTSD you know all too well the layered onion, and seemingly endless areas of wounding and places within that hold trauma. When repetitive abuse occurs, especially as a child, the entrenched patterns created by toxic abusers can be a minefield to navigate for the rest of one’s life. Throughout life, triggers and old patterns arise that throw us into flashbacks, dissociative episodes, and long periods of mental and physical anguish. Help is never quite sufficient, thorough enough, readily available, or affordable. Any stop-gap measure we might reach for never quite alleviates suffering or fixes what is wrong. The band-aid approach is never enough to heal the wounds faced in a day, a month, or a life. They become frustratingly inadequate, and a reminder of how broken, unhealable, and like an unfixable project we feel.

A child, who has endured and survived repetitive and long-term abuse and neglect is set up to fail. Used repeatedly in an abuser(s) game of self-interest and exploitation. A way to gain power and control over another because of their own feelings of insecurity, inadequacy, and mental instability. But for an adult to do this to another – let alone a child, and let alone their own child, is an inexcusable act. Yet, the child is the one that will carry all of the trauma, the wounds, shame, and self-hatred, and find no forgiveness for herself/himself even into adulthood. The child will internalize all the hatred, abuse, game-playing, hoop-jumping, neglect, unworthiness, undeserving, insecurity, and inadequacy as their own – and replay it for a lifetime. This is the perpetrator’s intention, however, to project all their own toxic shame, unhealed wounds, unaccepted parts, and places held and hated within them to those outside of themselves and onto their chosen target.

As a child – the first instincts are that of a wholly innocent being learning from those that are in charge of her/his welfare, growth, and healthy development. The child is a sponge – taking in what it is given. Learning from those in their immediate sphere. This child is not chosen because she/he is bad or wrong or deserved to be used and exploited – this is never or will ever be the fault of a child. We must go back to this place of innocence, of our wholeness at birth, of our deserving, our worthiness, and our already loved, loveable, and loving state of being. This is how we were born and how we came into the world. It is not gained through religion, spiritual practices, societal or cultural norms, or another’s determination that deems us so. Innocence and wholeness are the authentic nature of any newborn – this is your authentic nature – your intact, universally-given, and granted way of being. Take away all else that you think you are, or all that you have covered yourself in, or added to your being, and go back to the simple truth of who you are. Drop everything that you have tried to add to make yourself more, and see that you are already imbued with this truth of wholeness and completeness, and are absolutely and unconditionally loved.

The problem begins when the truth of our wholeness and innocence is consistently skewed by another, especially by a parent or caregiver, and then reinforced by the wider circle of familial enablers, and all those wishing to stay safe from attack themselves. Over time, the campaigns of abuse and being projected upon, gaslit, scapegoated, and traumatized create patterns within the child that become entrenched. How is a child’s mind supposed to cope with such strain and abuse, and the cognitive dissonance and callous senselessness by those that are supposed to love, protect, and care for them? A child’s psyche will eventually break under the pressure of abuse, and fractures as it jumps through endless hoops trying to find solid ground and a space or person who is safe and trustworthy but instead finds that safety and acceptance are a lost cause. In order to survive, the mind breaks off into fragments to hold parts of itself safe, and far away from terror and obliteration, while other parts become the bully, or the severe inner critic mimicking the abuser, and turning on herself/himself. The idea that any child is subjected to a home where they must endure and survive their own parents and family to develop and grow is an unconscionable thought. Yet, it is an unspoken, unaided, and unattended reality in so many households. It is no wonder the patterns developed as a child and reinforced within the family system and extended enabler system, become the abusive ghosts that follow us throughout life.

Habituated – practiced, addicted, seasoned, veteran, hardened, experienced, dependent, accustomed, inclined, hooked – these are all synonyms for the word habituated. It is clear the power that repetitive abuse and neglect have over another, and the way the mind, body, and heart adapt to handle the pressure and cognitive dissonance of manipulation and abusive encounters, especially by parents, caregivers, loved ones, spouses, family, and extended interpersonal groups.

We end up abusing ourselves, jumping through our own hoops and over our own created hurdles. We end up setting up similar games that we can play out in our day-to-day lives, and then if we fail or do not do it exactly as we think it should be done, we then become our own bully or abuser. We may not realize the negative self-talk and berating critical voice as an old abuser but if we look and listen again we may find a familiar narrative.

Your inner critic re-affirms untruths about yourself that you have internalized to be true. Athena Laz, “The Deliberate Dreamer’s Journal”

The inner critic can hold space as a gentle voice, as an impatient and judgmental voice, or come in full throttle as a severe and chronically abusive inner critic. These changes, or degree of severity can ebb and flow or it can be stuck on one consistent volume. This is the voice, including the language used and the games being played that we need to open to, come closer to, and really begin to listen to, to be able to unwind and reveal the looping narrative at play. Clarity in this practice is key to unlocking the power and control that this negative and repetitive pattern has over you.

STEPS TO REPATTERN OLD PATTERNS

1. The first step is just beginning to listen; to become aware of that inner toxic noise that comes in to berate, abuse, judge, or tell you that you are wrong, unworthy, or dole out other negative self-talk. Begin to journal what is arising, and what you are beginning to hear and see as ridiculously judgmental, over the top, and far from a loving voice. Get to know this recurring narrative, the sound, and tone of voice, and breathe deeply into your courageous and willing action to face, understand, and “out” this old foe that lives hidden and resolute in the dark corners of your mind.
2. The second step is to redirect negative self-talk in a new way. As the inner critic’s voice becomes clearer to you – begin to develop a positive inner coach – with a firm but fair tone and voice. If you played sports or had a teacher or other adult in your life that was a positive influence link into this constructive, supportive, and motivating way of being that you admired and how this helped you in your life. Foster and nurture an inner coach within you that stands in her own power, is confident and sometimes tough with you, but inherently and unconditionally loves you and wants the best for you. As the inner critic comes online, and you are swayed to take up your place in the old habituated pattern – bring your inner tough-loving coach in to stand up to the negative inner critic and say “NO! I will not play this game with you. I have had enough!” Allow your inner coach to stand in this place with you and guide you lovingly, and firmly through the experience, standing up to the voice of criticism and the deep trough of addicted reacting and negative feedback. As you stand up to, become clearly aware of, and face the inner critic this negative voice will begin to diminish over time. Allow your inner coach to direct you and bring you back to yourself, and back to a loving, safe, and protected place – grounded, and free from the negative patterning and toxic inner voices. Write down the language of your loving inner coach. Write down statements that you can reach for when old negative self-talk arises or when you notice the critical voice in the background of your mind – dictating softly what it does not want you to hear and become wise to. Be prepared and ready for the patterns that will cycle back and try to exploit your habituated mind and bring you back to the patterns of the past. Get ready to overturn the apple cart and interrupt the old voices and patterns trying to get you back into the game.
3. The third step is to find the toxic games you were forced to play as a child. Any games or hoops you were made to jump through by an abuser or others, and then find it within yourself today. Where are you still playing out that role or game? Where are you overriding your own ability to love yourself fully because of this seasoned pattern that is still replaying in your life? Where are you abandoning your own sense of self-acceptance and the ability to see yourself as whole, loveable, worthy, and deserving of being loved? If as an adult you find yourself feeling to blame for mistakes made by others or anything that goes wrong you may have been the subject of scapegoating or gaslighting. These patterns once seen and faced can begin to shift with your loving awareness, and your inner coach’s help to let go of the feelings of self-blame, shame, and guilt for all that is not yours. Another example could be if you had to take on the responsibility of your parents and family – overextending yourself to fix problems, secure love, and acceptance, survive, and parent your parents. This could manifest in your adulthood as someone who takes on the responsibilities of those that shirk their responsibilities – triggered by the feelings of having to survive, try and make things better, more organized, and less overwhelming and tolerable for you to exist in.

Overriding old negative patterns will take time. But as you move through and encounter these moments you will find that the love that supports you in this process – your own loving heart that wants to advise, support, motivate, and change old habits will become stronger than the old pattern put on you and adapted for your survival. It will become clear that it is no longer what you want to metabolize in your daily life or hold as a way of being. You will find yourself becoming more self-empowered, and unwilling to put up with nonsense, criticism, and negativity, and become focused on loving yourself from the inside out and being treated with care, safety, love, and respect. You are habituating your own loving patterns now and seeing the old hardened and unyielding ways of being unraveling and falling away.

EMBRACE YOURSELF

as the one that has been with you your whole life,

as the one who wants to love you more than anything else,

as the one who knows you best,

as the one who can understand your pain,

as the one who has deep compassion,

for all that you have endured,

as the one who feels the inner ache,

and wants to hold and soothe,

as the one who holds the key to your freedom.

Give way now to your own loving hand

outstretched and eager to lead you back home

to yourself,

and to your own loving heart.

Drop all that you believe about yourself

good, bad, or indifferent.

Drop all of the ways in which you judge yourself,

all of the ways in which you say you have wronged or are wrong,

all of the ways in which your abilities and life have not measured up.

Give way to a new space of allowing yourself to be just as you are.

Can you accept this?

Can you see yourself as whole and complete in all that you do?

Can you give up picking yourself apart,

and tearing yourself to shreds

because you think you have erred in some way?

It is time sweet one, to accept all that you are,

all that you have been and will ever be.

It is time to stand in your wholeness,

with your imagined flaws, imperfections, and all.

It is time to walk with head held high,

with chest raised, shoulders back,

breathing in and out fully and confidently.

It is time to stand in the space of self-empowerment,

of deserving, worthiness, of safety and spaciousness,

even if you do not yet believe it fully.

It is time to play the game your way,

to embrace, love and become all that you are

at this moment, in this place and time.

There is nothing else that needs to be added,

nothing to fix or figure out.

There is no new trauma project to take on and heal,

no more internal changes you need to make,

except for the one that makes you a friend to yourself,

and the practice

of wholeness,

self-acceptance and self-loving actions.

There will still be times when you falter,

and fall back into old patterns,

and play out others’ games,

using yourself as the scapegoat or whipping post,

but this will become your reminder

of what no longer serves you,

and you can step back into your practice,

and your game of loving yourself unconditionally

as the way of relearning your way back home

to your deserving, worthy and loving heart.

_Sunny Lynn, OMC, HeartBalm

To read or explore more please reference this publications resource list:

• _Athena Laz, “The Deliberate Dreamer’s Journal”
• _Sunny Lynn, OMC, HeartBalm

For other helpful articles, tools, and topics visit the HeartBalm Archives, and for healing-guided meditations please visit the HeartBalm Meditation Toolbox on the home page. To subscribe or to find out more information go to the HeartBalm website.

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

It’s that time of the year – scary ghost stories, eerie face masks and costumes, and tricks and treats. Yet while it feels natural to be with the frightening images and ghost stories that come with “All Hallows Eve” for those with complex trauma every day is filled with recurring horrors. We deal with the ghosts of the past that rattle us awake in our sleep, haunt our thoughts, and frighten us even in the light of day; facing zombie-like apparitions waiting around every corner of our world, and a looming fog of confusion filling our mind and body – obscuring clarity and truth. These things are all too real and just a part of living with CPTSD.

Those who have experienced repetitive trauma as a child, and now live with complex trauma and the associated fallout of CPTSD as an adult, know only too well the voices that come at any time of the day or night to howl old stories and negative thoughts into our ears. The internalized voices and old images, now larger and scarier, are on repeat to remind us of the terrifying experiences, hurts, and dangers we endured and survived.

Complex trauma can seem like a rolling snowball – gathering bulk and speed as life goes on. It picks up every hurt, pain, slight, abusive statement, action, and deed along the way, and as old wounds are triggered a present-day trauma experience is added to the growing mass of dread, anxiety, hopelessness, and futility. Adulting with CPTSD feels like something else we must endure and survive.

To read more about CPTSD please see my article at HeartBalm titled, “Courage, Self Love, and CPTSD.”

A child experiencing repetitive abuse will survive by developing skills like hypervigilance and hyper-attunement. These skills along with longstanding subconscious narratives, and stored physical trauma come together in adulthood that for many, makes everyone a threat to some degree. Walking into a room filled with people can be an overwhelming experience yet living in the world means you have to participate with others and being in a crowded room is something that must be faced. Hypervigilance in these situations will kick into gear and your sense of who is or is not trustworthy or safe becomes your secret superpower scanning the room for threats and exit strategies.

Survivors of abuse and neglect are constantly haunted by the ghosts of the past – triggered in broad daylight by the actions of others and the fallout of everyday events. Each day is a ride through a haunted house to some degree – never knowing what is around the next corner, or who will alert or startle us triggering old or new wounds. As an adult survivor of childhood and repetitive trauma it can still feel as if you are being followed, stared at for longer than is comfortable, at risk of being hurt again, stalked, targeted, used and abused, or exploited; always seeing those eyes and feeling the same ominous approach of an abuser looking back at you in a stranger’s glance or move towards you.

When you are feeling more empowered and safe it is easier to be more comfortable in your surroundings and with meeting new people or being in crowded situations. However, for many with CPTSD there are times when you have been triggered, are experiencing a flashback, are dissociating, or are even in a depressed or anxious state being out amongst others can be difficult to manage. In these troughs of insecurity, which can last days or even months or years, our brains tend to see everyone from the perspective of danger. If you look more closely, it may even seem that everyone looking at you has the same eyes and air as your abuser(s), and those eyes follow you everywhere. In these dark times the haunting from those childhood circumstances, the manipulation, lies, criticisms and judgments, and collective abusive trauma patterns will create stories in our minds about those we encounter that align with and affirm the feeling that we are still under attack, and everyone is a threat. The familiarity of those eyes that seem to watch us no matter where we are can keep us hiding, adhering only to the necessities of life, and making quick trips into public places before we head back home or to a safe space because nothing feels safe or secure. David Whyte, author, and poet describes hiding in a way that bears out the beauty of how reacting to life, and surviving in order to thrive is universal, unique, necessary, and ok. The following is an excerpt from his book “Consolations.”

Hiding is a way of staying alive. Hiding is a way of holding ourselves until we are ready to come into the light. Hiding is one of the brilliant and virtuoso practices of almost every part of the natural world: the protective quiet of an icy northern landscape, the held bud of a future summer rose, the snowbound internal pulse of the hibernating bear. Hiding is underestimated.

_David Whyte, excerpted from “Consolations”

It is not uncommon to be triggered by someone that we pass by, meet, or speak with that is not our abuser(s) but we still feel threatened in some way, see, and react to them as we would our abuser(s). These are the moments when pausing to notice that they are not the ones that hurt us or zombies from our past are important to be clear about. We must be brave enough to see with new eyes, an opening heart and from a fresh perspective in order to begin to heal ourselves, develop healthy relationships with others and find ways to tame our haunted bodies, mind, and soul. It is also an opportunity to remind yourself that the past is gone, the future is not here yet, and you are standing firmly in the present moment. Becoming aware of the Now moment is a great way to ground yourself, take up space fully in your body and stand firm in your power. These are the moments to begin rebuilding your boundaries, embracing your worth to see things truly, stopping negative and critical inner thoughts and stories, and bringing light to the dark places and scary apparitions that still haunt you; to see them dissipate in the light of awareness, self-love and acceptance, power, and truth.

Additionally, it can be frustrating as an adult to try and manage the negative scripts arising in our thoughts and stay focused on positive approaches such as affirmations, spiritual and healing modalities, concentrating on things that are light, good and help keep you focused on trust, self-love, abundance, gratitude, and positive outcomes. Yet, much of the time the hope of these constructive efforts and ways of being in your life falls apart in the midst of another flashback, dissociative episode, abusive situation, or encounter with another person. It feels foolhardy to keep hoping and stay positive when things always end up right back in the scary hollows of an old world. This triggers years of deep disappointment and pushes us into the dark realm of learned helplessness.

For more on this subject please refer to HeartBalm’s recent article “The Dark Chasm of Disappointment & Learned Helplessness.”

The subconscious mind of the trauma survivor hides and holds the old trauma patterning, the ancient and fearful fragments of the past that keep us chained in the present. The patterns lie just under the surface of our conscious thoughts and create a ripple effect that expands into our present circumstances. These subconscious reverberations of childhood trauma and the continued layering of abuses are still at play in our world today – hence the feeling of being haunted, stalked, and constantly under threat.

Saying positive affirmations such as “I am loved” or “I am safe” can sound wonderful but to the subconscious mind or inner child who does not feel loved or safe the affirmation will be rejected as a false statement. The affirmation is blocked at the subconscious level and cannot be accepted or assimilated. There is a simple way of self-hypnosis that can facilitate the efficacy of positive statements and affirmations by being aware of resistance and the hard spots, and softening the lead-in language such as: “I am opening to being loved”, “I am moving towards knowing that I am loved”, “I am learning to feel safe,” or “I am becoming more comfortable and safe in my mind, body, and world.” As you come across affirmations that resonate with you add the lead-in statements to get past the subconscious gatekeeper, and for better integration into your being. Continue repeating these softened statements to yourself. As you feel more loved, safe, or relaxed and open to the positive statements you are working with you can drop the softened preface and repeat “I am loved” or “I am safe” affirmations. Notice if negative thoughts or any resistance arise at this stage. If there is still resistance continue with the lead-ins added until you can fully allow and accept the positive affirmation at each level.

Living with CPTSD can feel like a foreboding darkness is descending over you and your world at times. It can feel unrelenting yet there are moments of integration, healing, love, and transformation. There is so much beauty in the contrast of complex experiences but it is also woven with threads of agony that no one should have to endure yet so many of us do – we carry on and keep going as only seasoned warriors can. As a closing, I am including a poem I wrote that speaks to the ongoing haunting, and endless unwinding dance of complex trauma titled, “The Thread of Agony.”

the thread of agony

lies in the past yet is

pulled along with each moment

winding its way around me

sometimes tripping me up

sometimes leading me forward

the thread of agony

haunts me of broken dreams

loves won and lost

pulls at my fractured heart

and if I pull back

threatens to unravel sanity

the thread of agony

brings me to myself

sometimes I follow

sometimes I run

aching for freedom and truth

all the while winding on endlessly

_the thread of agony, Sunny Lynn, OMC, HeartBalm

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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.

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“An embodied sense of safety requires both the reduction or resolution of cues of danger and the experience of cues of safety.” (Porges & Lewis 2009)

So how do we begin to feel what we know to be true inside and out and vice versa? The autonomic nervous system is the place to start when healing from trauma and long-term chronic stress. Our autonomic nervous influences every aspect of life, it is embedded in our physiology and physical sensations, our social engagement system, it influences our brain, thoughts, perceptions, emotions, and our ability to feel focused and calm.

Healing from complex trauma is lifelong, there will be moments of great insights and times when life seems unbearable and too much to cope with. Learning how to navigate and experience life after trauma is rooted in reclaiming the Autonomic Nervous System.

This system controls and filters communication from our outside world and body, (80% input from our body to our brain and 20% from our brain to our body). These neurobiological connections shape our world and daily experiences, they either connect us and bring us closer together or separate us from ourselves and others. It shapes how we feel and influences how and what we do.

At the center of the autonomic nervous system is the vagus nerve. Dr. Stephen Porges expanded our understanding of the Autonomic Nervous System relating to Chronic/Trauma stress with Polyvagal Theory in the 1990s. At the core of his discoveries and work is the principle of feeling safe and connected which our nervous system is designed to decide for us. However, we can extend deliberate action and extend control over our nervous system states to allow us to make decisions for ourselves and restore balance to our autonomic nervous system.

To help us begin to support and explore this theory, I would like to share a fundamental practice that I encourage my clients and students to incorporate into their daily life as a resource to help repair the nervous system and support healing. This practice is as important as sipping water before you get thirsty. As you already know, when you feel thirsty you are already dehydrated. By implementing this practice you effectively hydrate your sense of safety.

This is the practice of ‘Micro-Moments of Safety’, stopping to acknowledge and feel the truth of ‘safety in a moment. Your nervous system will forever identify threats and dangers following chronic stress and traumatic experiences which is helpful at the right time for our survival. However, this need not be the case, for you in your life today. Deliberately scanning for available true moments of safety in the present moment helps to dial down the ‘survival response system’, fear and anxiety. 


The realization that situations can be very difficult and emotionally overwhelming, without being unsafe. These micro-moments of safety are gentle, subtle reminders to the nervous system stuck in overdrive, that you are in control and that you can discern the threat and danger level. Research shows that to influence positive change in our brains we must pause to absorb positive experiences for at least 30-60 seconds regularly. Taking in the truth of these micro-moments of safety will help to bring change at a physiological level. This conscious and very deliberate action has the power to create profound shifts in your nervous system states. These moments are vital to soothing the survival/stress response and to support the development of new neural pathways, supporting your healing and growth.

To positively change our autonomic nervous system we need to be able to focus and direct our attention. Dr. Andrew Huberman states
“ Memories are hard to erase, however, the emotional load can be lessened”.

The only way one can experience truth is to be truly present, reshaping the past profiles embedded in our nervous system, lessening the load. By choosing to deliberately and consciously take in all that is true about what is basically ok and safe in the present moment regularly, even if it feels difficult, will create change.

Dr. Andrew Huberman’s research has shown that ‘stress and agitation is the entry point to neuroplasticity’ and that this can begin to change the maps of the brain laid down by previous experiences. Reinforcing positive plasticity, to support healing, rather than over learning from passive plasticity. 


Reinforce this process by writing every night about at least one moment when you felt a sense of safety. Write about how it felt within your body to feel safe? What did you feel? and where within did you feel this sense within you? Was it a deep sigh, a softening of the eyes, less tension in your back, shoulders, and neck, did you nod your head? Could you feel a buzz around your body, a loosening of a gripped hand?. How did this truth change your physiological state?. If you like to draw, add a picture, write a poem, create a mantra, journal, and most importantly begin to share your experiences with people who care about you, who know about your struggles and suffering and that may also be a therapist. The more you do to absorb the experience the deeper it sinks into your nervous system and brain and that is when real changes begin to happen to support your healing.

This does not mean that we ignore feeling scared, fearful, anxious, terrified, and afraid, no. This does not mean that we will never experience a somatic or emotional flashback again, no. It means we hold and nurture how we feel while also redirecting our attention to the truth of the moment. Our nervous system is capable of holding the truth of both the past and the present.

‘Our nervous system is capable of holding both moments of safety and moments of survival’.
Deb Dana, Anchored

By deliberating and purposefully redirecting your attention to the truth of now, the intensity of past experiences can begin to lessen. The nervous system is capable of repairing and we can support and influence this in subtle ways like this.

For many this practice may be very challenging at first, that’s actually considered a good thing in learning terms. As a note of helpful reassurance, the nervous system and brain learn from challenging/stressful experiences quicker and better than it does from more comfortable and easier experiences. When a task requires effort and is even slightly challenging, stress chemicals are released. The stress chemical epinephrine/adrenaline is also a neuromodulator and is actually the gateway to neuroplasticity. Repeatedly doing this practice no matter how challenging it may be, will influence your plasticity to adapt in a positive direction. Forming stronger neural connections for safety and connection over time. The important thing to remember is don’t stop when you start feeling good. The brain will continue to grow in the direction of what you focus your attention on.

For many years you may have heard the statement ‘your attention follows your thoughts’. It might better serve us to rewrite this as our thoughts follow our attention. We can focus our attention, on something and away from thoughts. We can use our sensory awareness, our eyes, ears, sense of smell, touch, and taste to take in ‘micro-moments of safety’.

In summary, the keys to this practice are:
Consciously notice a moment of safety that is true and in the present
Focus your attention here for between 30 to 60 seconds
Feel how this feels in your body
Before bedtime recall it in as much detail as possible
Share your experience with someone, even repeat it to your pet or yourself if you don’t feel there is anyone who you trust to share it with.
As a side note
It is also ok to hone in on and recall one significant moment that really stood out for you when you were in a regulated nervous system state.


If you suffer from chronic/ trauma stress, the limbic/survival system of the brain is primed and will continue to ‘make choices for you’ it will focus only on real or perceived threats and dangers, long after the danger and situation have passed. Leaving you feeling trapped and with feelings that are reliving horrible experiences.

‘The nervous system needs the active appearance and experience of cues of safety.’ (Porges 2015)


The body has a profound influence on the brain and when we repair and recruit the autonomic nervous system we can begin to tolerate levels of arousal that may be triggered. This can help to build a greater sense of agency over your physical, mental, and emotional health and open a doorway to recovery. All with deep tenderness and compassion for oneself.

Roseanne Reilly

Advancing your ability to heal and repair your nervous system

https://www.handsoftimehealing.com/intensivecareprogram 

And through all of this messiness and brokenness and trauma
I begin to piece together a more cohesive story of me
I discover forgotten, wounded parts of myself
Sealed into catacombs of silence and submission long ago
Demanding to be heard

I find clues in the unearthing process
A master’s fingerprints
Left behind from the intimate touch of creation
Marks from the tools required to shape the impossible memory-stone
A passionate forcefulness
A fierceness of intellect
An iron will
An impeccable thoroughness
Only I could have done this

I gaze upon my crafted wonders
The beautiful, terrible things that I have built
In order to survive

Retching at the stench of pain and loneliness
Repulsed by my own neediness
I seek out
I excavate
I uncover
I tend to
The softer pieces of myself

And at every turn
There is a reassuring presence
An everlasting fire
A network of fibers
I encounter the unbreakable threads of my own strength
Weaving together lifetime after lifetime
Of my own experience and being
Into a cohesive story of me
A master craftsman
An amateur archaeologist
A cohesive story of me

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.

I wonder daily about life and its peculiarities, the sense of unfulfillment versus stability.  The deep-seated longing but not knowing what it is or where it comes from.  Is it a culmination of reality versus subconscious or simply selfishness and narcissism?  Perhaps a genetically related prone-ness to sensitivity or it is environmental.  I sit and wait for windy days, they don’t come too often but when they do it’s like they take me away too, to another place. I long to feel the wind on my face, it’s a reminder that I am here, alive and it never hurts me the wind even if it’s strong, it always feels so free to me.

Bombardment of and impossibilities that make you want more yet feel less.  Is it possible to sustain without passion or is it age and the surrender to infinite stability of the known?  I often find myself sitting at an open window or door, allowing the breeze to caress my skin to let go and imagine so many possibilities a sense of freedom.  Yet confined to obligations and the pursuit of others’ contentment and happiness.  I wish the wind would take me too, it goes wherever it likes and always comes back, it knows no schedule

I can be happy sometimes too, fleeting those feelings are, yet I often wonder why I can see the sadness in another’s eyes, or pain or aloofness.  Is this a gift that I have or perhaps my own projection to another and it all may be fantasies and illusions in one’s mind? Then the wind may change its path and come back as I long it too.

It always feels free to me, it always allows me a minute, a second an hour, or sometimes two, to be free with it – oh take me with you too.

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.

The windswept the hair from my eyes

One tear streaming down my cheek

I always seem to have goodbyes

Every year every month every week

They fill my head with their lies

When I cry, they turn the other cheek

When I feel this lonely my Willow tree, I hold dear

Every day I climb her branches, for every day I fear

As I grow, so does she, my willow tree

I hold her branches tight and her whispers near

Its ok she whispers my dear

One lone tear streams down my cheek

One day you will be free

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.