by J Bradley O | Oct 30, 2020 | Complex PTSD Healing, CPTSD Survivor Stories, Mindfulness
Reading Randi’s post, How to Stop the Cycle of Abuse (September 18, 2020), I was deeply moved by the level of insight and heart. Had those who raised me understood even one of her important points, my childhood would have greatly improved. Given the poignancy of...
by Kathy C | Oct 23, 2020 | CPTSD and Inner Child Work, CPTSD Survivor Stories, Dissociation and CPTSD, Guest Contributor
The Beginning I know now that D.I.D. systems arise to keep certain experiences and feelings separate from normal consciousness. The alters or aspects of my mind that hold my trauma are unique to my childhood abuse experiences. Each of us with a dissociative disorder...
by Randi | Oct 21, 2020 | Complex PTSD Healing, CPTSD, CPTSD and Inner Child Work, CPTSD and Narcissistic Abuse, CPTSD and PTSD, CPTSD Survivor Stories, Family Estrangement, Guest Contributor
If you’ve been reading my posts, you know that I talk a lot about awareness and acceptance. They are crucial for healing from trauma, and they are crucial to properly advocate for your child. My husband was able to get the help he needed to get sober when he closed...
by Chris Prange-Morgan | Oct 9, 2020 | ACEs, Attachment Trauma, CPTSD, CPTSD Survivor Stories, Hypervigilance, Mindfulness, Outer Critic, Trauma-Informed
Sometimes raising a child with developmental trauma feels like drowning. During the pandemic, the usual lifelines of educational and community support are decreased or absent, and many parents are left feeling suffocated and alone. Our son spent two years languishing...
by J Bradley O | Oct 7, 2020 | CPTSD, CPTSD Survivor Stories
As the sun rises here on the porch of the homeless shelter, the house’s cat ambles up beside me. I scratch and caress her head. Her silky black fur seems too soft for a cat. She purrs and nuzzles my hand. She also wants to be fed. If we traded places, would...
by Alice Kenny | Oct 2, 2020 | ACEs, CPTSD Survivor Stories, Guest Contributor
As a child, I lived in dread that something would set my mother off and she’d fly into a violent rage, unleashing a torrent of physical abuse. There never was any reason for the abuse. There didn’t have to be. Something would invariably infuriate my mother. I don’t...
