Healing Self-Shame | CPTSDfoundation.org https://cptsdfoundation.org The Foundation for Post-Traumatic Healing and Complex Trauma Research Thu, 26 Feb 2026 18:31:56 +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 Healing Self-Shame | CPTSDfoundation.org https://cptsdfoundation.org 32 32 The Dance of Life https://cptsdfoundation.org/2026/03/17/the-dance-of-life/ https://cptsdfoundation.org/2026/03/17/the-dance-of-life/#respond Tue, 17 Mar 2026 10:00:00 +0000 https://cptsdfoundation.org/?p=987502840
There she strolled, with a designed grace, one foot forward after the other, pushing, dispensing, oozing that life’s source, that vibrant something. Something spoken, wildly, emboldened to dare tell, to call out the imperative want and hunger that is human nature.

She sauntered, conscious and unconscious, enacting the full inner drama that spoke through a designed expression. That song, that drama, elicits a response in others to meet her needs and desires. That something worn, adorned, and polished may have been the obvious outward expression, yet it is a duality of messaging.

Her image was received by a complex mind, which resurrected a reciprocal wish. The wish to see in others what we want to see, and to believe what we want to think is accurate and real.

From a physical adornment in attire, it is an inner expression, a statement, a driving inner hunger, and an impression sought to tell the outside world of her needs. That energy and goal to be seen, noticed, and hungered for in design to our wish “to be esteemed.”

Mommy and Daddy look at me! Watch this! An early need to receive the affirmation that we are worthy of esteemed attention from the world of others, outside of our solitary self-awareness. Feed me! Our outer expression of design cries out to the world around us. Is the design that she wears, which elicits the returned hunger from others toward her, a simple picture of what she needs? Is that the authentic reaction for which she hungers? Or is it a desperate plea to capture and cure an esteemed eye from others upon oneself?

A learned substitute that feeds a deep, driving inner sense of feeling unfulfilled. Our early-life attempts to find fulfillment in nature’s precious love are rooted in the authentic esteem of others.

It is always a symbolic dance of life’s energy, trying to meet the unconscious needs from a shortage of esteem from outside voices in our world. Often, we are unaware of what, why, or how our expression to be seen by others is generated. It is especially true of our youth, and we often glide obliviously through life, never understanding why or how we express ourselves.


According to Psychoanalytic and other personality theories, character is designed in our unconscious. We dance an expression for the world, a symbolic regurgitation of met and unmet needs. Symbolism is the language of the unconscious as well as our pulsing needs, which our unconscious mind knows and expresses to the world. We see ourselves through sizing up who we are in the mirror.

The ideal self, the desired self, has innate needs to be fulfilled. The symbolism that emerges from our inner depths guides and pushes us to be expressive with others in an effort to be seen. We act to heal our masked inner wounds, struggling to quench our need for outside esteem or positive regard from others. Our behavior is a colorful mosaic, searching for acceptable avenues to meet our need for esteem in the world.


Hopefully, this dance of ours reaches a plateau where we begin to view our inner need to achieve a state of “self-love.”

We find inner praise and self-esteem for our authentic self. Thus, we strive to achieve a self that is far less controlled by unseen and unclear forces. Working toward self-actualization, self-love, and self-acceptance becomes our chosen pathway that minimizes our incessant drive to act out in ways we do not comprehend.

The Dance of Life
Originally titled: Esteem from the Outside World
By Jesse B. Donahue © 2023

Photo Credit: Unsplash

Guest Post Disclaimer: This guest post is for educational and informational purposes only. Nothing shared here, across CPTSDfoundation.org, any CPTSD Foundation website, our associated communities, or our Social Media accounts, is intended to substitute for or supersede the professional advice and direction of your medical or mental health providers. The thoughts and opinions expressed are those of the guest author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the CPTSD Foundation. For further details, please review the following: Terms of Service, Privacy Policy and Full Disclaimer

]]> https://cptsdfoundation.org/2026/03/17/the-dance-of-life/feed/ 0 The Hidden Legacy of Relational Trauma: Breaking Free from Codependency and Complex PTSD https://cptsdfoundation.org/2026/02/19/the-hidden-legacy-of-relational-trauma-breaking-free-from-codependency-and-complex-ptsd/ https://cptsdfoundation.org/2026/02/19/the-hidden-legacy-of-relational-trauma-breaking-free-from-codependency-and-complex-ptsd/#comments Thu, 19 Feb 2026 11:00:00 +0000 https://cptsdfoundation.org/?p=987502674 I have often been asked why I am an outspoken writer, willing to tackle thorny and difficult issues well beyond my usual scope of mystical interest. In an era of stifling correctness that governs much of the media, it would be career-savvy to “stay in my lane.” So why do I speak out? As with most human phenomena, the answer lies in my genetic wiring as a free thinker, unabashedly opposed to groupthink, and my personal history shaped by neglect, abandonment, and relational wounds. The ideals that drive me are love, freedom, and truth; any attack on these standards feels like an existential crucible.

Those in the complex trauma community, especially myself, are well aware that childhood interpersonal relationships set the stage for toxic patterns like codependency—experiences that echo and intensify those childhood violations of safety and worth.

The Onset of Abuse and Humiliation

My own childhood was marked by toxic parenting and relational trauma, beginning at age 6 when my mother remarried. Soon after, life became a living nightmare as I endured the hardships of neglect, physical and emotional abuse, displacement from home, and a dysfunctional family history. These violations of dignity and safety created deep anguish, instability from neglect, issues with self-worth, fear of abandoment and shame for being who I am.

Confronting the Pain and Building Resilience

Withdrawal, hypervigilance, and distrust are core elements of CPTSD that linger into adulthood.

I first wrote about these experiences in the third person to keep some emotional distance. Facing them directly now shows how this long-lasting relationship trauma shaped my ability to bounce back, along with a practical side that wanted to heal my emotional wounds.

Toxic Patterns  

Strangely, in my line of work, I frequently encounter women—and men—who seem determined to prove they are unworthy of healthy, reciprocal love. They repeat cycles of painful relationship choices, often returning to dynamics that echo earlier wounds. Because early life shapes how you view love. While it is tempting to simply blame “a bad childhood,” unresolved CPTSD frequently plants the seeds for these patterns.

What Codependency Looks Like

Unhealed trauma often leads to codependency: a pattern where people put others’ needs first, ignore their own needs, and look for approval by trying to fix, please, or take care of others—often in unfair, one-sided, or even toxic relationships.

Ego and the Marriage Trap: A Cautionary Tale

I hold firmly to the belief that each of us carries an innate code of ethics—an internal compass distinguishing right from wrong. Despite the depth of my own childhood pain, I have never intentionally harmed another person emotionally or physically, and I never will if I can help it.

Consider the messy marriage of my friend Rene. Her husband Charles had a shall we say, ”momma” complex bordering on unhealthy attachment to a narcissistic parent. Everything he did was with the intention of seeking her approval. So tied was he to his mother’s apron strings that the marriage suffered.

Both partners were stubborn and ego-driven; together, they were a disaster waiting to happen. They walked on eggshells around each other, clashed constantly, and allowed “mother-in-law” interference, financial stress, and family pressure to widen the rift. A few years after his mom’s passing, Charles became a victim of a deadly disease.

Yet, despite Rene nursing her husband through the debilitating disease—a moment one might expect to cultivate closeness—nothing really changed. They ended up living in separate parts of the same house. Her once-vibrant self-respect eroded into a chronic state of pessimism and fear. Individually, both were decent people; together, their colliding egos poisoned the bond. While pride and stonewalling create isolation in relationships, it is vulnerability and love that disarm conflict.

The Poison of Unresolved Anger: Paulina’s Story

Hatred and prolonged anger corrode the body and mind. My friend Paulina endured severe childhood sexual abuse from a cousin at age 9 and buried it deeply. At 21, she entered an abusive marriage, enduring beatings and infidelity while pregnant, all for the sake of her child. When she discovered the cheating, her rage erupted. She divorced, fought in court, and won a substantial settlement, becoming financially independent overnight.

Years later, Paulina met a genuinely kind, loving man. Yet she could not fully receive his love—unresolved rage, fear, and shame blocked her. Despite my encouragement to focus on the present, she felt compelled to seek confrontation and closure with her childhood abuser. Traveling to her remote village, we discovered the abuser had passed away. The news brought a partial release: she no longer needed to confront him. But the man who had waited patiently for her had, under family pressure, married someone else. Heartbroken but ultimately free from the grip of hatred, she continues to seek true love, and I hold hope for her.

The Deeper Message in The Pain

These experiences—my own childhood, Rene ’s marriage, Paulina ’s journey—illustrate how unhealed trauma fuels codependent habits. It increases patterns of chronic people-pleasing, blurred boundaries, attracting or remaining with unhealthy partners, and attempting to “repair” old wounds through current relationships.

Recognizing the Signs of Trauma

Trauma from codependent dynamics often shows up as persistent feelings of unworthiness, hyper-responsibility for others’ emotions, chronic anxiety in relationships, and a deep fear of abandonment. Survivors may struggle with self-trust, feel empty when alone, or experience physical symptoms such as tension, digestive issues, or exhaustion from the constant emotional upheavals.

Common warning signs include:

  • Martyr Syndrome. Over-focusing on a partner’s needs while ignoring your own.
  • Saviour complex: Feeling responsible for fixing or controlling their behavior.
  • Abandonment issues: Intense fear of rejection that leads to bending backwards in excessive compromise
  • Toxicity: Attracting or staying in unbalanced, abusive relationships
  • Chronic resentment, suppressed anger, or emotional numbness.
  • Difficulty saying “no” without overwhelming guilt.

The Secrecy of Silence

Many remain silent about codependent patterns due to profound shame. Thinking they seem “too needy” or “defective”, fear that speaking up will lead to abandonment, or the internalized belief that enduring pain proves love and loyalty. This enforced silence keeps the trauma cycle alive while ingraining powerlessness.

Codependency can both originate from and increase CPTSD. Childhood relational wounds condition you for adult trauma bonding, where love feels conditional. The constant relational strain magnifies toxic shame and emotional flashbacks, reinforcing feelings of unworthiness and isolation. Understanding this link to codependency is a core part of CPTSD recovery.

Healing the Inner Child.

Healing begins with turning toward the wounded inner child with the compassion that was missing in the past. Through gentle practices such as inner-child visualization, therapeutic writing, somatic grounding, or mirror work, survivors can offer themselves the self-validation, safety, and unconditional acceptance they were once denied. Re-parenting oneself involves setting healthy boundaries, practicing self-soothing, and gradually rebuilding self-worth independent of external approval.

The Bottom Line: Finding Help is the First Step to Healing and Recovery

Trauma-Informed Steps for Support and Healing for Survivors:

  • Validate your experience: The patterns were survival strategies, not character flaws.
  • Practice boundary-setting: Start small—say “no” without explanation or apology.
  • Regulate the nervous system: Use breathwork, grounding exercises, or body scans to interrupt dysregulation.
  • Seek specialized support: Work with therapists trained in complex trauma, attachment, or codependency (e.g., using EMDR, IFS, or somatic approaches).
  • Cultivate self-compassion: Use daily affirmations rooted in truth (“I am worthy of mutual, respectful love”).

CPTSD Foundation offers daily support, trauma-informed resources, blogs, and safe communities to help heal from childhood relational trauma and codependency. Explore attachment wounds, neurodiversity, and practical strategies to reduce isolation and rebuild your life.

Your pain is valid. Healing isn’t linear—every small act of self-kindness builds resilience and opens the door to real connection. You’re worthy of peace, mutual love, and full recovery. Help is available—reach out.

Support

Helplines and Immediate Support: If you are in crisis or need urgent support:

References and sources:

Photo by DICSON on Unsplash

Guest Post Disclaimer: Any and all information shared in this guest blog post is intended for educational and informational purposes only. Names have been changed to protect identities. 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.

]]> https://cptsdfoundation.org/2026/02/19/the-hidden-legacy-of-relational-trauma-breaking-free-from-codependency-and-complex-ptsd/feed/ 4 When a Victim Doesn’t Know She’s a Victim: Survivor’s Guilt, the “Fawn” Response, Trauma Bonds, and Setting Boundaries https://cptsdfoundation.org/2024/11/08/when-a-victim-doesnt-know-shes-a-victim-survivors-guilt-the-fawn-response-trauma-bonds-and-setting-boundaries/ https://cptsdfoundation.org/2024/11/08/when-a-victim-doesnt-know-shes-a-victim-survivors-guilt-the-fawn-response-trauma-bonds-and-setting-boundaries/#comments Fri, 08 Nov 2024 10:29:49 +0000 https://cptsdfoundation.org/?p=987498573 “I can’t forgive myself.”  Daily, I uttered this phrase. 

When I said it, my loved ones were concerned. “But what do you need to forgive yourself for?” They’d ask, perplexed. For them, there was nothing I’d done that needed forgiving.  

The voice in my head screamed, “You’re wrong!” I knew I had to forgive myself, even if I didn’t know why.

At the time, I didn’t know it was odd to be sitting around for hours a day feeling like I needed to forgive myself. No one else in my life was doing that. They were focused on moving forward. Yet, there I was, caught in my self-guilt, feeling like the most despicable human being on the planet, unable to forgive myself. Even worse, I didn’t even know what I was trying to forgive myself for, and no amount of thinking about it could pinpoint it. 

Isolation, Rumination, and Self-Guilt

Often, complex trauma survivors isolate themselves. Their isolation sparks deep rumination that makes them live in the past. They might feel like horrible people who need to seek forgiveness for the things they have done “wrong.” What these survivors don’t yet see is that they’re the victims of the things that they’re dwelling on, and their guilt and shame are natural reactions to their experiences. 

Survivor’s guilt is most common in situations of immediate tragedy, such as being the sole survivor of a car accident or similar disaster. The survivor feels guilty for the rest of his life, wondering why he lived but the others didn’t. 

When it comes to complex trauma survivors, though, the definition expands to include their feelings of self-guilt as they relate to the traumatic situations they endured. It is a more subtle type of survivor’s guilt, but it is just as real and damaging. 

While healing, I realized my inability to forgive myself wasn’t because I was upset about the mistakes I had made in the past — those I had forgiven myself for. My inability to forgive myself came from not knowing I was a victim of control, manipulation, and abuse at the hands of others, all while not being aware of the fact that my body was heavily dissociated as a result, and feeling guilty and ashamed as I reflected back on my own fight, flight, freeze, and fawn reactions in all these situations. 

Attempting to “Fix” the Past

A while ago, I tried to reconnect with people from my past after being isolated for so long. I had been desperately and privately seeking answers to my health struggles, not communicating with hardly anyone but my immediate family, coworkers, and medical professionals. One reason I had lost contact with many people was due to the advice of my mental health team, who noticed that some relationships had a detrimental effect on me. Working on my health and balancing a full-time job didn’t leave much time or emotional energy for others. For years, I had overextended myself to care for others, neglecting my own well-being. I didn’t make time to care for myself without feeling guilty about it. 

Often, survivors return to the familiarity of the things they went through in an attempt to “fix” them. They may return to others who have hurt them in a phenomenon known as the trauma bond. A trauma bond is rooted in an imbalance of power, and it is typically an unhealthy emotional attachment that forms between a person and someone else who mistreats them.

I have firsthand experience with this from when I attempted to reconnect and rebuild relationships with people from my past. After losing contact with many people due to my isolation, I made a list of the ones I believed were safe to reconnect with and started determining how best to reconnect. I was hesitant about some due to their connections to past trauma, and I wanted to avoid further hurt from them and those environments. Still, I decided to give some people the benefit of the doubt and not associate them with the environment as a whole. 

Looking back, trying to reconnect with people from my past at that time was premature. I still was deeply struggling and couldn’t take on much more stress than I was already in at the time. I was also still very vulnerable and didn’t have the proper mental clarity to distinguish who was safe to trust and who was not. 

The first group on my list to reconnect with were people from one of the religious communities I was involved in. I wanted to avoid the environment as a whole after being involved there — my experiences there greatly exacerbated the survivor’s guilt and self-blame I previously had. Still, there was a small group there that I believed cared for me, and I thought it would be safe to reconnect with them personally without having to get involved in the larger group. 

When I met this group and attempted to reconnect and apologize for my absence, I was initially met with shock that quickly turned into hostility and anger from the group leader. After the initial awkwardness faded, he began to admonish me. 

“I’m going to be a pastoral voice for you,” he said sternly. The anger in his eyes pierced my soul and made me shake in terror. 

He began hurling insults, accusations, and assumptions at me like daggers. He yelled in my face, asking why I “dropped off the face of the earth,” and demanded answers to his unanswered questions about my whereabouts and private life. He just kept on going without stopping. I had no room to breathe or say anything. I immediately went into the “freeze” trauma response, unable to fathom what was happening. 

I finally got the courage to respond, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I think you do,” he immediately spat back, gaslighting me into questioning my own reality. Maybe he’s right? I remember thinking in my head. I wracked my mind for evidence that these insults were accurate. But I couldn’t get another word out. 

Once he had exhausted his venom, he took a breath and said with a sly smile on his face, “You’re welcome to take a seat.” He motioned his hands toward the couch. I couldn’t tell if he was being genuine or sarcastic. 

This is the exact moment I should have turned around and run for my life, but my body was frozen. What I ended up doing in response to this situation was “fawning,” where the victim adopts a people-pleasing approach to pacify the perpetrator so that the perpetrator does not perceive her as a threat and incite more punishment. 

I slowly inched closer to the couch and took a seat, thinking I had no other option. I wanted to scream for help. I wanted to run. But the power dynamics made it seem that my personal safety would have been at risk if I had chosen to run. So, I did my best to pacify the situation and pretend like I wasn’t uncomfortable. I had been very used to pacifying aggressors’ behavior with mature communication and a smile so they wouldn’t feel threatened if I stood up for myself. This was just another one of those times. 

For the next few hours, this small group interrogated me, and I sat there as calmly as I possibly could, appeasing them and answering all their burning questions honestly. I trembled on the inside as I kept my arms crossed in my lap, and my head hung low. They demanded answers to all their burning questions about me, my personal life, my medical records, my family, my whereabouts. And I thought I owed them answers. I did not know at the time that I did not owe anyone answers to why I was in isolation, focusing on my health and protecting myself. 

During this interrogation, I continued to be victimized for the things that were “wrong” about me. Still, I did my best to communicate like I normally do, hide my fear, and answer their questions honestly. Even hours into it, I was still apologizing for actions I’d taken to protect myself. 

At one point in the interrogation, the leader of this group sat with his arms and legs crossed like a pretzel, waiting for me to confess my “sins.” 

“So, what are you sorry for?” he sadistically asked. I could see the anticipation as he waited for me to confess how “awful” I was. My only “sin” was separating myself from the relationship because of the control tactics used on me, so I could prioritize my health. After I gave the group the answers they were looking for, they would say, “There is forgiveness in Christ.” This false balm made me sick to my stomach. 

Finally, it was over, and I left feeling dazed and unable to fathom what had just happened. They ended it on a “positive” note, reminding me the reasons why their admonishment over me was necessary. “It’s because we love you.” And they also reminded me, “Just focus on the positive things.” Try as I might, there was nothing positive to recall. The insults hurled in my face that night became yet another set of emotional flashbacks added on to the myriad of other flashbacks that already plagued me on a daily basis. 

Only after this did I see the obvious extreme control and manipulation tactics that outsiders could see. These people had no right to have any power over me but took it upon themselves to control me, continue their quest to pull me away from the people and things in my life that were important to me and twist the words of the Bible to come up with all the “sins” they convinced themselves I was guilty of. This is one of the numerous times I worshiped the opinions of religious people and begged for their forgiveness when I’d done nothing wrong. 

Often, in situations of control, manipulation, and abuse, all the perpetrators have to do is wrap it up as “love” and “charity.” Then, it’s no longer abuse. I believe a “love” that punishes, criticizes, and judges is not love at all. 

What I’ve Learned About Survivor’s Guilt

In retrospect, my first mistake was believing that I had something to seek forgiveness for. That was the survivor’s guilt, religious indoctrination, and lingering trauma bond talking. I did not owe anyone an explanation as to why I needed to focus on myself and my health or why I dropped out of sight. 

My next mistake was not listening to myself the moment I felt unsafe. I should have turned around and walked back to my car. There was no need for me to explain anything. Today, when situations like this happen, I simply walk away. 

I’ve realized there is nothing for me to be sorry for or feel guilty about when I am protecting myself. In the past, I constantly apologized for my “arrogance,” my “disobedience,” and the ways I supposedly “let down” the people who ruthlessly controlled me. Believing that I owed people explanations and could never say “no” made my life unmanageable. It impacted my productivity. I lost sleep. I lost money. I neglected my own self-care at the expense of pleasing other people. It got to the point where I couldn’t manage myself because I was under the control of others. My trauma and experiences with people who put themselves in this false position of power conditioned me to believe that I was inherently “wrong” – something I’ve worked ceaselessly to unlearn. 

Recently, I reconnected with some of the other people and groups on my list, and I’m glad I did. Others I reconnected with were just so glad to hear from me and elated to know that I was okay after many years of being concerned for my health. They didn’t expect any explanations or punish me for taking time away to heal. This is the healthy, appropriate, and normal way to respond to a complex trauma survivor who steps back out into the world after living in isolation. I finally believed that no one had any business knowing my private life — unless I chose to tell them.

It Is Possible to Overcome the Guilt and Blame that Come with Survivor’s Guilt

Survivors, if you are feeling ready to come out of isolation, be sure you’ve healed enough to evaluate who is safe to reconnect with. Take all the time you need to get a good head on your shoulders. It doesn’t matter if it takes a few weeks, a few months, or many years. You don’t owe anyone explanations or answers.

With time and work, I realized that I didn’t need to forgive myself for the things I was the victim of before I could move forward with my life. I still struggle with the emotions that come with survivor’s guilt, but I daily work through them and do my best to remember the fact that there was nothing for me to be sorry for in the first place. 

Photo by Yuris Alhumaydy on Pexels

 

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.

]]> https://cptsdfoundation.org/2024/11/08/when-a-victim-doesnt-know-shes-a-victim-survivors-guilt-the-fawn-response-trauma-bonds-and-setting-boundaries/feed/ 11 Why Childhood Trauma Survivors Blame Themselves https://cptsdfoundation.org/2024/07/03/987497922/ https://cptsdfoundation.org/2024/07/03/987497922/#comments Wed, 03 Jul 2024 09:20:30 +0000 https://cptsdfoundation.org/?p=987497922 In my forties, I was a part of a support group for survivors of abuse. Most of the women who attended were dealing with abusive partners. I was the only one sharing about childhood abuse, though I am sure nearly everyone there was a survivor of childhood trauma. We started each session with a “check-in time.” Each person could share whatever was on their mind.

The young woman sitting to my right began to cry. “I have worked so hard to make a home. I hold down a job, I do all the housework, and I try to be pleasant, but no matter what I do, my husband stays mad. He comes home mad. He leaves mad. He slaps me. He insults me. I’ve tried everything I know, and nothing has worked. What is wrong with me? Maybe if I made more money. Maybe if I just tried a little harder. I wonder every single day what I am doing wrong. We argue and fight, and I talk and talk and talk. Still, I just can’t figure it out. What is it? What am I doing wrong?”

Unable to keep my mouth shut, I piped up. “I can answer that.”

That’s how abusers work. They make you think their behavior is your fault.

Dead silence fell over the room. The young woman’s eyes grew wide as she stared my way. Gaining the full attention of the room, I shared my insight. “Nothing,” I said. “The answer is…nothing. There is nothing you did to cause it, and there is nothing you can do to stop it. That’s how abusers work. They make you think their behavior is your fault.”

After watching the wheels turn in her head for five seconds, she spoke. “I cook, I clean, I work so hard. I just can’t figure it out. I know I’m not perfect, but I just can’t figure out what I’m doing wrong. Maybe if I…” and on and on, she went as if I had not said a single word. She was convinced she was causing the abuse and, therefore, had the power to stop it.

How could she possibly not see the self-blame? And why could I see it so easily in her and not myself?

I was a bad child. A very bad child. I talked too much. My fun-loving nature was obnoxious. Nobody wanted to be around me. I caused trouble everywhere I went. In addition, I was cataclysmically stupid. Why did my parents have to have a child like me? Doomed to failure, I was inherently bad. I was the reason my parents were so unhappy. I was the reason our family was so troubled. I tried everything. Nothing worked. So I decided to try and disappear. Even being quiet made no difference. I could never disappear enough for the abuse to stop. As an adult, according to my parents, I was a stupid idiot. Too dumb to make a decision, too unsuccessful to be loved, I lived under my parents’ condemnation for decades, believing in the depths of my soul every bit of blame they sent my way. Their abuse continued as long as I remained in contact. I was over fifty years old before I finally said NO MORE.

Why would anyone stay in an abusive relationship for so long?

But more to the point…Why do victims of abuse blame themselves instead of believing the truth?

Like my friend from the support group, I went round and round in my head, trying to discover the reason I had always been such a problem. I discovered that blame and, more importantly, self-blame follow a pattern.

Why self-blame cements itself in childhood trauma:

People are more likely to blame themselves when abuse occurs within interpersonal, close relationships, such as with a parent or spouse. Vulnerability and dependence are both hallmarks of these close relationships, giving the abuser a wider as well as deeper swath of access.

The following are some of the reasons self-blame cements itself in the heart of a child.

1. Children believe their abuser
2. The abuser is seen as “normal” or a pillar of the community by others
3. When children try to tell, the abuse is either downplayed or not believed at all. Sometimes there is no one children can tell.
4. Abuse is all the child knows.
5. When a child tries to stand up for themselves, the abuser uses it as justification for more abuse
6. Self-blame is often the only way a child can control an unbearable and uncontrollable situation.
7. Self-blame is a survival technique
8. The loss of the relationship is so threatening blaming yourself feels safer than admitting the truth
9. The abuser has trained you (brainwashed you) to blame yourself
10. Chronic feelings of guilt, anxiety, and shame are temporarily relieved by blaming yourself.

Signs you are blaming yourself

-people pleasing
-feelings of self-hatred
-compliments make you uncomfortable
-conflict avoidance
-difficulty with trust
-attributing success to luck
-self-sabotage
-sensitive to rejection
-struggle with boundaries
-seeing yourself as responsible for everything that goes wrong

The Thought Process Behind Self-Blame

I should have known better
I should have said no
I should have stood up for myself
I should have used my voice
If I had been a good child, I would not have been abused
If I could figure out how to please my parents, the abuse will stop
If I can be successful, I will finally be loved

How to Stop Blaming Yourself

I don’t want to stop at the causes and symptoms of self-blame. The word paradigm means a standard, perspective, or set of ideas. To stop self-blame, there must be a paradigm shift at the deepest level of who you are. Join me in part II of this blog series on creating a paradigm shift and stopping self-blame in its tracks forever! Defy trauma, embrace joy.

 

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.

 

 

]]> https://cptsdfoundation.org/2024/07/03/987497922/feed/ 4 Safe Place https://cptsdfoundation.org/2024/05/27/safe-place/ https://cptsdfoundation.org/2024/05/27/safe-place/#comments Mon, 27 May 2024 09:07:54 +0000 https://cptsdfoundation.org/?p=987489257 I have a wonderful therapist.  It’s not your usual “talk therapy,” though. We do talk, and I have come to trust him implicitly. He has helped me heal from PTSD and complex relational trauma, and the transformation since I began working with him far exceeds phenomenal. Dr. Gabe Roberts is known as The Subconscious Healer. We do something called Holographic Manipulation Therapy (HMT).

I had a weird tension in me about it

Like other techniques, we also employ the idea of a “safe place,” where he helps me anchor into safety before we do any deep work or regressions. I have always used the same safe place since I have been seeing Dr. Gabe: the beach in front of my grandma’s house, now our second home. As we began chatting at the beginning of the last session, I realized I was feeling a little hesitant about “going to my safe place” because, in reality, this was where I had broken my wrist a few weeks prior, and I had a weird tension in me about it.

So, all the things we normally do and go through to work through deep-seated trauma from the past, we went through the same process on the trauma of breaking my wrist. That was our starting point. First, I re-experienced the crack of my bone that I heard and the onset of the fear I experienced. I was scared and alone and had no way back up the small cliff I had descended to the rocky shore. (I am quite good in emergencies, and this was no exception. I simply trespassed onto a neighbor’s property, used their private staircase, and thanked them later for using it.  They have offered for me to use their stairs down any time I need to since I won’t be going down or up on the climbing rope for a while at least. It’s when the emergency subsides, and the adrenaline rush crashes that emotion tends to overwhelm me, and I cry and shake and get embarrassed at my reactions.)

As we followed my subconscious, it led me to the scene in my home when the ambulance arrived.  Fire truck, too. There must have been 15 people all congregating around me. People were sticking my veins for an IV and missing. Pandemonium. My parents happened to have just arrived at our home because we were all going out to dinner. When I called my husband, John, and told him I had broken my wrist and was coming up the neighbor’s stairs, my parents were already there. I was still somewhat in shock, and the pain was amplifying exponentially from moment to moment. I just needed a minute to process everything. I wanted to see my husband, hug him, and figure out the best thing to do. I was still evaluating how badly I had been hurt. My dad took over and called the ambulance without my knowledge or approval; he just did it. Ultimately, I am glad I went to the ER that night and that I did so in an ambulance, where they were able to administer pain medication during the hour-long drive to the hospital. But all of a sudden, I saw the pattern clearly of how my father always made “executive decisions,” as he sometimes called them, and put situations in front of me where he had already made a decision and effectively removed the element of my own choice from me. Over and over from a young age until it seemed normal.

But I have a voice today. Sometimes, I still have to speak up forcefully to get my dad back in check, and I do know he means well and cares – and I am truly grateful for that. But it was ultimately nice to recognize how pervasive that pattern had been in my life and how and why it has taken me a lifetime to speak up for myself and make my own best decisions. It still amazes me how we think that trauma is about one particular thing, and then we do the work and find all these other things mixed in and attached in ways we hadn’t ever even realized before.

And my safe place is safe again.

Photo by Annie Spratt 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.

]]> https://cptsdfoundation.org/2024/05/27/safe-place/feed/ 1 Understanding and Addressing Common Trauma Responses for Improved Well-Being https://cptsdfoundation.org/2024/05/15/understanding-and-addressing-common-trauma-responses-for-improved-well-being/ https://cptsdfoundation.org/2024/05/15/understanding-and-addressing-common-trauma-responses-for-improved-well-being/#respond Wed, 15 May 2024 09:34:42 +0000 https://cptsdfoundation.org/?p=987489105

Trauma can be defined as any event that is deeply distressing to you, causing a significant impact on your emotional and mental well-being. While the experience of trauma is subjective and unique to each individual, there are common responses that can affect one’s quality of life. In this blog post, we explore four of the most common trauma responses and offer insights on how to address them for improved well-being.

1. Overthinking: Overthinking, or obsessively dwelling on past events or worrying about the future, can exacerbate feelings of depression and anxiety. By identifying triggers and practicing grounding techniques, individuals can learn to manage overthinking and regain control over their thoughts.

2. Over-apologizing: Excessive apologizing is often linked to low self-worth or a desire to please others, stemming from past trauma. Recognizing triggers and setting boundaries are crucial steps in breaking the cycle of over-apologizing and fostering self-compassion.

3. Oversharing: Sharing too much personal information, especially related to trauma, can strain relationships and create unhealthy dynamics. Setting boundaries and being mindful of what and how much to disclose can help individuals maintain healthier connections with others.

4. Overwhelm: Feeling constantly overwhelmed by emotions or stress may indicate unprocessed trauma. Seeking support from a trauma-informed therapist and prioritizing self-care are essential in managing overwhelm and promoting emotional well-being.

Practicing self-compassion is also key in the healing process

Recognizing these common trauma responses is the first step towards healing and improving overall well-being. It is important to remember that healing from trauma is a personal journey that may require professional support. Working with a therapist who specializes in trauma can help individuals process their emotions and experiences in a safe and supportive environment.

Practicing self-compassion is also key in the healing process. Engaging in activities such as journaling, getting quality sleep, adjusting schedules as needed, and surrounding oneself with supportive individuals can aid in the healing journey.

Remember, you are not alone in your healing process. By acknowledging and addressing common trauma responses, individuals can take proactive steps toward healing and reclaiming their well-being. Be kind to yourself, seek support when needed, and know that healing is possible.

Photo by Brandy Kennedy 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.

]]> https://cptsdfoundation.org/2024/05/15/understanding-and-addressing-common-trauma-responses-for-improved-well-being/feed/ 0 Getting Rid of My Mirrors to Conquer Self-Loathing https://cptsdfoundation.org/2024/05/08/getting-rid-of-my-mirrors-to-conquer-self-loathing/ https://cptsdfoundation.org/2024/05/08/getting-rid-of-my-mirrors-to-conquer-self-loathing/#comments Wed, 08 May 2024 09:13:20 +0000 https://cptsdfoundation.org/?p=987488805 Did you know that mirrors hide our deep, dark secrets?

I was driving through East Texas one sunny morning in January for my tiny home retreat. (A tiny home was my spontaneous idea to minimize distractions and focus on myself to kickstart my healing journey.) I stopped at a quaint little coffee shop. As I walked in, I saw a group of about eight townspeople singing folk and worship music amongst the beautiful sounds of harmonicas, guitars, and a harp. 

I started walking to the back of the coffee shop to order, and I looked over at a community table with three friends catching up with each other and casually said, “Do they always play music in here?! It’s so nice!” 

“Oh, you have PTSD, too?”

I got my drink, and soon simple small talk sparked introductions as they invited me to sit at their table. Almost immediately the conversation turned personal, and someone asked me, “Oh, you have PTSD, too?” I’m not really sure how it happened that way, but it did, and, these people almost immediately became some of my biggest cheerleaders. It turned out I was sitting with veterans who had survived the horrors of combat, and although my trauma looked different from their trauma, healing from PTSD was not foreign to them.  

It was interesting that this happened because—even before that morning—I had been desperately searching for people outside of the medical system to understand my C-PTSD as I didn’t see much progress through westernized care. I had already been thinking to myself: “If there’s any community that would understand PTSD, it would be the veteran community,” and had even downloaded some books to read up on their experiences. 

Making a New Friend

I quickly poured my heart out to one of the guys at the table, and we ended up spending most of the day together, and we talked about the deepest, craziest topics. It was so refreshing coming from the superficiality of a big city. I learned that he was a couple of years into his healing journey from some pretty intense PTSD, and I saw him as someone who had gotten to a place where I wanted to be. He had a light and calmness about him that I wanted for myself. I wanted to know everything he did to get to the healing place he now was because I had heard him talk about some of the gruesomely traumatic experiences that affected him for many years. 

I ended up extending my stay in the area, and we kept hanging out all week. He started pointing out everything that I was doing to myself that was hurting me and making my PTSD worse. This was not because he was an abusive friend but because I actually asked him to do this for me. And I dealt with and processed the emotions that came up when he pointed these things out to me. Looking back, I don’t think I would have made such a great amount of progress if I hadn’t asked him to do this for me. 

Calling Out My Tendencies to Check My Reflection

One of the things he noticed was that I was obsessed with looking at myself in the mirror. Not in the way where I was admiring myself because I actually thought I was atrocious. I was checking mirrors for every single flaw and blemish on my body. Whether it was staring at the pimples on my face in the mirror in my bathroom, checking my body in the window reflection of a shop or restaurant as I passed by, peeking up my head to check in the rearview mirror in my car at a stoplight, or opening up my camera on my iPhone and checking my face in selfie mode, I couldn’t escape it. I didn’t even realize how much I was doing it. It was even to the point where when I was working and on my Zoom calls, I was checking my little Zoom box for my face there, making sure that no one could see the blemishes that I could see. I critiqued every flaw on my face, each pimple that popped up, that my teeth had gotten pretty yellow because of all the tea I was drinking, that the scar that I had from when I scratched myself as a baby was, of course, still there, and people could obviously see on my face that I didn’t get but a couple of hours of sleep. 

“It’s just vanity,” he told me.

B.S., I thought. I was so angry to hear that. I’m not vain, I thought to myself.  

I looked up the definition of vanity and it said: vanity is inflated pride in oneself or one’s appearance. That made me even angrier. Was he calling me cocky? Was he saying that I think of myself too highly? If only he knew that I’m looking at myself because I hate myself and I’m trying to fix all my flaws. Maybe it was a bad idea to ask him to point out these kinds of things I’m doing. These are the kinds of emotions I had to process. 

My Love/Hate Relationship with Mirrors

Mirrors were always the absolute death of me. Growing up as a dancer, the mirror was my best friend and my worst enemy all at the same time. Mirrors were the way that I noticed my flaws and mistakes in dance and worked to fix them, and it became a habit throughout my life to check my personal appearance in mirrors as well. Over time, I began to have extreme body dysmorphia. Standing next to girls who were not as curvy or muscular as me, I always felt like the heavy one, and I really internalized the criticism I received from teachers who told me I didn’t have the body type to be a professional. I was used to my dancing being looked over because I didn’t fit the body type.  One of my most vivid memories was of being one of about 15 finalists at a dance audition in college where we had to stand in a horizontal line in front of the mirror while the coach slowly walked down the line inspecting our thighs, and I automatically knew that I would not make the team as I looked in the mirror at the thigh gaps on the other girls, knowing that my body type didn’t fit the bill. 

My new friend challenged me to stop looking at myself in the mirror, and he even said that I needed to cover the mirrors in my apartment somehow. He told me to get a bed sheet and drape it over each mirror or get some of that fake snow stuff and spray it all over each one. No way was I about to do that, I thought. He also told me to get a sticky note to put over my face on Zoom calls so that I don’t look at myself. I just laughed at him.

After about three weeks of thinking these ideas were ludicrous, I began to notice even more that he was right. I was obsessed with looking at myself in the mirror, doing that was only hurting me. So, I begrudgingly trekked to Walmart, got some of that fake snow stuff, and bought some pink sticky notes. I took one last look in my bathroom mirror and sprayed the snow all over it, watching my face disappear behind the white flurries.

I did not have an avenue in my home to look at my overall appearance

Thankfully, I stopped wearing makeup on a daily basis many years ago, so I didn’t have to worry about not having a mirror for that, but as of that moment, I did not have an avenue in my home to look at my overall appearance. There was no more checking myself for what I looked like before I left the house. There was no more making sure my jeans fit me just right and flattered me in all the right ways. There was no more looking at the pimples that I despised. Each time I jumped on a Zoom call, I had my sticky note ready to place over my face on my computer screen, and, rather than looking at myself, I looked at others and paid better attention to the conversations that were going on. 

After I did all of the above — and I finally stopped looking in mirrors so often and became more confident in my appearance and just accepted it for what it was — I finally admitted to myself that I was pretty vain. Though not in the sense that I thought of myself super highly, because I obviously hated the way I looked. It was in the sense that I thought the people around me noticed all the same flaws I was noticing in myself. My appearance was so important to them that where they absolutely noticed every flaw about me that I noticed. When, in reality, they didn’t. I was just another person in the crowd. 

Letting Go of the Constant Self-Loathing

In the past, when people commented on my beauty, I always felt there was an ulterior motive. When people told me that I had a nice body, I thought it was a jab at the fact that I obviously didn’t look like the other girls, and I was just a unique change. This is just where my mind went previously. But that was never the case. People were actually genuinely complimenting me. People actually saw the complete opposite of what I saw in myself. 

Even though overcoming my ingrained vanity was a tough process, I’m thankful my friend pointed it out to me. He helped me confront the fact that my insecurity was holding me back and taking away from the true beauty that everyone else saw in me. I was the only one that didn’t see it. 

If I hadn’t covered up my mirrors, I wouldn’t have realized that there is really nothing to be afraid of when I look at myself in the mirror. I wouldn’t have realized that all my “flaws” that I thought were flaws were never really flaws in the first place. 

Photo by Giorgio Trovato 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.

]]> https://cptsdfoundation.org/2024/05/08/getting-rid-of-my-mirrors-to-conquer-self-loathing/feed/ 2 How to Be a Real Adult With Childhood Trauma https://cptsdfoundation.org/2024/02/22/how-to-be-a-real-adult-with-childhood-trauma/ https://cptsdfoundation.org/2024/02/22/how-to-be-a-real-adult-with-childhood-trauma/#comments Thu, 22 Feb 2024 10:35:44 +0000 https://cptsdfoundation.org/?p=987488039 “Weeks passed, and the little Rabbit grew very old and shabby, but the Boy loved him just as much. He loved him so hard that he loved all his whiskers off, and the pink lining to his ears turned grey, and his brown spots faded. He even began to lose his shape, and he scarcely looked like a rabbit any more, except to the Boy.” –The Velveteen Rabbit


Is the Conventional Idea of a Real Adult Accurate?

What does being a real adult mean? Most people would probably say being an adult is being able to take care of yourself: meeting your own needs, doing things independently, and solving problems yourself. Indeed, we expect all of these things from adults. So why do some of us still walk around feeling like we’re not real adults?

Being a real adult is more than the practical of being able to feed, clothe, and shelter yourself or solve problems independently.

A real adult has four characteristics:
1) emotional regulation
2) self-compassion
3) clear boundaries with themselves and others
4) sense of self-worth/feeling good enough

Cultivating these characteristics in yourself takes time and patience. Go slow without the expectation of perfection.

Self-Worth and The Velveteen Rabbit

Self-worth is a belief that you have value just as you are and that you’re worthy of love and belonging.
In the story of The Velveteen Rabbit, he longs to become real. Being filled with stuffing instead of sinew, muscle, and bones made the Velveteen Rabbit feel unworthy of being loved and accepted. He thought he had to exist in a certain way, in a certain form, to matter, to the other toys and especially to the Boy.

In childhood, I got the message that I wasn’t good enough as I was. Even well into adulthood with achievements and independence, I was still a shabby tattered stuffed bunny trying to be as good as a real rabbit.

Having multiple degrees, living independently, and solving most issues on my own did not make me feel like a real adult. I struggled a lot to emotionally regulate, I gave up my boundaries to please others, and I didn’t feel like I mattered. I felt stuck at the age I was when I experienced trauma. It was embarrassing, and I tried my best to hide it.

Childhood trauma robs us of a sense of self-worth

We don’t believe we’re good enough as we are and constantly search externally for what or who will make us feel good enough. Not feeling good enough results in deep shame for our very existence. Childhood trauma survivors will hide their imperfections like their lives depend on it because they think it does. Being loved is conditional on being good enough. Even in adulthood, the trauma in the distant past, our brains, if we’re not conscious of it, still operate like we’re the scared, helpless child, scrambling to be good enough.


How to Begin Building Self-Worth And Feeling Like a Real Adult

How do you start to feel like you’re worth something? To yourself? To anyone else? Building a sense of self-worth sounds daunting! But it doesn’t have to be. First, don’t think of it as a task you need to complete to not hurt anymore or to feel like a real adult. Doing this work is being a real adult.

Start exploring these ideas, perhaps in a journal:

1) What does it mean to me to be a real adult?

2) What are my metrics for being good enough? 

3) What would my life look like if I were good enough? For me? For others?
4) What’s one small way to start making myself feel good enough? Perhaps a smile in the mirror every morning. A letter to your younger self the first time you remember feeling not good enough. Whatever feels doable and safe for you.

Be gentle with yourself. Building self-worth doesn’t happen overnight and is not linear. You are good enough now. As you are. As you were then.

 

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.

]]> https://cptsdfoundation.org/2024/02/22/how-to-be-a-real-adult-with-childhood-trauma/feed/ 5 The Antidote for Self-Criticism https://cptsdfoundation.org/2024/02/01/the-antidote-for-self-criticism/ https://cptsdfoundation.org/2024/02/01/the-antidote-for-self-criticism/#respond Thu, 01 Feb 2024 16:33:37 +0000 https://cptsdfoundation.org/?p=250187 Lately, I have received emails from readers who were critical of how they handled a particular situation at work that I wrote about. I’ve heard, “Well, I messed that up,” “I’m so stupid,” or “I suck at that.”

My friend, Jennifer Kindera, would immediately call that out as a shame response, and she would say that those shame responses are there to keep us safe. Did you have any idea that self-criticism was a trauma response?

Self-criticism refers to the habit of being overly harsh, judgmental, or negative toward oneself. It involves a pattern of evaluating one’s actions, abilities, and worth in a critical and disapproving manner. Self-criticism can manifest in various forms, including negative self-talk, self-blame, and harsh self-judgment.

Here are some key aspects of self-criticism:

  1. Negative Self-Talk: Self-criticism often involves a constant stream of negative thoughts and self-talk. Individuals may berate themselves for mistakes, perceived shortcomings, or failures.
  2. Perfectionism: Self-critics often hold themselves to impossibly high standards and may see any deviation from perfection as a failure. They may fear making mistakes and view them as evidence of their inadequacy.
  3. Self-Blame: When something goes wrong, self-critics tend to immediately blame themselves, even if the circumstances are beyond their control. This can lead to excessive guilt and self-punishment.
  4. Low Self-Esteem: Persistent self-criticism can erode self-esteem and self-worth, leading to feelings of inadequacy, insecurity, and self-doubt.
  5. Avoidance: Some individuals respond to self-criticism by avoiding challenges or situations where they might fail or be judged. This avoidance can hinder personal and professional growth.
  6. Impact on Mental Health: Self-criticism is often associated with increased levels of anxiety, depression, and stress. It can contribute to a negative cycle of emotional distress.

Do you do any of these? I know I have. After everything we’ve been through as trauma survivors, why do we treat ourselves so harshly? In the past, I would say, “There is no one harder on me than myself,”…and that was a true statement. I would berate myself for any imperfections in my performance or appearance. I was not nice to myself, but I would never think about saying those things to anyone else.

We do this to protect ourselves. You see, this is part of the armor we use as trauma survivors. We toughen ourselves up so no one can ever hurt us again. If we are mean or cruel to ourselves, at least we are in control of it. We are often our meanest critics.

While self-criticism can sometimes motivate us to strive for excellence, chronic and harsh self-criticism is typically counterproductive and detrimental to our mental well-being. For us, this becomes a maladaptive coping strategy.

Addressing self-criticism

There is an antidote for self-criticism…it is called self-compassion. Self-compassion involves treating yourself with the same kindness, understanding, and support that you would offer a friend in times of difficulty or suffering. It’s a practice of nurturing yourself emotionally and mentally, particularly during challenging moments or when facing personal shortcomings or mistakes.

Dr. Kristin Neff is a leader in the field of mindful self-compassion. I have a book in my library called “The Mindful Self-Compassion Workbook,” which she co-authored with Dr. Christopher Germer, which I highly recommend.

When I first started working through this workbook, self-compassion was a totally foreign concept to me. As I slowly worked my way through it and started to put into practice the concepts taught in the book, I could feel a shift in how I felt about myself.

According to the workbook, self-compassion consists of three elements:

  1. Self-Kindness: This involves being warm and understanding toward yourself rather than harshly self-critical. Instead of berating yourself for mistakes or perceived shortcomings, you respond with patience and kindness.
  2. Common Humanity: Recognizing that suffering, imperfection, and difficulties are part of the shared human experience is another aspect of self-compassion. It’s the understanding that everyone makes mistakes, faces challenges, and experiences pain at various points in life.
  3. Mindfulness: Self-compassion also involves maintaining a balanced awareness of your emotions and experiences without suppressing or exaggerating them. It’s the ability to acknowledge and accept your feelings without judgment.

I am not going to lie; going through this workbook early in my healing journey was quite challenging but very worth it. At that time, I had no idea what mindfulness was. “Mindfulness counters the tendency to avoid painful thoughts and emotions, allowing us to face the truth of our experience, even when it’s unpleasant.” I certainly didn’t want to face the pain of what I experienced at that time in my healing journey; however, I learned that the only way to “get over it” is to go through it.

Revisiting this workbook’s contents has been refreshing and shown me how far I’ve come in my healing journey. You can do it too.

Tips for cultivating self-compassion

  1. Recognize Your Self-Criticism: Begin by becoming aware of your self-critical thoughts and tendencies. Notice when you’re being hard on yourself or engaging in negative self-talk.
  2. Practice Self-Awareness: Develop mindfulness by paying attention to your thoughts, emotions, and physical sensations without judgment. Mindfulness can help you identify moments when self-compassion is needed.
  3. Treat Yourself as a Friend: Imagine how you would support and comfort a close friend who is going through a tough time. Apply that same kindness, understanding, and encouragement to yourself.
  4. Use Positive Affirmations: Replace self-critical thoughts with positive affirmations. When you catch yourself being overly critical, counteract it with affirmations like “I am doing my best” or “I am worthy of love and acceptance.”
  5. Practice Self-Kindness: Be gentle with yourself when you make mistakes or face challenges. Avoid self-judgment and replace it with self-kindness. Treat yourself as you would treat a loved one in a similar situation.
  6. Embrace Imperfection: Understand that nobody is perfect, and making mistakes is a natural part of being human. Embrace your imperfections and view them as opportunities for growth.
  7. Common Humanity: Remind yourself that you are not alone in your struggles. Recognize that everyone faces difficulties and setbacks at various points in life. This sense of shared humanity can reduce feelings of isolation.
  8. Self-Compassionate Language: Use self-compassionate language when talking to yourself. Replace self-criticism with phrases like “It’s okay to feel this way” or “I’m not alone in this.”
  9. Practice Self-Care: Prioritize self-care activities that nourish your physical and emotional well-being. This can include exercise, a balanced diet, relaxation techniques, and activities that bring you joy.
  10. Seek Support: Reach out to friends, family, or a therapist when you’re struggling. Sharing your feelings and experiences with others can provide valuable emotional support and validation.
  11. Journaling: Consider keeping a self-compassion journal where you write about your experiences, thoughts, and emotions with a compassionate perspective. This can help you process your feelings and practice self-compassion.
  12. Mindful Self-Compassion: Explore formal practices like mindful self-compassion meditations. These guided exercises can help you cultivate self-compassion skills systematically.

Remember that self-compassion is a practice that takes time to develop. Be patient with yourself and understand that it’s normal to have moments of self-criticism. By consistently applying these tips, you can gradually cultivate a more compassionate relationship with yourself, leading to greater emotional well-being and resilience.

As always, you do not have to walk this journey alone.

Contact me to schedule your free discovery call.

Get on the waiting list for The Resilient Career Academy™. You won’t want to miss it.

If you want to stay informed on the programs, tools, and training I offer, sign up for my mailing list.

You can also visit my website for more information on courses and other freebies I offer at: https://www.cyndibennettconsulting.com.

 

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.

]]> https://cptsdfoundation.org/2024/02/01/the-antidote-for-self-criticism/feed/ 0 Animalistic Infantilization: Navigating a Rare Form of Childhood Emotional Abuse https://cptsdfoundation.org/2022/12/21/animalistic-infantilization-navigating-a-rare-form-of-childhood-emotional-abuse/ https://cptsdfoundation.org/2022/12/21/animalistic-infantilization-navigating-a-rare-form-of-childhood-emotional-abuse/#respond Wed, 21 Dec 2022 10:05:26 +0000 https://cptsdfoundation.org/?p=245348 Children are often raised to be emotional jesters or even emotional objects, but my upbringing represents an unconsidered scenario: being raised as a human stuffed animal.

I never realized how harmful my upbringing was until I was nineteen years old and diagnosed with C-PTSD. One month later, I was admitted to a psych ward for five days. Aside from being quarantined in an environment haunted by emotional abuse, my true detriment was the insults and tirades that were hurled towards me both through childhood and beyond.

However, it was attempting EMDR (eye movement desensitization and reprocessing) therapy at twenty years old that uncovered the degradation that I faced on a near-hourly basis. In high school, my mother’s stuffed animals were the crux of my social life. They were my morning, noon, and night. They were why I had my phone taken away in class, not Instagram. She was my daily throat pain from continually straining my throat to give the stuffed animals high-pitched voices to make her laugh. Never had I seen her smile so brightly or laugh so boastfully as when I was a living doll. At this point, I had gotten accustomed to grieving any semblance of normalcy from my childhood, but never like this.

Like many other children, I was brought up with Webkinz, Disney, and other forms of anthropomorphic media and engagement. However, the older I became, the less human I became. To my mother, I was hardly addressed as Elizabeth. Aside from being her “Swee” (short for “sweetie”) often addressed by her with a pig emoji, I was Sally the lamb, George the turtle, Norman the bear, and tens of others. She herself had a similar identity and nickname to us. This form of communication is, in her words, how she shows her love towards me and how we “keep the peace,” conditioning me to live in a near-constant state of age regression. These plushes lived in the car cup holders, couches, and even on our dinner table. After spending many hours into many nights yelling at me, she’d lay in my bed and coddle me with the likes of Meera the elephant and Petie the penguin the next morning. The whiplash of being either babied or insulted was truly groundbreaking. My identity was dictated by her mood.

Dwelling on this maltreatment answered so many questions. No wonder my psyche feels so fragmented. Never in my life had I ever considered my own happiness. My routine inner monologue was, “Mom works so hard. She has so many meetings. She’s always stuck in traffic.” I automatically committed every waking hour to make her laugh and smile, not even considering that it meant casting my life aside. It is beyond painful to realize that my existence was a state of many forms of degradation. To her, my ideal state of being had to be as her stuffed animals, possessions that are lower than subhuman, in order for the household to function properly. The lack of dignity I felt in the aftermath was so devastating that I nearly attempted suicide.

How could I find any semblance of self when I’m buried underneath the broken pieces of who I was raised to be? Fortunately, I have good friends and close extended family. I began contacting them more frequently, and they provided more support than I ever could have imagined. Having my own living space and being able to navigate my own relationships with stuffed animals became a liberating experience. It shouldn’t have been liberating, but I’m glad it was. A silver lining of having a childhood of constant humiliation is that it quite literally sets the bar very low. Even strangers can fulfill the expectations that weren’t met at home: automatic respect, equal emotional ground, and being seen as a human being named Elizabeth. I will not tolerate being treated as anything less ever again.

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