Why the edge can feel unsafe

Humans did not evolve on memory foam in locked bedrooms. For most of our history, we slept on the ground, in caves, in huts with thin doors. Exposed limbs meant exposed entry points. Predators target extremities and the neck because access is easier. The nervous system solved that problem by favoring positions that protect the core: curl, cover, and tuck. That is not fear. It is pattern recognition preserved across generations. The amygdala still scans in the background during sleep, and it does not retire just because you purchased a better mattress.

Evolutionary memory that is still on duty

Even today, the brain runs a quiet night watch. On the first night in an unfamiliar place, sleep becomes asymmetric; one hemisphere remains more alert while the other rests. Laboratory work has demonstrated this first-night effect with imaging that shows a built-in vigilance system holding partial guard. That is biology, not superstition, and it helps explain why the edge of a bed in a new setting can feel like a cliff rather than a cushion.

Trauma history changes the map

Trauma shifts sleep from rest to strategy. People with childhood abuse, severe neglect, or control-based punishment often adopt positions that prioritize mobility, concealment, or both. Some sleep near the edge with one leg ready to move because escape has been coded as necessary. Others cannot tolerate uncovered limbs at all and cocoon under blankets even in warm rooms, not for comfort but for defense of the areas perpetrators once accessed. These choices are rarely conscious. They are solutions installed by experience and maintained by a threat-biased nervous system.

Posture, perception, and what the research suggests

Sleep posture correlates with emotional states in population studies and clinical reviews. Fetal-style sleepers more often report higher stress and adverse life events. Supine sleepers show a higher association with sleep paralysis in several samples. Side and edge positions vary; for some, the choice is airflow and spinal ease, for others, it is a safety cue learned a long time ago. None of this proves a single rule. It does support what clinicians observe: position is not random for many survivors.

Temperature, physiology, and learned associations

Feet are fast radiators. Specialized vessels in the hands and feet move heat quickly, so a foot outside the covers can lower body temperature and help with sleep onset. Biology does not operate in a vacuum, though. If cold feet were paired with fear, isolation, or punishment, the same sensation can function as a warning rather than a comfort. The body votes based on memory more than on textbook physiology.

Practical steps that respect biology

Start with observation rather than force. Notice how your body positions itself in the first moments of waking and the last moments before sleep. Those are honest windows. Make small experiments without pressure. If you want to test more exposure, begin with a toe or ankle rather than a full limb and see what the body permits. Do not copy someone else’s version of calm. One person sprawls because their system is quiet; another curls because their system is careful. Adjust the room before you try to adjust your biology. Lower the bed, soften the lighting, and set a temperature that signals safety. Some people settle with breathable sheets and a light-weight throw; others require no weight at all. There is no universal fix. The point is to give the nervous system current evidence that the environment is safe in the present day.

Final thoughts

Edge anxiety is not drama, and it is not immaturity. It is a living record of what kept people safe. If your legs lock tight or you pull the blanket over your head every night, that is not a flaw. It is survival programming that has not yet been given a stable reason to retire. Whether you sleep centered like a sandbag or hold the perimeter like a lookout, the pattern makes sense once the history is named. Your brain did not forget what life taught it, especially at night.

References

Tamaki M, Bang JW, Watanabe T, Sasaki Y. Night watch in one brain hemisphere during sleep associated with the first-night effect in humans. Current Biology. 2016;26(9):1190-1194.
Jalal B, Romanelli A, Hinton DE. Sleep paralysis in Italy: frequency, symptoms, and the role of cultural interpretation. Consciousness and Cognition. 2017;51:298-305.
Suni E, Chen W, Jungquist C, et al. Sleep position and mental health: a scoping review. Sleep Health. 2017;3(6):460-467.

Photo by Priscilla Du Preez 🇨🇦 on Unsplash

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

Dr. Mozelle Martin

Dr. Mozelle Martin is a retired trauma therapist and former Clinical Director of a trauma center, with extensive experience in forensic psychology, criminology, and applied ethics. A survivor of childhood and young adulthood trauma, Dr. Martin has dedicated decades to understanding the psychological and ethical complexities of trauma, crime, and accountability. Her career began as a volunteer in a women’s domestic violence shelter, then as a SA hospital advocate, later becoming a Crisis Therapist working alongside law enforcement on the streets of Phoenix. She went on to earn an AS in Psychology, a BS in Forensic Psychology, an MA in Criminology, and a PhD in Applied Ethics, ultimately working extensively in forensic mental health—providing psychological assessments, intervention, and rehabilitative support with inmates and in the community. A published author and lifelong student of life, she continues to explore the relationship and crossovers of forensic science, mental health, and ethical accountability in both historical and modern contexts.

www.InkProfiler.com

How did you survive your childhood and move on? Where did your life take you? Where are you now? How are you doing?

These are questions we have all been asked, and some are not as easy to answer as others. My childhood will be similar to anyone else’s out there who suffered abuse and trauma from the people closest to us. We are all unique in how we cope with our situations and how we break away from them and move on. I can only really speak from my own experiences of abuse and trauma. I have also lived in this world for several decades, and I can honestly say that I am a very different woman now than who I was as an abused child. Life changes us as our bodies mature, and our brains are always learning new things as we are propelled through life. Our unique experiences shape us into the person we are and how we interpret situations. Everyone is different. It is great to be different from others because the world would be boring if we were all the same. It is our differences that should be celebrated, not ridiculed.

In this article, I want to explore how we, as survivors of abuse, deal with sadness, which is essentially another part of the grieving process after having lived through trauma.. Life continues despite our experiences. It happens all the time whether we want it to or not. We cannot turn off the clock just because we have a bad night of flashbacks. We still have to get on with our lives, but it is not always easy when you are living with complex PTSD. A nightmare can really mess up your day, and your organized schedule can easily spiral out of control when those emotions get in our way. As adults, we still have to go to work and get on with our daily chores, but what if you are too sad, and your need to just sit down or spend time in bed is greater than whatever else that schedule is telling you to do? Has this happened to you?

I often suffer from nightmares from my childhood and traumatic events that have happened to me since then. Most of the time, I can regulate myself back into the present and shrug off those memories, and move on with my day. Those flashbacks don’t hurt me as much as they once did. Don’t get me wrong, I still have periods when I get overwhelmingly sad from triggers and my emotions upset my day. I can also react badly to situations that I cannot control when I have already had an emotional day. While I know this to be true, those closest to me know who I am and how I react. Normal life stressors can be hard to manage for anyone, not just survivors, but we do tend to take things a lot harder than others. It is because we have already lived through too much. I am lucky because I now have a husband sleeping right next to me and young kids in the rooms next to ours. I am surrounded by family, and I take great comfort in having them around me. They help me and guide me when I am not feeling like myself. I also have a network of friends who I can turn to when I need them. It wasn’t always like this. I was once struggling as a teen with horrific nightmares that scared the living daylights out of me on most days. I would wake up screaming and terrified, covered in sweat and not knowing where I was. It used to take me hours, sometimes days, to get my emotions back in control. I also had very few friends because I had chosen to leave everyone I knew behind and start over. Being alone and sad is the worst feeling. I needed help because I seemed to be stuck in perpetual sadness.

Who do you turn to when you are feeling sad?

Feeling sad is part of who we are as survivors of trauma and abuse. We were, after all, deeply hurt in the most profound way. We were physically violated and exploited by adults who were supposed to look after us but ended up doing the exact opposite. That fundamental betrayal will leave a mark, and each mark adds up to something more than our brains made us “forget.” The physical bruises and pain vanished with time, but those emotional scars stuck with us like invisible glue. We forget what happened to us until a time when our brains can handle the hurt and get “triggered.” We then flashed back to somewhere we never wanted to revisit, but our brains made us go there again. There it is — BAM! — your very own 3D movie starring yourself in the worst possible moment of your life. Your brain makes you watch yourself in that tortured moment and feel that pain again. You hear the voices as if they were right there, even though these events happened decades ago. It hurts, and the pain is acute and severe, just like it happened. It is no wonder that when you come out of that flashback, you feel overwhelmingly sad. You grieve for that young life who had no option but to take that pain and that burden to keep the abuse secret. Some survivors are triggered many times during the day and into the night. It can be exhausting to live like this. Feeling sadness is part of the grief process that we go through in our healing journeys. Those feelings have to come out. If you need to have a good cry, then do. Just know that you don’t need to go at it alone. Most survivors seek help and support. We eventually end up drawing strength from others as well as ourselves. It takes time to heal.

Have you ever felt overwhelmingly sad? Perhaps you had a nightmare, or you got triggered by something small, and you just couldn’t stop crying? How did you get through it?

Life has to carry on, no matter if we want to be present in it or not. Being sad is not an excuse to stop living. In fact, it is a great reason to carry on living. I know that the first thing that comes to mind when we are sad is to stop. We feel ashamed of our sadness, and we stop. We stopped whatever it was we were doing, and we often went and hid somewhere and tried to stem those stupid tears. Does this resonate with any of you? Have you ever cried in the staff restrooms at work? Or maybe you have gone out in the parking lot and sat in your car and sobbed your heart out? I have done this many times, and I can tell you that going at it alone is not the right way. When we feel sad, we want to hide ourselves away from everyone and let our emotions out in private. Why do we, as survivors, do that? Why are we so reticent to ask for help? Well, the answer is simple: it is because we are trauma survivors, and we don’t trust anyone. We might say we do, but in reality, we don’t. The reason for this is that we were hurt as children in the most fundamental way, and we don’t trust that the same hurt will not happen again. We protect ourselves by not trusting and opening up.

Our grief becomes very personal and visceral. It is always there. We sometimes don’t know how to get help and support

When I was a child, the only thing that I could talk to was my teddy bear. I carried him with me wherever I went until I was too old for a teddy bear, and my pillow had to suffice as my emotional crutch. I also used to carry a small key chain in the shape of a dolphin in my pocket. It was something that would ground me to the present moment when I was feeling sad. The shape of it calmed me as I touched it and pushed me back to the present moment. Children who have been abused do not trust adults, and when we grow up to be adults, we often turn inward to hide our emotions and sadness. Our grief becomes very personal and visceral. It is always there. We sometimes don’t know how to get help and support.

When we grow up, we come to learn that we need people in order to survive, and there are many situations where we need others to succeed. One of them is teamwork to achieve something at work or in a sport. It is the same thing with our emotional health. We are social creatures, and when we work with others, we are stronger than we are on our own. It takes a lot of bravery to reach out to someone and say; “Hey, I need help.” It is almost incomprehensible to reach out to others when our brains tell us not to trust anyone. Our past experiences of that deep betrayal will always be a constant reminder that the world is untrustworthy. Yet, we must try.

I was a lost eighteen-year-old once when I flew hundreds of miles to get away from my abusive background. I never turned back, but it was not easy to start a new life. Nothing that is worth living for is going to be easy. We have to fight for ourselves, and, as survivors, we have to do this a lot more than those who grow up in a loving home. We don’t have the love and support of family behind us that can propel us out into the air with a parachute to soften our landing into adulthood. We are launched like projectile cannonballs into the air, and we often land hard as adulthood comes as a huge shock. We were never taught the life skills that a loving mom and dad would give their child before leaving home. We are often abandoned financially and left to fight for our own survival. Everything is a surprise when we first start out by ourselves when we have to be on guard and on high alert for people who wish to exploit and harm our innocent souls. Being eighteen and alone in the world was one of the hardest years I have lived, but I was stubborn and determined that I survived my childhood for a reason. I cried buckets during those first years as life kicked me over and over while I learned what it was like to be an adult. I had many disappointments and was in worse situations than I can count, but I got through it. I learned a lot about reading people and noticed the signs of those who wished to use me for their own agendas rather than my best interests. I started making fewer mistakes and relished in my small successes. Even though I was sad and coping with constant nightmares, I learned a lot about myself in those early years. I learned that I had hope that my life would be good one day, and I turned my talents and strengths to my advantage. I took classes at night school and got into college. It was tough to work during the day and study at night, but those years were so worth it because they opened up new doors for me. Even though I was hurting and deeply sad about my past, I watched the people around me and decided to trust some of the people I worked with. That trust paid off, and I got so much in return that it helped me along the way.

If you are feeling overwhelmingly sad, please reach out because there is help out there. Trust yourself to make the right decision because if you have been abused, you get a sense of people very quickly. Trust it and go with what feels right. You do matter, and it does get easier to live with Complex PTSD. If you choose to open up to a friend and talk about what is hurting you, most friends will listen.  Your friendship may or may not last, but at least you have tried. I chose to open up to my first real boyfriend about what I had been through, and he understood me in a much better way. Our relationship didn’t last, but it wasn’t because of my past. Time tore us apart as our lives got pulled in different directions. You will find this to be true, as will people who come and go in your life.

There are many survivors out there, and there is support all over the world. There is support online, too, that acts as a good gateway to real face-to-face help.

My name is Elizabeth, and I am a survivor.

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.

Elizabeth Woods

For more about me: https://www.elizabethwoodsauthor.com

Elizabeth Woods grew up in a world of brutal sex offenders, murderers, and inconceivably neglectful adults. Elizabeth is passionate about spreading awareness of what it is like to survive after trauma. She is the author of several books and has written her memoir, telling her childhood story: The Sex-Offender’s Daughter: A True Story of Survival Against All Odds, available on Amazon Kindle and paperback.

Elizabeth is also the author of “Living with Complex PTSD” and the Cedar’s Port Fiction series: “Saving Joshua”, “Protecting Sarah”, “Guarding Noah” and “Bringing Back Faith,” and “Restoring Hope,” available here: https://www.amazon.com/stores/author/B0BCBZQN7L/allbooks?ingress=0&visitId=7e223b5b-1a29-45f0-ad9d-e9c8fdb59e9c&ref_=ap_rdr&ccs_id=931f96e2-c220-4765-acc8-cc99bb95e8bd

www.elizabethwoodsauthor.com/

– This a longer article than usual, I wanted to describe my experience as thoroughly as possible –

In 2014, after a traumatic breakup, my daughter moved in with her Dad, with very little money and being officially homeless, I was referred, by Lewisham Council, to Certitude, specifically to their “Shared Lives Scheme”: “Shared Lives is a quality alternative to residential care settings where people live as part of a family.” The page reads as follows: Shared Lives Carers support people within their own homes, either in a long-term arrangement, day support, or on a respite basis, which may be a day, weekend, or a few weeks at a time. People benefit from consistent support from people who know them well and build positive relationships and friendships.”

To be fair, looking at their website now, things have changed, since 2014. The scheme, back then, entailed me being paired up with a “Living Carer.” I was to stay with her for up to two years, depending on my progress. It was a time for me to recuperate and to live independently again, with all the support I needed.

Unfortunately, this isn’t what happened. The day I moved in, I was broken, I didn’t stop crying. I had just lost my home. I wanted to die, every single day. One of the first things M (my” career”) asked me was if “I’d like to join them, on Sunday.” I didn’t understand, what she meant. So, she added: “To church?” I politely declined the offer. At the time I was a practicing Buddhist. 

The next day, as I couldn’t stop crying, I poured my heart out to her. She got talking about her Faith, and, as the curious being I am, I asked her some questions, informing her I had a different faith. Her passion inspired me to go back to my own practice. The next day, we had another chat. She got the Bible out and cited some passages. I felt uncomfortable. I felt she was trying to convince me to join her. I felt it was inappropriate for her – as a carer, to open her Bible. My past training in the homelessness sector taught me not to talk about religion or not to indoctrinate patients. As a support worker, of any kind, you keep your beliefs to yourself. It is called being professional.

This was confirmed to me when they invited me to have dinner with them, Earthquakes just shook Nepal and I was glad someone I knew just come back to the UK, a few days before. When M’s husband, A screamed: “This happened because THEY don’t believe in THE ONE TRUE GOD!!” I left, disgusted the living room.

 “In a few words: she didn’t want me there.”

The other thing M was insisting on was that I save money to get my own TV so I could watch in the privacy of my bedroom. Once, I settled with them to watch TV. She made me feel very uncomfortable. So uncomfortable, I left quickly. In the bedroom I was offered, there was a broken computer desk that I had to get rid of, myself. I asked for a replacement or a small shelf. I never got a replacement. There was a big wardrobe, with a door off its hinges. This was fixed when I was out, without any notice. There seemed to be a few excuses to get into my room when I wasn’t there. They had a living room, with a big dining table but they put stools for me to eat at the kitchen top. The kitchen was small and there was barely any space for 2 people to be in there. I was given one tiny cupboard, for my own food and kitchen ware. I wasn’t allowed to leave a few essentials in the bathroom, such as my soap and toothbrush. In a few words: she didn’t want me there.

I noticed she kept letters inviting me, and herself to attend monthly residents’ groups. She watched everything I did. I was given a few chores but, it was never done properly. The house was cluttered and messy but, I was the problem.

She would forget my laundry days and had to ask her husband if I could do my laundry. She was supposed to cook healthy meals when I first arrived but only bought me microwave meals. 

On a regular basis, she would let the electricity meter run out, and she would be out all day. Turned out, she had a full time job and, adding all her church activities, she was barely in the house. Her full time job was supposed to care for me, to take me out, to provide a safe environment for my recovery. It was evident, I was extra money for her.

She told me to “think positive.” When I replied I didn’t like this piece of advice, she retorted: “What else am I supposed to say?” This was after spending the afternoon in A&E, felling suicidal and being given Valium to calm me down.

Once, as I was swiping the floor, I found a £10 note in a shoe. I was puzzled. What was it doing in one of her shoes? My intuition told me she was testing me: will I take the £10 note? I decided to leave it there, so it was visible. After a couple of days, it was still there, so I told her: “There is £10 in your shoe? isn’t that weird?” The way she feigned her surprise showed me everything I needed to know. It had been a trap.

Another lady arrived a month or so after me. The small cupboard in the kitchen was divided between us. Same thing in the fridge. We had on tiny shelf each. She too had to squeeze in the kitchen to eat. She had a smaller room than I had. She wanted to get out of there as soon as possible. She later was moved to another property within the scheme.

I had complained about things feeling off to S, the manager since I had first moved in. I was told it is always difficult to live in someone’s home and having to adhere to certain rules. It wasn’t the point I was making. The manager was appalled M left us with no electricity, on a regular basis. M was warned but, it still happened. There was talk about moving me to another property. It didn’t happen. I discovered my “flatmate” was moved to the same property I was offered within my first months of living with M and A, but never got to move into. I was unhappy about this.

I kept a record of all the occasions I was called to clean the mess that wasn’t mine. My every move was monitored. I felt persecuted. I WAS persecuted. It escalated until I started to seriously battle with thoughts of self-harm. I acted upon them too. Soon after, I wrote to the manager, again, informing her of my struggles. A meeting with M, herself, and myself was scheduled. I added if they didn’t move me as soon as possible I will fill in a formal complaint. Why wasn’t I moved in the property my flatmate was offered?

“S told me M wanted to punish me, she wanted to harm me with this comment. “

During this meeting, M feigned to be choked at my anger (Didn’t you know individuals diagnosed with BPD are angry monsters?) I never seemed happy and willing to fit in. S brought up the time she read the Bible to me; M challenged me “Which passage of the Bible?” “I don’t know”, I replied, “it is a big book”. “We are a family!” She exclaimed. I flinched! “No, we aren’t.”

 M brushed off the incident of her husband shouting passionately “Those people deserved to die in earthquakes because they didn’t believe in the ONE TRUE GOD.” “I cannot talk for A.” Same as the time A told me off for not picking up THEIR soap off the shower floor.

At the end of the meeting, M declared haughtily: “Well, I didn’t want to bring it up but, your bedroom is very smelly!” She made it sound as if I was one of the most disgusting people in the world. I felt as if I had just been slapped.

I was left alone with the manager, once M left. S told me M wanted to punish me, she wanted to harm me with this comment. She had been in my bedroom, to check if I was comfortable: “It didn’t smell and it was clean and orderly.” S finally through M. She also worked out M was working full time when she wasn’t supposed to.

“How many people, such as M, are using these care schemes, offered full training, to indoctrinated vulnerable individuals into their places of worship? Or just to make themselves feel good and powerful? Or just to get extra money? “

Thankfully, I was moved into my own supported accommodation, soon after. M and A gave me a hard time until the end: “Make sure you leave things as you found them!!” They repeated and again. On the last day, I just shouted at A: “I am leaving!!! Let me be!!” Maybe I should have brought back the broken desk and gotten the wardrobe door off its hinges.

Waiting for my friend to help me move my things, I took a walk. I felt sick to my stomach. I couldn’t breathe. When the last box was in the car, M asked if I was coming back to clean the bedroom floor and give her my last weekly payment of £20. The money was on the table. I said: “Sure, I’ll come back.” I left the key and never came back.

S sent me a review/ feedback a few weeks after I departed from the scheme. “Your concerns have been taken seriously. M will no longer work for us.” I never sent this feedback letter: I wanted to put all of this behind me.

10 years later, I still have nightmares of becoming homeless and moving into an awful place. I still see M, in my dreams (Nightmares) regularly. I saw her a couple of times in the neighborhood. I still feel anger at the abuse I endured in her “care.” And I am till mad at the way it was mishandled. This is the reason why I am writing about this now.

Even though, I spoke out, loud and clear, it took too long for my warnings to be taken seriously. It shouldn’t have happened. S was a lovely woman, but I wished she had listened to my concerns much earlier.

How many people, such as M, are using these care schemes, offered full training, to then indoctrinate vulnerable individuals into their places of worship? Or just to make themselves feel good and powerful? Or just to get extra money?

I know for a fact that M was sacked from Certitude but, before I left, I saw files on the living room table to join Bromley’s ( South East London – UK) own scheme. I wonder if she is working still, in this capacity? Is she still abusing vulnerable people, in the community? Unfortunately, I wouldn’t be surprised if she was.

I am also sharing this to let others know: that if you are mistreated, talk to someone. I hope and pray someone listens to you and protects you. I know too well we can speak up but, unfortunately, it doesn’t mean we will be listened to and protected. We all deserve a safe place to land, so we can recover from whatever hardships we’ve experienced.

Take gentle care of yourselves.

Sylvie

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.

Sylvie Rouhani

Writer – Blogger – Poet – Mental Health and Child Abuse Activist

Deputy Editor and Journalist for Taxpayers Against Poverty

Author of The Blossoming Lotus”

https://www.austinmacauley.com/book/blossoming-lotus

New Website: Breaking The Cycles

https://breakingthecycles.co.uk/

breakingthecycles.co.uk

It has affected all my relationships and has colored my thinking and responses to my environment for my entire life. I’m immensely relieved I don’t remember the actual incidents and I’m so grateful to my brain for sparring me from these injustices. I do know that spiritually I was assisted to survive. Why? Because I had the inner strength to bear what happened to me and the urge to understand why it happened. And I’m compelled to write about it to help myself and others.

I AM Here

I am here, against all odds, a healthy adult who isn’t addicted, who has a functioning family with a loving husband, great friends, and healthy, happy adult children. I beat the odds, but it takes so much effort on my part to protect and nurture my mental health.

Do the work for yourself because it’s worth it. I’m writing this article which helps expel the demons after these kinds of dreams. I also wrote two psychological thriller books based on my childhood to help myself and others recognize the type of abuse we’ve endured and the behaviors it drives. The books also show how my intent for a better life is the biggest reason why I didn’t fall into the dysfunctional family cycle. I also promised myself I would be financially independent to ensure I could live my life on my own terms. If you’re financially dependent on someone it’s hard to live life on your own terms.

Don’t be afraid to feel your feelings, write them down, talk them out, and let them go. Live the best possible life for yourself. Don’t let your past or current circumstances defeat you. Your life can change with your mindset.

Figure It Out

I used to have nightmares a lot when I was younger, but they have lessened with therapy and depression medication. I’m on a new medication and I think it may be the cause of the nightmares resurfacing. Or it could be another layer of healing is occurring. I’m not sure, but I will figure it out. It’s what I do.

The first thing I did when I woke up from the nightmare was to tell my husband and let him comfort me for a bit. Right after that, I got up and worked out for 30 minutes. Movement really helps the mind and the body. It’s a daily practice for me.

I’ve also learned to redirect my thoughts when they go down a negative path. Be aware of your mental chatter, all too often it is negative and defeating.

The healing journey doesn’t end. I strive to know and understand myself. I also understand what drove my parents’ behavior. Understanding does help you let it go. My parents had many demons they didn’t heal from, and it shows. My father committed suicide and my mother attempted it. I don’t want to say they did their best; I think that statement gives them more credit than they deserve. My parents did what they could in their own time.

Now we know so much more about what can be done to heal. It may sound like I’m really struggling, but I’m spewing the ugliness I feel into words to let it go. I release this ugliness because it doesn’t belong to me. I’m not the cause. Words and actions are powerful.

I also write to educate others who’ve had similar experiences. I have a daily practice of exercise, meditation, and prayer. I constantly redirect my thoughts to live in the now and not focus on my past bad experiences. I work on my mental health like it’s my job. I want you to do the same.

I’m sending you big hugs, love, and intent for your own healing journey.

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.

LeeAnn Werner

LeeAnn Werner is an author and speaker regarding dysfunctional families. Her books, The Illusion of a Girl and The Illusion of a Boy are young adult thrillers based on her own childhood where she struggled to survive her violent alcoholic father. She hopes her story inspires others to move beyond their dysfunctional families and stop the cycle of abuse. You can check out her webpage and blog at www.illusionofagirl.com.

Triggers

When I talk about triggers, I mean anything that triggers a flashback or memory of childhood abuse. A trigger is usually sensory and triggered by one or more of our five senses (smell, taste, touch, sight, and hearing). All survivors are unique in their healing journey and what happened to one survivor is different from another because of our abuse stories. That means that our triggers are different too. Some survivors may get triggered by objects like rope, cable ties, or handcuffs, whereas another survivor may find certain sounds or smells tricky. Another survivor may find certain foods tricky to handle or see something happen like an argument. A survivor may also be triggered by multi-sensory events. Triggers do exist and they are everywhere. Most of the time we learn what to avoid so we don’t get triggered but other times we may get caught in complete surprise and I’m talking about bad surprises here, not the good kind!

I am a survivor of child sexual abuse and horrific trauma. I have lived with triggers all my life. Life is always going to have good days and bad days but for an individual suffering from Complex PTSD, some bad days can be overwhelmingly painful. I have been there many times and I hope my experience of how I got myself out of this darkness will help you – my fellow survivors.

In this blog, I aim to explore what happens to an individual during a nightmare and techniques on how we can overcome these and return our bodies back to normal. I am only describing my own experience here from a survivor’s viewpoint. I am not a doctor or a psychiatrist. If you are suffering from persistent nightmares, consider seeking professional help if you feel overwhelmed. Believe me when I say, I have been there and I know how painful nightmares can be.

The physical traits of a nightmare

Recognize some of this or maybe all of it? 

You go to bed, fall asleep, only to wake up suddenly to a room shrouded in complete darkness. You are dripping with sweat as you sit up like a lightning rod, pulling off the comforter and panting like you are running a marathon but the air doesn’t seem to go into your lungs. You pant harder, faster and you try and scream but no sound comes out. Your heart is drumming so hard in your chest that it feels like it’s about to rip out of your body and pound out of the room. All your muscles are tense, eyes wide open but not seeing anything apart from the nightmare that woke you up. You may even be living the nightmare, half awake and half asleep. Then you hear yourself scream, the most earth-shattering scream that can be heard a mile away. The scream wakes up the neighbors.

Waking up like this is terrifying because your unconscious mind has given you a nightmare of a horrific memory from your childhood. Your mind may have retrieved this memory and it feels like you are re-living it just like it happened. You are feeling disoriented and confused when you wake up. You have no clue where you are, who you are with, and what time it is. Sometimes you don’t even remember who you are and how old you are. Having a nightmare of child abuse that happened decades previously is not an easy thing to go through or explain to loved ones. Yet, most survivors do have regular nightmares to varying degrees of severity. Some are easy to handle and others can take days to process afterward. Those are the kind that spills into your conscious mind. They run on constant flashing movies, like a bee in your bonnet that refuses to go away.

So, how do you handle nightmares?

It can take a few minutes to get your bearings when you wake up suddenly from a vivid, often traumatic, nightmare. This is how I handle most of my nightmares. My husband is usually next to me and wakes me up by touching my hand and shaking it gently, drawing me back to the present. He knows not to overwhelm me by hugging me because that makes me lash out at him believing at that moment he is my abuser. If I don’t respond and am still in my nightmare he rubs my back and that repetitive action wakes me. The comfort of being touched and his voice grounds me back to the present moment. He then turns the light on and talks to me in a soothing voice reminding me of where I am and what year it is.

When my husband is traveling and I wake from a nightmare, it takes me much longer to “come back” to the present. I find that “Grounding techniques” work best in the pitch black of the bedroom. At first, I look around the room and try and make sense of the shadows around me as I calm my breathing. As I realize my nightmare is losing its grip on me and I wake, the room is still just darkness and often deadly silent. Most often I start panicking and I scream but then suddenly something in the room brings me back to the present moment and I grasp that I am no longer in my nightmare but I am somewhere else. The shadows are different and confusion hits me.  I then mentally tell myself my name, how old I am, where I am, and where I live. I remind myself of my life, and my kids and by this point, I am back in the present and reach for the light. It still takes me a while to get my breath back and stop shaking. I notice my breathing and I take charge of my body by breathing controlled breaths in and out, pause, in and out, pause, etc. I feel my heartbeat slow down and then I tense and relax my muscles in turn starting from my face down to my toes. This is also my mental check to make sure I am still in one piece and not hurt. Yes, that may sound strange but if a nightmare is about being stabbed in the stomach then the first thing I do is to check my stomach for bleeding. The same thing goes for nightmares about being raped. The first thing I check is that I am not hurt or bleeding. Once I have got down to my toes, my body is no longer tense and I have got my control back. A cup of herbal tea helps calm me further or I might be exhausted and fall back to sleep.

How can you prevent nightmares?

This is a personal question because we are all different in our healing journeys and we are different as human beings. I know what my personal triggers are and I also know that some things can easily turn into triggers. I can only speak about my own experience in reducing triggers and some might help you with yours. I try not to be on my cell phone or on the computer right before I go to bed. I also avoid movies and TV shows that are scary right before bed as I know those could trigger me, especially sexual violence and murders. I like to listen to music to calm down.

If I have had a nightmare that keeps coming back, I try and expose it and thereby reducing its effect and grip on me. I write about my nightmares and I talk about them to selected individuals. It helps to expose these memories and deal with how they affect me. A lot of my very early childhood memories come back often and those are the ones I find hard to process myself. I go to a therapist who helps me with these deeper memories. The ability to reflect and talk about trauma memories is something survivors find difficult. This is because we were young children and we did not understand what was happening to us or our bodies at the time of abuse. It is impossible to explain something we don’t fully understand. Part of our healing journey is trying to understand what happened as well as come to terms with how it has and still is affecting our lives.

When I am ready to go to bed, I try and make myself as calm and relaxed as possible. I enjoy reading and writing and those activities calm me down. Sometimes I pick up my guitar and play for a while. When I am ready and put on my pajamas, I leave all my stresses and worries behind with the washing. I go through getting ready for bed and mentally clear my mind. I say my prayers and relax in bed.

Going to bed for me is a ritual similar to putting a child to bed. I try and calm myself down as much as possible and I never go to bed angry. If I have something on my mind that won’t go away, I try and reason it away or mentally shelf it for the next day. Sometimes, I try a few mindfulness exercises like telling myself 3 good things that happened that day or 3 things I am grateful for. Focusing on the positive can be hard after a difficult day, but it is worth it.

I hope that some of my experiences of dealing with nightmares are of help to you, my fellow survivors. Take care of yourself and remember that you are not alone.

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 and Terms of Service.

Elizabeth Woods

For more about me: https://www.elizabethwoodsauthor.com

Elizabeth Woods grew up in a world of brutal sex offenders, murderers, and inconceivably neglectful adults. Elizabeth is passionate about spreading awareness of what it is like to survive after trauma. She is the author of several books and has written her memoir, telling her childhood story: The Sex-Offender’s Daughter: A True Story of Survival Against All Odds, available on Amazon Kindle and paperback.

Elizabeth is also the author of “Living with Complex PTSD” and the Cedar’s Port Fiction series: “Saving Joshua”, “Protecting Sarah”, “Guarding Noah” and “Bringing Back Faith,” and “Restoring Hope,” available here: https://www.amazon.com/stores/author/B0BCBZQN7L/allbooks?ingress=0&visitId=7e223b5b-1a29-45f0-ad9d-e9c8fdb59e9c&ref_=ap_rdr&ccs_id=931f96e2-c220-4765-acc8-cc99bb95e8bd

www.elizabethwoodsauthor.com/