Self-Acceptance | CPTSDfoundation.org

Anger: Is It the Poison Slowly Killing You, or the Antidote That Can Save You?

Ellen Tift — Wed, 06 May 2026 10:00:00 +0000

Tobie’s Story

Tobie sat in their car, knuckles white against the steering wheel, jaw clenched so tight their teeth might crack. They had just left yet another family gathering where their boundaries were trampled, their feelings dismissed, and their experiences minimized. The familiar heat rose in their chest, spreading up their neck, making their ears burn.

“Stop it,” they whispered to themselves. “Just let it go. You’re overreacting.”

But the anger wouldn’t subside. Instead, it swirled inside Tobie like a storm gathering strength. They’d learned early that anger wasn’t welcome in their childhood home. “Don’t you dare raise your voice.” “Stop being so sensitive.” “You have nothing to be angry about.” These messages had been hammered into them since before they could remember.

And yet here it was again—this overwhelming force that felt too big for their body. Tobie didn’t know what to do with it. Sometimes they’d push it down until it became a hard, cold stone in their stomach. Other times, it would erupt unexpectedly, leaving damaged relationships and crushing shame in its wake.

As they sat there trying to breathe, tears of frustration welling up, Tobie wondered: Was this anger poisoning them from within? Or was it trying to tell them something important—something they needed to hear?

Understanding Anger: What It Really Is

Anger is one of our primary emotions—as natural and necessary as joy, sadness, or fear. At its core, anger is information. It’s your mind and body’s alert system telling you that something isn’t right, that a boundary has been crossed, or that you or someone you care about may be in danger.

Physically, anger is an energy surge designed to prepare you for action. Your heart rate increases, muscles tense, breathing quickens, and stress hormones flood your system. This physical response evolved to help us survive threats. When we perceive an injustice or threat, our bodies prepare us to protect ourselves.

But for survivors of narcissistic abuse and complex trauma, anger becomes complicated. When you’ve grown up in an environment where expressions of anger were punished, where your emotional needs were invalidated, or where anger was wielded as a weapon against you, your relationship with this emotion becomes distorted.

Many survivors learned early that anger was:

Forbidden (“Nice people don’t get angry”)

Dangerous (“If I show anger, I’ll be abandoned or punished”)

Sinful (“Anger is a sin that separates you from God”)

Unproductive (“Anger doesn’t solve anything”)

A weakness (“You’re too sensitive/emotional”)

These messages create a deep confusion. Your anger arises naturally in response to mistreatment, yet you’ve been taught it’s wrong to feel it. This contradiction creates internal conflict that can last decades.Subscribed

A Roadmap for This Journey

In this article, we’ll explore the complex relationship between trauma and anger, looking at when anger acts as a poison in our lives and when it serves as a much-needed antidote. We’ll examine different types of anger, how it affects our bodies and brains, and practical ways to work with this powerful emotion rather than against it.

If you’re feeling shame about your anger or hopelessness about ever having a healthy relationship with it, know that this article offers concrete tools and perspectives that can help. Many trauma survivors have transformed their relationship with anger from one of fear and avoidance to one of respect and partnership. You can too.

We’ll move from understanding anger at the individual level to examining how it functions in broader contexts like communities and systems. Throughout, we’ll return to our central question: Is anger the poison that’s making you sick, or is it the antidote to what’s actually poisoning you?

The Many Faces of Anger

Anger, like a fluid, takes different forms depending on its container and circumstances. For trauma survivors, it may show up in various ways:

Righteous Anger: The pure, clean anger that rises when witnessing injustice—either against yourself or others. This form of anger has propelled social movements, inspired change, and protected the vulnerable. It’s the anger that says, “This is wrong, and it needs to stop.”

Protective Anger: The fierce energy that rises to defend yourself or loved ones. For many survivors, they can access anger on behalf of others long before they can feel it for themselves. “How dare they treat my friend that way?” often comes more easily than “How dare they treat ME that way?”

Repressed Anger: Anger that’s been pushed down and denied, often resurfacing as depression, anxiety, or physical ailments. Many trauma survivors become experts at swallowing their anger, not even recognizing it as such.

Internalized Anger: When anger turns inward, becoming self-criticism, self-harm, or self-sabotage. “I hate myself for letting this happen” is internalized anger that’s lost its true direction.

Chronic Rage: A constant state of anger that becomes a baseline emotion, coloring all experiences. This often happens when there’s been no safe outlet or validation for legitimate anger over a long period.

Vengeful Anger: The desire to make perpetrators suffer as you have suffered. While a natural response to significant harm, this form of anger can become consuming if not addressed.

Coercive Anger: Using anger as a tool to control others, much like abusers do. Some survivors unconsciously adopt this pattern after seeing it modeled.

Displacement: Directing anger at safer targets rather than its true source. Snapping at a cashier when you’re really angry at your abusive parent is displacement.

Understanding which form your anger takes is the first step toward working with it rather than against it.

Anger in the Body: How It Feels When You’ve Been Disconnected

Many trauma survivors have become so accustomed to pushing anger away that they no longer recognize its physical signatures. Reconnecting with how anger feels in your body can help you identify and work with this emotion before it becomes overwhelming.

Anger might show up as:

A tightness or heat in your chest or throat

Clenched jaw or teeth grinding

Tension in your shoulders, neck, or fists

A knot or churning in your stomach

Shallow, rapid breathing

Feeling flushed or hot in your face and neck

Restlessness or the need to move/pace

Headaches or pressure behind your eyes

A surge of energy through your arms and legs

Difficulty concentrating on anything else

Unexpected tears or crying when trying to express yourself strongly

A feeling of pressure that seems to need release

For those who’ve disconnected from anger, these sensations might be misinterpreted as anxiety, panic, or even illness. Learning to name these feelings as anger is an important step toward healing.

For many people, especially those socialized as female, anger often comes out as tears—which can be incredibly frustrating when you want to appear strong or be taken seriously. If this happens to you, know that it’s a common physiological response, not a sign of weakness. Some people find that acknowledging this pattern out loud (“I’m not sad, I’m angry, and my body expresses anger through tears”) can help others understand what’s really happening.

The Neurobiology of Anger After Trauma

Understanding what happens in your brain and body when you experience anger can help normalize and manage these intense feelings.

When you experience a trigger, your brain’s alarm system (the amygdala) activates, sending signals that prepare your body for fight or flight. For trauma survivors, this system is often oversensitive due to past danger, meaning you might have stronger, faster anger responses even to minor threats.

At the same time, trauma can impact the part of your brain responsible for logical thinking and impulse control (the prefrontal cortex). This can make it harder to “think through” your anger in the moment.

“Flooding” occurs when your nervous system becomes overwhelmed with stress hormones, effectively shutting down your ability to think clearly. This explains why you might say or do things in anger that you later regret—your rational brain becomes less accessible during extreme emotional activation.

For those with complex trauma, the nervous system often operates from a place of chronic hyperarousal. Your baseline anxiety level is already high, so it takes much less to push you into anger or rage. This isn’t a character flaw—it’s your brain and body trying to protect you based on past experiences.

When Your Reaction Seems “Too Big”

Have you ever felt embarrassed by how strongly you reacted to something that seemed small? There’s a saying in trauma therapy: “If it’s hysterical, it’s historical.” This means that when your reaction seems disproportionate to the current situation, it might be connected to your history of trauma.

For example, a simple comment from a friend might trigger an intense anger response not because the comment itself was so terrible, but because it echoed similar comments from years of emotional abuse. Your nervous system doesn’t distinguish between past and present threats—it just recognizes a familiar pattern and sounds the alarm.

This doesn’t mean your feelings aren’t valid. They absolutely are. But understanding the connection between past wounds and present triggers can help you navigate these intense emotions with more self-compassion. It’s not that you’re “overreacting”—it’s that you’re responding to the cumulative weight of many similar experiences, not just the current one.

Leave a comment

When Anger Becomes Poison

Like any powerful medicine, anger can heal or harm depending on how it’s used. Anger becomes poisonous when:

It’s chronic and unprocessed: Anger that remains unaddressed over time creates a state of constant stress. Your body stays flooded with stress hormones, wearing down your immune system, heart, and other vital functions. Chronic anger has been linked to heart disease, digestive problems, weakened immunity, and shorter lifespans.

It consumes your thoughts: When angry thoughts play on endless loop, they steal your present moment and your peace. This rumination keeps wounds fresh and prevents healing.

It becomes your primary identity: When “angry victim” becomes your main way of seeing yourself, it can keep you stuck in pain rather than moving toward healing.

It leads to harmful behaviors: Using anger to justify hurting yourself or others perpetuates cycles of harm rather than breaking them.

It prevents connection: When unmanaged anger becomes a wall between you and potential support, it isolates you when you most need connection.

It blinds you to nuance: Anger can sometimes create black-and-white thinking that oversimplifies complex situations and people.

It masks deeper emotions: Sometimes anger serves as a cover for more vulnerable feelings that may be harder to access or express. When we only experience the surface anger without recognizing what’s beneath it—like hurt, fear, disappointment, grief, or shame—we miss important information about our needs and experiences.

When Anger Is the Antidote

For many trauma survivors, accessing healthy anger is actually a crucial part of healing. Anger can be the antidote when:

It helps you recognize mistreatment: For those gaslit into doubting their perceptions, anger often emerges as the first clear signal that something is wrong. That surge of “No, this isn’t right!” can be the beginning of trusting yourself again.

It provides motivation to change: Anger can be the fuel that powers you out of harmful situations and into better ones. Many survivors report that anger was what finally gave them the strength to leave abusive relationships or set firm boundaries.

It restores your sense of worth: Feeling angry about mistreatment implies that you deserved better—a revolutionary concept for many trauma survivors. Anger says, “I matter enough to be treated well.”

It reconnects you with your power: Anger reminds you that you can take action and effect change. For those who’ve felt helpless, this reconnection with personal power is healing.

It validates your experience: Allowing yourself to feel angry about abuse confirms that what happened to you was wrong. This counteracts the minimization and denial that often accompany trauma.

It provides an exoskeleton: Anger can sometimes function as an exoskeleton—a hard outer shell that keeps you functioning when otherwise you might collapse. While not a permanent solution, this protective function of anger can be necessary during certain phases of healing.

It sets necessary boundaries: Healthy anger helps you establish and maintain the boundaries needed for your well-being, often for the first time.

It counteracts toxic shame: For many trauma survivors, existential shame—the false belief that there is something inherently wrong with you—acts as a poison in the psyche. Healthy anger can be the antidote to this shame, asserting “What happened to me was wrong” instead of “I am wrong.”

It cuts through numbness: When trauma has caused emotional numbing or dissociation, anger can sometimes be the first emotion strong enough to break through, reconnecting you with your capacity to feel.

Strategic Anger: The Medicine Cabinet

For some trauma survivors, especially those still in harmful relationships, anger can serve a critical purpose—not as poison hurting you now, but as a medicine you keep ready for when you need it.

When Holding Onto Anger Serves a Purpose

Malina’s relationship followed a painful cycle—criticism and control, followed by tearful apologies and promises to change. Each time, she felt her anger rise, but then questioned herself: “Maybe this time is different. Maybe I’m overreacting.” She forgave, her anger faded, and the cycle began again.

Over time, Malina realized that without her anger, she couldn’t maintain the resolve to leave. Each time she forgave, she lost the emotional fuel that almost propelled her to safety. So she chose to hold onto her anger—not out of spite, but as a resource. She wasn’t being vindictive; she was preserving medicine she knew she’d need.

This isn’t bitterness or rumination. It’s a conscious choice. In harmful situations—where leaving is constrained by finances, custody, health, or safety—anger can be a vital fuel for self-protection and eventual escape.

Anger as Protection Against Premature Vulnerability

“I can’t afford to let go of my anger yet,” Devon told his therapist. “If I do, I’ll start believing things are fine and drop my guard.” Devon’s anger wasn’t stubbornness—it was a shield, protecting him from vulnerability with someone who had repeatedly broken his trust.

In unsafe situations, releasing anger too soon can leave you exposed. It keeps you alert to patterns you might otherwise dismiss and guards you against the pull of gaslighting.

When Anger Preservation Happens Unconsciously

Sometimes, anger is preserved without conscious effort. Your nervous system, attuned to danger from past experiences, might maintain a level of protective anger without your deliberate effort. You might pick fights, remember past hurts seemingly “out of nowhere,” or feel irritable around someone who has harmed you—even when things seem fine.

Rather than judging this as “holding onto the past,” consider that your body might be protecting you in the most effective way it knows. Tobie, who we met at the beginning of this article, later realized their anger after family gatherings wasn’t just about what had happened that day—it was a safeguard rooted in a lifetime of boundary violations.

Timing Matters

Long-term, the goal is to process anger in ways that free you from its weight. But sometimes, the wisest choice is to say, “I’m not ready to release this anger yet. It’s keeping me safe.”

To use anger strategically, consider:

Containing it temporarily so it doesn’t overwhelm your daily life. You might visualize placing it in a secure container you can open when needed.

Distinguishing between strategic anger and harmful rumination. Are you maintaining awareness of critical truths, or endlessly recycling pain?

Acknowledging that this is a temporary strategy. In time, developing other protective skills will allow for fuller healing.

Being compassionate with yourself. Preserving anger for safety is an adaptive choice—not a failure.

Anger, when recognized as medicine rather than poison, becomes a resource—protecting you until you’re ready to create lasting safety and healing.

Processing Anger: From Poison to Antidote

The goal isn’t to eliminate anger but to transform it from a destructive force into a constructive one. Here are some approaches to begin this transformation:

Name it to tame it

Simply acknowledging “I am feeling angry right now” begins to engage your thinking brain and reduces alarm system activation. This simple act creates a tiny bit of space between you and the emotion, making it more manageable.

Practice: Next time you notice anger rising, pause and say (aloud or to yourself): “I am feeling angry right now. This is anger moving through my body.” Notice if this creates even a small shift in your experience.

Find the message in your anger

Anger always carries information. It might be telling you about:

A boundary that’s been crossed

A need that isn’t being met

A value that’s been violated

An old wound that’s been triggered

An injustice that needs addressing

Find more clarity by writing the following:

What specifically triggered my anger? (Describe the situation)

What boundary of mine might have been crossed?

What need of mine isn’t being met?

Does this remind me of something from my past?

What would need to change for me to feel better?

If you’re having trouble identifying what’s beneath your anger, it can help to complete this sentence: “I’m angry because I didn’t get/have/receive _______.” or “I’m angry because _______ happened and it wasn’t fair/right/acceptable.”

Breaking the Rumination Cycle

When anger becomes repetitive thoughts that play on endless loop—replaying offenses or imagining confrontations—it can transform from a protective force into a drain on your well-being. This rumination keeps wounds fresh and steals your present moment.

For trauma survivors, rumination often serves a purpose: it can help identify patterns in abusive behavior and validate your experiences when you’ve been gaslighted. This is why simply telling yourself to “stop thinking about it” rarely works. Part of you may rightfully sense that this thinking process, painful as it is, serves a protective function.

However, when rumination becomes constant, it can keep you stuck in a state of heightened stress without moving you toward healing. Finding balance is key. Here are a few approaches that honor rumination’s protective intent while creating more space in your life:

Set boundaries around rumination: Rather than ruminating throughout the day, designate specific times to process these thoughts. “I’ll think about this during my 30-minute walk, but not while I’m with my children.” This contains the process without dismissing its importance.

Capture the insights: Keep a journal where you record patterns and realizations that emerge from your anger-based rumination. This validates that your mental work has purpose and creates a record you can refer to instead of needing to constantly keep the thoughts active.

Interrupt the physical cycle: When rumination feels overwhelming, change your physical state. Stand up, stretch, splash cold water on your face, or engage in brief intense exercise. This physical pattern-break can momentarily disrupt the thought cycle.

Engage your senses: Ground yourself in the present moment by naming five things you can see, four you can touch, three you can hear, two you can smell, and one you can taste. This simple practice activates different neural pathways and provides temporary relief.

Remember that becoming skilled at managing rumination takes practice. Each time you gently redirect your thinking, you’re creating more choice about when and how to process your anger—even if the rumination returns minutes later. With consistent practice, you can develop more control over when you engage with these thoughts rather than having them control you.

Address the physical energy of anger

Anger creates a surge of energy meant for action. Finding safe ways to discharge this energy can prevent it from getting stuck in your body. If physical exercise feels overwhelming due to exhaustion from CPTSD or other health issues, even small movements can help:

Gentle options: Slowly squeezing and releasing your hands, shoulder rolls, gentle swaying, humming or making sounds, taking a short walk, rocking back and forth

Moderate options: Tearing paper, kneading dough or clay, gentle stretching, measured breathing

More vigorous options: Dancing, walking briskly, cleaning, gardening

High intensity options: Running, swimming, martial arts, screaming in a private space

Even if your anger feels hard-wired into your nervous system and too overwhelming to discharge, starting with just 30 seconds of one of these activities can begin to shift the physical experience.Subscribed

Express it appropriately

Learning to voice your anger in ways that aren’t destructive is a crucial skill. In situations where it’s safe to express your feelings directly:

Instead of: “You always ignore me, you’re so selfish!” Try: “I feel hurt and angry when my needs aren’t acknowledged.”

If you’re dealing with someone who might weaponize your “I feel” statements or use them against you, you might need more direct communication: “That doesn’t work for me.” “I’m not available for this conversation right now.” “I need to step away.” “This behavior is unacceptable.”

Remember that appropriate expression doesn’t always mean saying something in the moment. Sometimes writing a letter you never send or speaking your truth to a trusted friend is the safest way to express your feelings.

Look beneath the anger

Often, what appears as anger on the surface is actually masking more vulnerable emotions that might feel unsafe to express directly. Once the immediate intensity of anger subsides, ask yourself what else you might be feeling.

Common emotions beneath anger include:

Hurt: “I’m hurt that my needs weren’t considered.”

Fear: “I’m afraid this means I don’t matter.”

Disappointment: “I expected to be treated with respect.”

Grief: “I’m sad about what this relationship isn’t.”

Shame: “I feel exposed or humiliated.”

Helplessness: “I can’t control what’s happening.”

Write it out

Journaling about your anger—especially in uncensored, unfiltered ways that you don’t share with others—can help process the emotion without causing harm. Try writing a letter to the person you’re angry with that you don’t send, or simply dump all your thoughts onto paper without filtering.

Channel it constructively

Many survivors transform their anger into advocacy, creativity, or service that helps others. This doesn’t mean toxic “turning lemons into lemonade” thinking, but rather finding meaning that emerges organically from your experience.

Remember that anger’s visit is temporary

Even though it can feel eternal in the moment, anger, like all emotions, will naturally rise and fall if you don’t cling to it or push it away. If you’ve been angry for as long as you can remember, this might be hard to believe—but even chronic anger has waves and fluctuations. Noticing when your anger is even slightly less intense can help you recognize that it isn’t a permanent state, even if it’s been with you for a very long time.

If any of these approaches feel overwhelming or out of reach right now, that’s completely understandable. Trauma can make working with strong emotions particularly challenging. Keep reading for guidance on what to do when anger feels unresolvable.

Read the rest of this article in Ellen’s first book of her “There’s A Word for That” series: https://a.co/d/02U7m1gT

Copyright Notice: This excerpt is from my book. All content is © 2025 Worldwide Groove Corporation. Unauthorized reproduction, distribution, or use of this material without permission is prohibited. Thank you for respecting my work. 😊

This article is in the first book of Ellen’s series “There’s A Word for That”. Order on paperback or Kindle here https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0FKJ8YJ2F

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

Ellen Tift

Ellen Tift** is a longtime university educator, veteran musician, and trauma-informed writer. After three decades as a music professor, she now brings the same clarity, depth, and care to her work on narcissistic abuse, betrayal trauma, and Complex PTSD.

A survivor herself, Ellen combines lived experience with extensive research to offer insight that’s both emotionally validating and intellectually grounded in language that’s easy to understand. Her writing speaks to fellow survivors with warmth, precision, and hard-earned wisdom.

Her book series, _There’s A Word For That_, began its release in 2025 on Amazon and Kindle. Designed for overwhelmed minds and hurting hearts, each volume can be read in small doses, with skimmable headings and stand-alone sections that meet readers right where they are.

Additional Terms and disclaimers for images used in my posts on CPTSD Foundation.

www.ellentift.com

Self-Worth Vs Self-Esteem: Does it really matter how we view ourselves?

Elizabeth Woods — Mon, 04 May 2026 10:00:00 +0000

We don’t often think about ourselves. Most of the time, we don’t take regular breaks at work.

Who cares what you think about yourself?

Well, you do–yes, really. The reason is that you matter, and your presence in this world matters.

Think about the last meaningful conversation that you had with someone. What happened, and how did you leave it? Did you feel happy about it, or not?

Why did you feel that way?

Everything you do in life matters, and believe it or not, people do pay attention.

Think about the last time you made a stupid mistake. How quickly did people notice and comment? Did someone make a joke at your expense?

How about the last time you did something amazing–like getting your first year sober, or passing an exam? People notice these things and want to celebrate your successes.

I used to think no one noticed me, but when I looked for evidence, I found clear examples of people hearing, seeing, and noticing me.

My point is, we don’t often pause and think about ourselves because we are too busy. But by ignoring our feelings, we miss more than we can ever consider.

Think about someone who makes you happy. It could be a family member or a good friend.

What’s special about them? What do you value in them?

Do they have a great sense of humor? Maybe they’re a good listener, or someone with positive energy? Perhaps you value their kindness the most? Maybe they have some other qualities that sets them apart from others.

Someone told me recently that they like being with me because “I made them feel seen,” because I listen.

Now turn those same questions to yourself.

What’s special about you? What qualities do people value in you? What type of friend and colleague are you? What sets you apart from others?

What comments do you get from people?

How do you feel about yourself? Is your answer positive, balanced, or negative?

How do you think your perceptions affect your life?

Self-worth vs. self-esteem

These two words sound similar, but they do have different meanings.

Self-worth is the way you value yourself. It is the way you believe in yourself–that you are good enough to receive love, respect, and kindness from other people.

People with low self-esteem generally have a negative view of themselves. They are usually quick to judge or evaluate themselves by criticizing their own actions, brushing off compliments, and focusing on mistakes.

Living without self-worth makes is very difficult to put yourself first. For example, you may not go for that opportunity because you feel other people are better than you. You might stay in an abusive relationship because you don’t feel that you deserve better from life.

You are the one who initiates what happens in your life. It all starts with you. Your overall health is important because it affects the ways in which you feel, think, and behave.

Having low self-worth puts you at risk for many health conditions, like anxiety and depression. Over time, these can lead to problems such as phobias and substance abuse.

Self-esteem relies on external factors like successes and achievements. It can change how you value yourself with life’s ups and downs.

A breakup can make you feel low for weeks–even months afterward. A failed college exam can have a similar effect on your mood and how you see yourself.

An abusive relationship can put a major dent in your self-esteem and make you feel bad about yourself.

Don’t let life bring you down.

It’s time you look up and put yourself first. Who else is going to look out for you?

People who are happy generally have high self-esteem and self-worth. They take greater care of themselves by making better life choices and live fuller lives. They know their own strengths and limitations, and face life’s challenges with resilience.

It’s not selfish to take care of yourself.

Many people struggle with self-worth and self-esteem. The great thing is that you can learn to see yourself in a more positive light with some practice.

Turning it around

Self-compassion is great way to start feeling better about yourself. Start each day by being kind to yourself. Instead of seeing mistakes and flaws, think about yourself the same way as you see your loved ones, and those you value most.

Treat yourself with respect instead of criticizing everything you say and do. Remind yourself every now and again that it’s okay to make mistakes. You’ll soon notice the difference in your attitude.

Take notice of how you are feeling, and own those feelings. You’ll start to feel much more in tune with yourself–and with those around you.

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

If you like reading my posts, then please follow me.

For more about me: www.elizabethwoodsauthor.com

Support your fellow writer:

https://ko-fi.com/elizabe69245484

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

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/

15 Things To Do When Facing Uncertainty

Elizabeth Woods — Tue, 31 Mar 2026 10:00:00 +0000

Hey, how are you doing today? Are you having a good day or a “not so great day?”

Do you feel valued right now?

In a world where everything is falling apart around us, it’s hard to feel valued. There are too many layoffs and new staff being hired that need training.

You might have those dark thoughts that creep into your head on your commute to work when you are alone in the car. You might be queuing in the grocery store after work one day, and it’s taking longer than it should when those thoughts meander back into your consciousness.

Are you happy right now?

Are you good enough?

Are you wondering if you will be furloughed or laid off next?

When we face uncertainty in life, we naturally turn inwards. We turn to our friends and loved ones to regain our balance. It’s during these conversations and reflections that we start to see things in a different way.

We know there is no point in worrying about things that are out of our control, but if our jobs are on the line, we can’t help it. There’s too much at stake if we are in a position to lose a steady paycheck. It’s hard to see beyond that, and those self-defeating thoughts can worm into our lives. They usually eat away at our self-esteem and confidence.

There are many things you can do to feel better when faced with uncertainty. I’ve faced uncertainty and challenges many times as a trauma survivor and beyond. What I’ve learned is that no matter what, you must keep on living. You’ve come so far to get to this point, and no matter what happens in life , you are in charge of it.

I believe my experience can help you, my readers, to find solace and feel better even if you are having a tough time. I’ve compiled a list of things that I do to feel better.

Here are 15 things to do when you face uncertainty:

Acceptance. Be honest with yourself: say what you are feeling and why. Acknowledging how you feel can help you tackle those emotions. Accept that you cannot please everyone, no matter how hard you try. We all have our imperfections and quirky behaviors. It’s what makes us human beings.
Take care of you first. If you have had a difficult day when the boss has been riding you every moment, recognize that stress. Practice self-care and use grounding techniques and mindfulness. Notice your breath as you breathe out the anger and stress.
Exercise is a great de-stressor. I love going for a swim or a run when I’m stressed. Maybe exercising can benefit you too.
Think of short-term goals that you can achieve when you are feeling overwhelmed. These are things you can control, like your daily routines and home life. Focus on short tasks that you can do straight away to feel a sense of achievement.
Reach out to friends and family. Talk about how you are feeling and voice those emotions out loud.
Stop comparing yourself to others. Everyone has their own path to lead, and yours is unique to you.
Think about your language. How are you expressing the way you are feeling? Can you say what you are feeling in a better, more positive way?

You tell yourself: “I suck at giving work presentations. My colleagues are way better than me.”

Instead, say: “I’m not that great at giving presentations yet because I haven’t had enough practice. My friends are better than me because they have had more time.”

8. Reduce your stress. If something is making you feel anxious like watching the news or sitting in a traffic jam for hours to and from work — avoid them. Turn off the news and go a different route.

9. Think about your happy place. When you are feeling overwhelmed, it can really help to do something that makes you happy. You might have a letter or a positive message that can give you a boost. Notice that feeling? Now harness that and fill up on the joy for a while.

10. Challenge your reality. Let’s face it, life can be unpredictable and uncertain. Think about why you feel this way? What caused it? Is it your interpretation or factual? What would someone else say / do if they were in the same situation?

11. Put your situation into perspective. When we face uncertainty, emotions get in the way. When we are emotional, we can’t think clearly.

My nan gave me the advice “to never go to bed angry.” I didn’t understand her as a child, but I do now. A fresh perspective without emotion does help.

Ask yourself: What’s the worst that can happen? How likely is this to happen?

What are the repercussions? Will it matter in a year / two years / ten years from now?

12. Reframe your thoughts. Think of how you can turn your uncertain situation into something positive. Could there be an opportunity for growth?

13. Past successes to pave the way for your future. Think about what you have achieved so far in life. How far you have come to get to this point.

14. Gratitude and reflection. Think about all the things that you already have. Your qualities and talents. Your family and friends. Maybe a new change would be good for you?

15. Believe in yourself. If you can believe it — you will achieve it. A positive mental attitude can make a big difference to your outlook in life.

I’ve been through many challenges in my life and I’m still here. Sometimes it’s not about the situation itself but how you move on from it.

How will you handle your uncertainty right now?

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

If you like reading my posts, then please follow me.

For more about me: www.elizabethwoodsauthor.com

Support your fellow writer:

https://ko-fi.com/elizabe69245484

Photo Credit: Unsplash

Elizabeth Woods

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

www.elizabethwoodsauthor.com/

The Dance of Life

Jesse Donahue — Tue, 17 Mar 2026 10:00:00 +0000

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

Jesse Donahue

*Copyright notice. All writings copyrighted and registered with the Library of Congress.

Therapy has helped improve my self-understanding as well as writing skills through journaling and essays. Although this writing journey began in later years, it has led to 70+ essays oriented around issues with CPTSD – a trauma disorder.

My writings, which include therapy notes, poems, novels (unpublished), and essays, are all a part of my ongoing personal therapy. Initially, the essays, intended for my therapist’s eyes only, began with exposing my thoughts, fears, and feelings, or the lack of, onto paper, a journal of therapy notes. Then, with fear overcome and via a personal decision, I shared them with the readers. *My thanks to Paul Michael Marinello, the editor of the CPTSD Foundation. My intent is to encourage readers to recognize traits in themselves and find (if desired) a therapist when they are willing and ready for that step. For some of us, it can be a long and challenging process, over extensive periods, to awaken to the unconscious issues that cause us to act out in life. Our behavior may seem like dancing to a buried, invisible cause we cannot directly see or confront. It is my sincere hope that my insights will assist the reader in the process toward reaching a deeper self-understanding.

Bringing the unconscious out into the light of self-awareness, understanding, and acceptance fosters self-love and the process of change.

Jesse B. Donahue

*Type a keyword into the foundations search engine. (Jesse, Heart, Personal, Twelve, Bugaboo, etc.) Or, Type Jesse Donahue at The CPTSD Foundation on a Google search.

Published with the CPTSD foundation. Top 10 essays in order of number of views:

** Personal Honor, Integrity, Dignity, Honesty
** The Heart of the Matter
* The Smoldering Embers of C-PTSD
* The Hidden Bugaboo (Parts 1-4 of 4)
Twelve Days Without Coffee
Learned Helplessness
Cast Out of Eden by Toxic Shame
*Codependency – Overriding the Monster of Self-Hate
The Emptiness of Yesterday
Surfing the Light Through the Darkness

Natural Limit Systems Design Principles

Danette True — Tue, 03 Feb 2026 11:15:30 +0000

EXISTENCE WITHOUT TASK / ORIENTATION BEFORE ACTION

How Authentic Coordinates Allow Natural Integration to Proceed
(Walking Through the Door, and Back Again: An Enchanted Evergreen Winter’s Welcome–A Threshold Tale)

This is not a journey; it is a placement. It is the slow recognition of safe conditions and coordinates that allow you to move across thresholds—and to return—without ever being lost.

Nothing is being asked of you here. Nothing needs to be fixed or figured out.

“Integration” refers to the natural coordination that occurs when conditions become uninhabitable.

Under chronic threat, human systems naturally adapt by developing extraordinary sensitivity to danger. This adaptation activates involuntary survival states governed by the autonomic nervous system. These states are not responses; they are sequential protective reactions that occur when response is unavailable, prioritizing static survival over variable integration and, when prolonged, contributing to persistent system strain.

Crucially, while the capacity for natural integration is never lost, access to natural passage conditions is unavailable in static survival states. Response—by definition—requires safety, orientational coordinates, motion, and variable neural integration. Without these conditions, the system can only react—because reaction is all that is available.

What are often labeled “trauma responses” are more accurately understood as reactions arising from constrained and uninhabitable environmental conditions.

What appears as incoherence is not failure. It is a brilliant, adaptive, and predictable natural reaction to impossible conditions.

Recognition of these patterns does not indicate failure or something that requires correction.

CPTSD Systemic Design (Constrained / Dis-Oriented)

Uninhabitable Consciousness Load-Bearing Conditions: These are not personal traits. They are environmentally induced system states:
–Compensatory
–Compulsive
–Uncoordinated
–Obstructive
–Containment & Control Patterns
–Non-distributed incoherent integrations
–Punitive subconscious existential-jurisdiction architectures
–Autonomic survival operating systems
–Separation-perception boundary perspectives
–Habitual isolation-maintenance reflexes
–Survival subroutine autocompletions
–Containment overreaction systems
–Closed-circuit circulation monitoring
–Distortion & Interference Patterns
–False-feelings psychic payloads
–Soma-overruling navigational overrides
–Labyrinthine interference patterning
–Overcorrecting emergency substitutions
–Compensatory distortion instability
–Trauma-sequencing shortcuts
–Context-bound survival rules
–Obstructed-reality protective measures
–Fragmentation & Collapse Patterns
–Defensive hypervigilance bracing routines
–Defensive distortion thought processes
–Misattributed role fragmentations
–Coercively collapsed witness-awareness
–Dissociative false-footing reactive stances
–Recursive mortality threat activation

When a natural environmental intelligence-field structure is present, rather than external coercion, instinct aligns into resonant coherence without force. Natural responses become possible without trust ever needing to be invoked at any coordinated systemic point.

NATURAL Systemic Design (Integrated / Oriented)

These are descriptive conditions, not goals or tasks:

–Habitable Consciousness Load-Bearing Conditions
–Fully Coordinated Body-Mind-Being-Awareness
–Safety
–Authenticity
–Coordination
–Continuity
–Unobstruction
–Self-maintenance
–Distribution
–Coherence
–Resonance
–Alignment
–Integration
–Orientation
–Accumulation
–Unobstructed Living.

Evergreen Enchantment

Unobstructed reality. What reality feels like when it no longer has to route itself around trauma, but instead walks through the door and says:

“Welcome back!”

Photo by Jonny Gios 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.

Danette True

Danette True is a writer and systems-thinker focused on trauma-informed healing, embodiment, and humane approaches to individual and collective well-being. Her work explores how safety, structure, and lived experience shape recovery across the lifespan.

Fawn Response: The Trauma Survival Pattern That’s Mistaken for Kindness

Dr. Mozelle Martin — Thu, 05 Jun 2025 10:56:24 +0000

It often looks like compassion. It often gets praised as loyalty. But for many trauma survivors, the behavior known as the fawn response isn’t about kindness—it is about survival.

The fawn response is the least recognized of the four primary trauma reactions: fight, flight, freeze, and fawn. While the first three are more familiar in both psychology and pop culture, fawning often flies under the radar because it doesn’t look like fear. It looks like being helpful, agreeable, and selfless. But under the surface, it’s a survival strategy wired into the nervous system to avoid conflict, maintain attachment, and stay safe.

What Is the Fawn Response?

Coined by therapist Pete Walker, the fawn response refers to a trauma-driven pattern of people-pleasing behaviors designed to diffuse danger when the brain senses threat, especially social or relational threat. The survivor may instinctively placate, appease, or over-accommodate.

Research in polyvagal theory, developed by Dr. Stephen Porges, helps explain why this happens. When fight, flight, or freeze aren’t viable options—as is often the case in childhood trauma, domestic violence, or institutional abuse—the nervous system defaults to fawning to stay safe. It’s a biologically embedded attempt to maintain a connection with those who may also be the source of a threat.

What begins as a protective strategy becomes a deeply ingrained personality pattern. Over time, many survivors confuse the fawn response with their identity, unaware that their constant accommodating is actually trauma playing out in slow motion.

What It Looks Like in Real Life

People who operate from the fawn response often exhibit:

Chronic people-pleasing and approval-seeking
Avoidance of conflict at any cost
Over-apologizing, even when not at fault
Feeling responsible for others’ emotions
Struggling to set or enforce boundaries
Difficulty identifying their own needs

These patterns are often rewarded in society—especially in women and marginalized groups—which makes them even harder to detect. Being seen as “nice,” “helpful,” or “loyal” can reinforce fawning behaviors that are actually rooted in fear, not authenticity.

In professional settings, fawning might look like never saying no to extra tasks, tolerating mistreatment from superiors, or downplaying achievements to avoid attention. In relationships, it can manifest as staying silent about unmet needs, walking on eggshells, or becoming emotionally invisible to preserve peace.

The Psychological Toll of Fawning

Though it appears calm on the surface, the fawn response takes a significant psychological toll. It can lead to:

Emotional exhaustion and burnout
Resentment and repressed anger
Identity erosion (not knowing who you are without others’ needs guiding you)
Depersonalization or dissociation
Anxiety, depression, and complex PTSD

Long-term fawning also inhibits healing. It keeps survivors locked in trauma-informed behavior patterns that prevent true emotional intimacy and self-trust. While other trauma responses may draw more attention, fawning quietly corrodes a survivor’s sense of agency.

Why It’s So Hard to Recognize

Unlike fight or flight, fawning is socially rewarded. Kindness is a virtue, and empathy is crucial in any society—but when those traits are compulsively used to manage fear or prevent abandonment, they become survival tools, not values. That distinction is subtle but critical.

Trauma-informed behavioral profiling shows that fawning is not about being nice—it’s about being safe. Survivors may feel discomfort when praised for being “so easy to work with” or “always willing to help,” because somewhere inside, they know the behavior isn’t truly a choice.

Fawning is often misdiagnosed as low self-esteem or social anxiety. In reality, it’s a deeply rehearsed pattern born from environments where saying no, expressing anger, or having needs led to punishment or withdrawal.

Pathways to Recovery

Healing from the fawn response requires more than setting boundaries. It requires reclaiming the nervous system’s sense of safety.

Some strategies include:

Working with trauma-informed professionals who understand CPTSD and the fawn response
Learning to tolerate the discomfort of healthy conflict
Rebuilding connection to one’s own preferences, needs, and limits
Somatic practices to regulate the nervous system
Reframing self-worth as intrinsic, not earned through service or sacrifice

True kindness is not self-erasure. It’s grounded in authenticity, not appeasement.

Closing Thoughts

Many survivors live decades unaware that their most praised traits—generosity, agreeableness, and loyalty—may actually be coping mechanisms forged in trauma. The fawn response isn’t who you are. It’s survival skills – that is, what you learned to do to stay alive.

Recognizing this pattern isn’t about shame—it’s about clarity. And with clarity comes the quiet power to rewire the fear-driven patterns and rebuild a life led by choice, not compulsion.

This isn’t about fixing your personality. It’s about finally hearing your own voice underneath the noise of survival.

Photo by Adrian Swancar on Unsplash

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 AA in Psychology, a BS in Forensic Psychology, an MA in Criminology, and a PhD in Applied Ethics. As a published author and part-time constitutional law student, she continues to explore the relationship and crossovers of forensic science, mental health, and ethical accountability in both historical and modern contexts.

www.MozelleMartin.com

When Grief Has No Grave: Rebuilding After a Childhood You Never Got

Danica Alison — Wed, 30 Apr 2025 12:25:13 +0000

No one brings you a casserole when you’re grieving the childhood you didn’t have. There’s no funeral for the loss of safety or a sense of belonging. No sympathy cards arrive when the dreams you clung to slowly unravel. And no one tells you what to do when you wake up one day, realizing you have to rebuild a life you didn’t choose to break.

But the grief is still there. Quiet. Confusing. All-consuming. It lingers in the silence. It whispers in the questions. It pulses through the ache of “what could have been” and “what should have been.” And the hardest part? Much of this grief doesn’t have a clear source, an ending, or even a name.

This kind of grief is often called ambiguous loss. It’s what Dr. Pauline Boss describes as a loss that’s unclear, without closure. For those of us healing from complex trauma and childhood abuse, ambiguous loss is everywhere. We grieve things that are hard to define, like the version of ourselves we never got to be, the family we pretended we had, or the safety we told ourselves existed. It’s the pain of losing something that may not have ever truly been there.

There’s the grief of the childhood you didn’t get. Maybe you’ve spent years trying to convince yourself it “wasn’t that bad” or that others “had it worse.” But at some point, in healing, you start to see the cracks. You begin to understand what should have been. You realize that while other kids were being nurtured, protected, and celebrated, you were surviving. That grief runs deep. It’s mourning the little you who was robbed of joy and innocence, without ever realizing it at the time.

Then there’s the grief of the dreams you used to have. Maybe you imagined a life full of love, or a version of success that made it all feel worth it. And now? Now you’re sorting through the wreckage of expectations that were built on survival. You’re letting go of the hope that healing would look a certain way, or that life would one day “make sense.” The grief of unmet dreams isn’t dramatic or cinematic. It’s often quiet. A slow unraveling. A daily reckoning with reality.

And finally, there’s the grief of rebuilding. Starting over, not from scratch, but from scar tissue. Piecing together a new identity after realizing the one you had was shaped by trauma. There’s grief in that too. Grief in the loss of illusion. In the loneliness of transformation. In the deep fatigue that comes from carrying your story and choosing to heal anyway.

So, how do we heal grief like this?

First, we name it. You can’t grieve what you haven’t acknowledged. Maybe it feels silly to mourn something that “wasn’t real” but your body remembers the absence. Your heart knows what it needed and didn’t get. Naming that loss validates it.

Then, we give ourselves permission to mourn. Really mourn. Cry, write, rage, go quiet. There’s no right way to grieve. No rule book. Grief is not a problem to solve. It’s a process to move through with care.

Ritual can help too. It might feel awkward at first, but creating space to honor what’s been lost matters. Light a candle for your inner child. Write a goodbye letter to the version of you that stayed silent. Say out loud the dream you thought would save you. It doesn’t need to be grand. It just needs to be honest.

As we grieve, we start to reimagine who we are becoming. This part is slow and fragile and fierce all at once. We learn to build an identity rooted in truth, not survival. We stop asking who others want us to be and begin asking, “Who do I want to become now?”

And maybe most importantly, we find others who get it. The kind of grief that comes with trauma is lonely. But it doesn’t have to stay that way. When we share our stories, something shifts. We are no longer invisible. We are seen. And when we’re seen, we heal a little more.

Grief isn’t always loud. Sometimes it shows up as exhaustion. Or numbness. Or the quiet ache of realizing that the past cannot be changed, but the future is still yours to shape.

If you are grieving a childhood, you never got…
If you are mourning a dream that never came true…
If you are piecing your life back together, one scarred fragment at a time…

You’re not broken. You’re in process. And that, dear friend, is brave, meaningful work.

A Personal Note:
I didn’t fully understand this kind of grief until I was in it. Until I found myself mourning things I couldn’t even name. If you’re in that space too, I just want you to know that you are not alone. This isn’t the kind of grief most people talk about, but it’s real. And it deserves tenderness. You are worthy of healing, of rebuilding, and of a life that feels like it finally belongs to you. Take your time. Hold your heart gently. You’re doing work that matters.

Cover photo: carolina-ghYHNrzS8pk-unsplash.jpg

Danica Alison

Danica Alison is an optimist, deep thinker, and out-of-the-box adventurer who finds meaning in life’s chaos. She’s a writer, a healing advocate, and someone who believes healing is a journey best traveled with curiosity, humor, and a little bit of rebellious joy.
A lifelong lover of stories, both lived and told. She is passionate about exploring the messy, beautiful process of being human. Whether she’s writing, learning, or connecting with others, she brings a mix of warmth, honesty, and a refusal to fit into neat little boxes.

www.DanicaAlison.com

When the Past Cracks Open: Navigating Repressed CSA Memories in Adulthood

Danica Alison — Thu, 10 Apr 2025 23:56:21 +0000

For most of my life, I had no reason to question my past. I had warm childhood memories, a solid understanding of who I was, and no indication that something darker lurked beneath the surface. But then, seemingly out of nowhere, my mind cracked open, and pieces of a story I never asked for started falling out.

At first, I tried to push them back in, trying to make them fit into the version of my life I had always known. But no matter how much I willed them away, they kept coming—not in full, cohesive scenes, but in flashes, in body sensations, in a deep, unshakable knowing that left me questioning everything.

And that’s when the real battle began.

The Shock of Remembering

Nothing prepares you for the moment your own mind turns against you. One day, you think you know yourself. The next, you are drowning in memories that do not feel like yours but somehow are.

It feels impossible. Unbelievable. Like something you might have read in a book but never expected to happen in your own life. And yet, there it is.

For me, the shock came with a mix of emotions I did not know how to handle. Grief for the childhood I thought I had. Rage that my brain had kept this from me. Terror that if this was true, then nothing in my life had ever been what I thought it was.

And then came the worst question of all: What if I’m making this up?

The “Am I Making This Up?” Spiral

If you have been here, you know the loop.

Why now?
Wouldn’t I have always remembered if it were real?
What if I’m just looking for attention?
What if I planted this idea in my own head somehow?

I wrestled with these thoughts constantly, dissecting every memory fragment, analyzing every feeling, desperate for proof that would make it undeniable. But that proof never came in the way I wanted.

Instead, my body became the evidence. The panic that gripped me in certain situations. The way I froze at a touch, I should have been able to tolerate. The overwhelming nausea, the shaking, the way my mind wanted to flee even when I was safe.

My body had always known, even when my mind did not.

But the doubts were relentless. There were moments when I was certain I had broken completely, that I was unraveling, that soon I would not be able to trust a single thought inside my own head. I had been sure of my past once. If that could change, then what else was not real?

When the World Feels Unreal

One of the hardest things about repressed memories resurfacing is how they shatter your sense of reality. Everything becomes uncertain: your past, your identity, your relationships. And if you are anything like me, you crave certainty. You want someone to confirm what you remember, to tell you it is real, to give you something solid to stand on.

But most of the time, that doesn’t happen.

I started second-guessing everything. I would stare at old photos of myself as a child, looking for signs in my own eyes. Did I look happy? Did I look scared? Could I have been hiding something even from myself?

And then there were the nightmares. The ones that left me gasping for breath, the ones where I woke up drenched in sweat, my body aching in ways I could not explain. My mind tried to tell me they were just dreams, but my body told a different story. The fear, the disgust, the panic. It was real.

I had to learn how to exist in the in-between, to trust myself even when I had doubts. To accept that my brain had done what it needed to do to protect me and that just because I didn’t remember for decades didn’t mean it wasn’t true.

The Despair of Not Knowing

No one talks enough about the despair. The way it can swallow you whole. When you start remembering pieces of something so unthinkable, its weight is unbearable.

I remember curling up in bed, unable to move, unable to function, my mind replaying the same thoughts on a loop.

“This isn’t real. This can’t be real.
But what if it is?
What if I’m losing my mind?
What if I’m just broken?“

Nothing shakes your sense of reality like waking up one day and realizing your past is no longer what you thought it was.

I would search my memories for signs, clues, anything that would either validate or disprove what I was starting to uncover. But memory does not work like that. It does not arrive neatly, in perfect order, with timestamps and witnesses. It drips in, slowly, sometimes violently, and often without warning.

And then came the darkest thoughts.

“What if I’m making this up because I want an excuse for my struggles?
What if I’m just broken beyond repair?“

I became convinced I was unraveling, that I would wake up one day completely lost inside my own head. The fear was not just about what had happened to me; it was about whether I could ever trust myself again.

The Darkness That Almost Swallowed Me

The grief was unbearable. It was not just about the memories. It was the loss of the life I thought I had. The childhood I had once cherished now felt like a dream I had woken up from too late.

And the worst part? There was no one to validate it for me. No way to prove or disprove what my brain was screaming at me.

There were days I couldn’t breathe under its weight. Days I wondered if I would ever feel normal again. Days I thought maybe it would be easier if I just disappeared.

This is the part people don’t talk about. The way the pain can feel so heavy that it drags you under. The way remembering doesn’t feel like healing at first. It feels like dying.

Grounding Through the Chaos

If you are in this place, if your world feels like it is cracking open, and you do not know how to hold the pieces, I want you to know you are not alone. And you are not broken.

Here are some things that helped me (and might help you, too):

Validate your emotions, even when you doubt your memories. Your feelings are real, no matter what.
Find safe people to talk to. Whether it is a therapist, a coach, a support group, or trusted friends, do not do this alone.
Ground yourself in the present. When the past tries to pull you under, remind yourself that you are here, now. Feet on the floor. Breathe in your lungs. Safe.
Give yourself permission to not have all the answers. Healing is not about proving what happened. It is about reclaiming yourself.

You Are Still You

When the past cracks open, it can feel like you are losing yourself. But you are not. You are still you. Maybe even more than you have ever been.

I won’t pretend this journey is easy. It is disorienting, painful, and sometimes feels impossible. But you are not alone. You do not have to have every answer to start healing.

Your story matters. Your pain is real. And you deserve to heal, whether the world ever sees your truth or not.

You Are Not Crazy. You Are Remembering.

If you are here, in the middle of the storm, feeling like you might not make it out, I need you to hear this.

You are not broken. You are not making this up. You are not crazy.

Your brain protected you the best way it knew how. And now, it is giving you back what you are ready to hold.

You do not have to remember everything to heal. You do not have to prove anything to be worthy of support.

Your pain is real. And you are not alone.

Hold on, friend, even when it feels impossible. Hold on.

Because the other side of this? It’s worth it. And so are you.

Photo by Vincent Burkhead on Unsplash

Danica Alison

www.DanicaAlison.com

Breaking Free Of The Cycle: Healing Family Karma

Jenney Clark — Tue, 04 Mar 2025 11:24:19 +0000

Who am I? Growing up, I was a child with trust issues due to emotional and physical abuse. Then, at 18, I was assaulted on a date. Trauma often leaves invisible scars. While most physical wounds can heal, mental and emotional wounds run deep.

I have faced many traumas in my life and experienced repeated betrayal, often from those we are told we can trust—family.

An Existential Identity Crisis

I consider myself a quirk of fate; by some macabre twist, I was launched into a profoundly dysfunctional family. I grew up fatherless in a middle-class Roman Catholic household in a small South Indian town. My older sister Melanie and I were raised by our young, widowed mother in our maternal grandparents’ home, where we lived with an extended joint family.

I discovered that my father passed away from a heart attack just months after my mother conceived me, so I never knew him. Growing up without a father left me feeling empty, which may have influenced my tendency to form fleeting connections with abusive relationships and toxic friendships. The absence of pictures of my dad was heartbreaking, as it felt like all memories of him had been erased. I understand my mother likely acted out of her own grief, but it was painful that she didn’t encourage us to talk about him, leaving many questions unanswered.

Becoming a Social Outcast

At first, my mother worked hard as a teacher at our school until my soon-to-be stepfather, a medical student seven years younger, came into the picture. In the conservative town we lived in, rumors about the teacher and the young man quickly spread, and all hell broke loose at my grandparents’ home. The entire family was upset with her new relationship, but my mother was so in love that she didn’t care.

The school was even worse; we became social outcasts overnight, facing snide comments from classmates and family friends who labeled us as “the daughters” of the “flighty widow.” The reputation stuck.

As a grown woman, I understand that my widowed mother had the right to move on and lead her life. However, at age five, I only felt the loss of friends. Back then, single mothers dating wasn’t common in rural India, and my mother was blissfully unaware, caught up in her new romance as she traipsed around town in love-infested bliss.

The Birth of the Fear of Abandonment

When I was in third grade, she finally married and a few years later moved to the Middle East with her new doctor husband, leaving behind two lonely kids and a controversial reputation.

At every family event, we were seen as the “orphan Annies” and “oddballs,” garnering pity or scorn from others. In that conservative town, we stood out, burdened by a reputation we longed to escape. This likely fueled my craving for love and contributed to ADHD and borderline personality disorder, which I discovered many years later.

Meanwhile, my childhood became a series of moves between relatives, amplifying feelings of abandonment. We were treated as unnecessary baggage, and the meager food we received was often rationed. Name-calling and forced chores made us feel like maidservants, whether cleaning the house, doing laundry, cooking, or babysitting. I was not yet 13, and I often went to bed hungry.

With each move, my sister and I faced a new set of accusations. In hindsight, I believe this wasn’t because we lacked virtue, but rather because our relatives were tired of bearing the burden of my mother. This was their way of “passing the buck” to someone else. Meanwhile, our mother hardly contributed to our expenses or sent money to those who took care of us.

Though Mom would visit us occasionally, her relationship with us, her daughters, changed dramatically. She refused to believe what we had endured and the ongoing criticism from our “overburdened” relatives. Instead, she relied only on hearsay, choosing to accept the narrative that portrayed us as the problem.

Walking Away From Abuse

At a relative’s home, life became so chaotic that we went from being poor, abandoned orphans to harassed teens overnight. The saddest part was that no one, especially our mother, wanted to believe us. They preferred to sweep everything under the rug rather than face the discomfort of the truth. I realized they chose not to support us because it allowed them to avoid their responsibilities.

As a result, in an effort to protect ourselves, two vulnerable girls walked away from a highly volatile situation and sought help from strangers. We felt unsafe among our own family.

Believe it or not, since then, we have mostly been estranged from our mother and socially isolated from our relatives. Aside from the odd occasion, I haven’t spent time with my relatives or mom in decades. Mom systematically and deliberately cut us off from any contact with the family.

There is bullying, and then there is bullying of the worst kind; it’s called “social isolation,” the kind that was perpetuated by my dysfunctional family and also by friends at school.

This is the kind of bullying where “the strong” band together and trample “the defenseless” because there is strength in numbers—often aided by money, peer pressure, or the seniority that comes with age.

Rising from the Ashes

As a teenager, I found myself alone and began working hard to support myself. Life took a difficult turn; I met many people from whom I learned valuable lessons. I made numerous mistakes due to poor judgment and misplaced trust, but I’ve always managed to rise from them. While I regret those lapses, I would live my life the same way again because my past has shaped who I am today.

My career choice allowed me to meet many people. Early on, I took various odd jobs, each helping me develop new skills and fueling my ambition for success. I was open to any challenge, adapting and learning as I went. Eventually, I spent several years in the hospitality industry.

Final Thoughts: Know Thyself and Thou Shall Know Thy God

Along the way, I made friends and learned that everyone is unique; no one is perfect; certainly not people with the “pointy fingers.” Nevertheless, I noticed that most people focus on four basic needs: food, money, power, and sex—but not necessarily in that order. Whereas for me it has always been like Freddy Mercury sang that “crazy little thing called LOVE.“ But when we go through abuse, neglect, and trauma and don’t find love, we settle for mediocrity or less. Trauma comes in many forms, but it’s our choice whether to continue the cycle of family karma or to break it. The buck stops with you.

Whichever way it goes, childhood trauma makes you do the thing you’ve been “conditioned” to do all your life. I understand how challenging it can be to navigate through trauma, and I want to share what has helped me along the way: love, friendships, books, music, and spirituality. Healing is not a straight path, and I certainly don’t consider myself an expert. I’ve experienced the many faces of depression, including a recent episode of panic and anxiety, which I know can feel overwhelming. If you’re struggling, please remember that you don’t have to go through it alone. Reach out to your loved ones and consider seeking therapy. It’s so important to take that step and not delay getting the support you need. If you are like me, you deserve to find peace and healing.

Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash

Jenney Clark

Jenney Clark is an Indian author and poet, best known for her book “Don’t Be Afraid to Love.” She has published eight books, including “Magic of the Ancients,” and hosts a podcast titled “Awakened Souls.” After leaving a successful job in the service industry, she pursued her passion for writing and became a life coach. Raised in a small town in India she discovered her psychic abilities at a young age and developed a strong interest in Tarot, astrology and numerology. She enjoys connecting with a diverse range of friends, including artists and writers and lives in a cozy “cubby hole” in Hyderabad with her dog, along with her beloved books and music

jenneyclark.com/

Walking the Tightrope of Womanhood

Natalie Rose — Tue, 11 Feb 2025 11:20:18 +0000

I’ve never been one to latch onto societal labels that spark division between men and women or even among women themselves. However, I cannot deny that throughout my life as a woman in this world, I have often found myself struggling to navigate the delicate balance of societal expectations.

What’s the tightrope I walk of being a woman in the society I live in?

When a woman knows her worth, some men feel threatened by her.

When a woman knows her worth, some women feel threatened by her.

If a woman is confident, knows what she wants, is assertive, and keeps her head held high, she’s arrogant, she’s a braggart, she’s another word that also starts with the letter “B,” and she needs to shut up.

If a woman is soft-spoken in her mannerisms and voice, she’s weak, she’s a pushover, and she’s not a team player.

If she falls in the middle, she’s lost in the background and has nothing to offer.

If her dresses are too short, she’s promiscuous and was asking for it.

If her dresses are long, she’s a prude and has no sex appeal.

If her dresses fall somewhere in the middle, she’ll get catcalled regardless, and it’s still her fault for being a temptress.

If a woman gets married and has children in her early 20s, she’s “rushing her life,” and she’ll be divorced in 10 years anyway.

If a woman doesn’t get married until her late 30s, she’s “an old maid,” and it’s such a shame that no one wanted her while she was in her prime.

If a woman never marries or has children, she’s not carrying out what she’s “supposed” to according to societal expectations.

As a woman, I’ve gotten criticism from every angle throughout my life.

I began my undergraduate studies in computer science and learned on the first day of class that wearing a bright yellow sundress to class probably wasn’t the best idea; the stares that the guys in the class gave me showed what they were really thinking: “She’s lost.”

I would stand in line at the career fair for internships at technology companies and get comments from my male peers in the line like, “This booth is for Software Engineering roles only” and “Well… you don’t look like a computer scientist.” I thought to myself: Then, what’s a computer scientist supposed to look like?

Even churches weren’t immune. Although I had just turned twenty, I was always asked, “Where’s your husband?” When they found out I was still single, they’d say with great fervor, “Well, don’t you worry, we’ll find you your knight in shining armor!” Am I really some sort of damsel in distress who needs a knight in shining armor to come to save me?

In high school, I was the only female on the robotics team with about 25 other boys, and many of them were so uncomfortable with my presence that they couldn’t even look me in the eyes or call me by name. I never felt uncomfortable around them, but the fact that they felt uncomfortable around me made me feel uncomfortable.

I tinkered with robots and Arduinos at school; then after school, I threw on my leotard and tights to go practice my pirouettes at the dance studio. This was my norm. I was never ashamed of embracing my femininity and holding my own while pursuing what I was genuinely passionate about, no matter what kind of environment I was in.

When I reflect on the conflicting standards of womanhood our society holds, they don’t make sense to me. I’ve come to realize that I’ll never please everyone, nor should I have to. The closed-minded opinions people hold about a woman’s role only result in confusion and judgment when they encounter someone who breaks their static view of what is “normal” in our society. And I’m finally okay with that.

What’s my personal definition of womanhood?

I lose track of time for six hours designing a website, and then I’ll go dance my heart out at dance class so I can get a break from the laptop. The clothes in my closet range from bright, flowery, frilly dresses to sweatpants and ginormous T-shirts, as well as my Jiu-Jitsu training gear. (It’s great for self-defense!)

Although I’ve struggled with acne and rosacea for many years, I don’t wear any makeup like I did when I was a teenager. I embrace the imperfections on my skin and no longer feel the need to cover up those blemishes. I love my natural hair color, so I don’t get it colored at the salon. In the mornings, I don’t flat iron or curl my hair either; I just let it hang loose the way it is or throw it into a messy bun and get about my day. It’s a rarity that I get my nails done anymore—in the past, I only kept up with that expensive hobby to fit in with the other women in the environments I was in. Over time, I decided that money could be spent on more productive things such as online courses and other opportunities for personal growth.

Although it seems that many women my age are already married and on their first baby, I am confident in my singleness and the time I’ve had to embrace my journey of healing and self-discovery. Establishing fierce independence at this age has given me the confidence to know that if I ever do get married, I will know who I am at my core and will not need to depend on another person to take care of me.

I’ve regained the ambition and creativity I had during childhood, and I’m putting in the time and effort to decide how I want to live the rest of my life and achieve my personal goals. I forgive easily, am not afraid to listen to someone who has a different opinion than my own, and have a “live and let live” philosophy. I own my actions and don’t shy away from hard conversations.

Regardless of my ability to be social when needed, I’m not one to hang out in large crowds, go to concerts or sports games, or revel in gossip circles or petty drama. My idea of weekend fun is cozying up at home alone with my fuzzy socks and blanket, lighting my favorite cranberry apple-scented candle, and losing myself in a good book.

This is my personal definition of womanhood.

I love embracing what makes me unique in my womanhood and not letting anyone define my femininity. Although I second-guessed myself in the past, I no longer feel guilty when I don’t submit to any standards of who a woman “should” be according to the world I live in. I choose my own path the way that I want to walk it, without fear of admonishment or punishment from others. In a society that profits off of women’s insecurities and fears, this can be a lonely path, but I no longer feel threatened by other people’s closed-minded opinions.

I am proud that I have finally gotten to the point on my journey where I no longer feel the need to change who I am to make anyone — whether a man or a woman — approve of me.

I am Natalie Rose, and I am proud to be me.

Photo by Brian Mann on Unsplash

Natalie Rose

My name is Natalie, and I am a survivor of about 13 years of absolute psychological torture from Complex PTSD symptoms. For the longest time, I thought I was inherently sick and broken beyond repair. I spent over a decade running around in circles in the medical system trying to figure out what was “wrong” with me and how to “fix” it.

♡ What is Complex PTSD? ♡

Complex PTSD symptoms come from severe, prolonged, and numerous incidents of trauma, typically of a relational nature. Symptoms can come from any type of trauma, though, and the trauma doesn’t necessarily have to stem from childhood — adults can develop CPTSD as well. Trauma can damage the brain and shrink the hippocampus, causing many of the symptoms of CPTSD. I decided to go public with my story to be a voice for the voiceless. There are too many survivors being told CPTSD is a lifelong sentence, and they are not being given the tools they need to overcome their symptoms.

♡ My Story ♡

I endured multiple types of traumas starting at around age thirteen, including numerous situations of both individual and large-group interpersonal cruelty. Some of these situations forced me to switch environments. My body couldn’t fathom what was happening, and my nervous system shut down. I saw danger everywhere, operated in a panicked survival mode, and lived in fear, anxiety, and isolation. I did my best to appear “normal” on the outside, keep a smile on my face, and control what was happening on the inside, distracting myself with extreme workaholism and doing nice things for others. I took active steps to keep branching out in confidence again, but these traumas kept piling onto each other and overlapping. I wasn’t ready to give up yet, though, because I knew my family and friends would be distraught if I did. The most difficult and heartbreaking part of my story is that the two communities I set out to seek healing in—religion and the medical system itself—caused further trauma when some religious leaders, congregation members, and medical professionals chose to take advantage of my vulnerability for their own motives. In most of these situations, I didn’t even realize I was a victim until outsiders pointed it out for me and that my vulnerability made me a target of malicious people. Each future situation of being targeted was just salt on the wound of the original incident.

♡ My Struggles to Find Answers ♡

What I went through all those years was so severe, and my symptoms and physical body reactions as a result were so excruciating that I went as far as to see a neurologist, concerned that my symptoms were the result of some sort of nervous system disorder. However, he returned with no paperwork in his hands to inform me that there was nothing wrong with me but that I was simply completely traumatized, and my body reacted accordingly. I finally realized that my symptoms were not the result of an inherent mental or physical illness and began to take a trauma-based approach to my healing after many years of believing that I was “sick” for the rest of my life. My true progress began when I finally rejected the lies that were told to me that I would have to manage my symptoms for the rest of my life and made the decision to believe that I was fully capable of healing from my excruciating pain.

♡ Finding My Own Healing ♡

I am excited to share tips for natural, somatic, and holistic healing that have helped me overcome things like dissociation, flashbacks, sleep challenges, anxiety, hypervigilance, and more. I began to pursue unique methods of healing after many years of not seeing much progress through westernized care, and this was the catalyst for fast-tracking my healing. I aim to help survivors overcome their feelings of self-guilt, blame, and humiliation and help them realize that their bodies had normal reactions to abnormal situations.

I’m so glad I didn’t give up when my pain felt unbearable. I know what I’ve survived. I know the work I’ve put in to overcome it. I am finally living a life of consistent peace and contentment, and I am sharing my story from the other side. I hope to encourage other survivors that there was never anything wrong with them to begin with and that they are capable of living healthy, happy, and fulfilled lives. I aim to live my life in love of both others and myself, understanding that everyone has a story of their own. I am grateful to the CPTSD Foundation for giving me an opportunity to share my story.

♡ Personal Blog ♡

To learn more about my healing journey, please visit my personal blog, “Little Cabin Life,” at:
littlecabinlife.com