The most misunderstood trait in trauma survivors isn’t volatility, mistrust, or emotional escalation. It’s the fact that many of them can’t tolerate peace. Not because they’re wired for chaos by choice—but because the traumatized body doesn’t recognize calm as safe.

For survivors of long-term relational trauma, especially those with complex post-traumatic stress strains, calm feels suspicious. Silence can register as danger. Something on a normal Tuesday afternoon might stir up the same physical warning signals as a life-or-death emergency. And when life gets too quiet, the nervous system doesn’t say, “Ah, finally!”—it says, “Brace yourself.”

This is not a personality quirk. It’s a biological glitch rooted in trauma adaptation and reinforced by an overstimulated digital environment that keeps survival patterns running on a loop.

Before smartphones, the system had natural limits.

We couldn’t talk 24/7. Long phone calls, handwritten letters, or occasional drop-ins served as the main outlets for emotional expression. There were enforced pauses: time gaps softened intensity. We had the chance to catch our breath.

Now, constant contact is normalized. One person’s panic can be offloaded onto someone else with a single swipe. Notifications hit like lightning strikes. The nervous system barely gets a second to recalibrate before another wave of adrenaline spikes. The result? We’re watching generations of trauma survivors stuck in a real-time panic loop with no built-in off switch.

Only, it doesn’t look like “doing the best we can” survival behavior from the outside. It looks like drama. Overreaction. Manipulation. People start using words like “toxic” or “high-maintenance.” And because it’s happening in group texts, comments, Discord servers, and encrypted messages, it creates the illusion of choice—like the survivor is selecting chaos, rather than reflexively reenacting it.

But chronic hypervigilance isn’t a lifestyle.

It’s the symptom of a system that has felt unsafe for so long that it doesn’t know how to stand down. 

Behavioral science and trauma research have already mapped the internal terrain.

A dysregulated amygdala—essentially the brain’s alarm system—fires prematurely and doesn’t shut off efficiently. The prefrontal cortex, responsible for rational judgment, gets overridden. Survivors are conditioned to feel like they’re responding to something life-threatening, even when nothing’s wrong. In clinical terms, the threat is gone, but the body doesn’t know that yet.

In these cases, the survivor doesn’t want drama.

But they don’t know how to trust the absence of it.

The brain, wired for pattern recognition, starts to correlate calm with the start of something worse. If the abuse always came after a good moment, that becomes the template. The body prepares itself, emotionally and physically to feel poisoned when things are nice and pleasant. It can’t relax, even though life got better. The wiring needs time—and structure—to rebuild.

That’s where things get even more complicated.

Some trauma survivors struggle with far more than stress symptoms. They also show clinical traits that resemble or overlap with personality disorders. This isn’t pathology in the traditional sense–it’s behavioral adaptation shaped by years of inconsistent attachment, emotional neglect, or outright abuse. Common overlaps occur with Borderline Personality Disorder and Histrionic Personality Disorder—both of which involve intense emotion, identity diffusion, and an unstable sense of relational security.

These traits, under strain, can look explosive in the digital world. The need for response, reassurance, and reactivity becomes relentless. Every pause feels like abandonment. Every comment feels like rejection. For the person on the receiving end, it can feel like emotional blackmail. But to the survivor, it feels like the edge of a giant cliff.

Add in technology—platforms designed to bypass patience and reward immediacy—and the entire situation escalates in a matter of minutes.

This is where compassion fatigue sets in.

Not because the supporter doesn’t care, but because their capacity gets exhausted. Every ping starts to feel like a threat. They go silent. The survivor feels abandoned. The cycle repeats. Emotional debt builds on both sides.

The solution isn’t cutting off the connection, though that’s often what happens. The actual fix is introducing digital boundaries that protect both parties. Not rigid rules disguised as punishments—but carefully defined limits that reduce reactivity and reintroduce appropriate pacing.

Mute is better than block. Scheduled responses help more than open-ended replies. Short, honest statements like “I can’t respond to everything, but I still care” preserve trust without sacrificing sanity. Most importantly, removing the guilt tied to these boundaries is essential. Real compassion isn’t measured by how fast someone replies. It’s measured by they can thoughtfully stay well in the relationship without burning out.

This isn’t just emotional hygiene–it’s ethical care. Survivors need time and repetition to rewire their survival responses. Supporters need respectful bandwidth to stay human. Technology, while useful, tends to make everything feel urgent when it’s not.

Understanding this doesn’t mean that we are excusing anyone’s behavior. Rather, we are promoting clarity. 

When someone constantly collapses under the weight of a good moment, they’re not trying to ruin it. They’re trying to prepare for loss. That’s not immaturity–it’s traumatic muscle memory.

And until the body learns that calm is safe and silence isn’t a setup, every good thing will feel like bait.

Final Thoughts

Chronic crisis behavior isn’t a personality issue. It’s a conditioned reflex amplified by the pace and permanence of modern communication. Not everyone feels peaceful when there is peace, and constant digital access can be extremely disruptive. What happens is that the line between survival and sabotage blurs. And while we know that boundaries don’t fix trauma, they do create the structure needed for something far better than survival: stability.

That’s not drama. That’s science.

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.

References:

Figley, C. R. (2002). Compassion fatigue: Psychotherapists’ chronic lack of self-care. Journal of Clinical Psychology, 58(11), 1433–1441.

McEwen, B. S., & Morrison, J. H. (2013). The brain on stress: Vulnerability and plasticity of the prefrontal cortex over the life course. Neuron, 79(1), 16–29.

Herman, J. L. (1992). Trauma and Recovery: The Aftermath of Violence—from Domestic Abuse to Political Terror.

Van der Kolk, B. A. (2014). The Body Keeps the Score: Brain, Mind, and Body in the Healing of Trauma.

Photo by Blake Cheek 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

Recently, it was nearing the decade mark since I made the decision to leave social media.  I jumped off all platforms at a prime, formative age when these apps were at their height, and it was “weird” for a person my age not to have any social media accounts. 

My Struggles Growing Up in the Digital Generation

Growing up, I struggled with social media and had personal trauma associated with it after being a victim of cyberbullying.  Once I realized how much my participation in these platforms was affecting my mental health, I made the decision to jump off.  It was definitely isolating in some ways, and when people I met in real life tried to ask for my Instagram handle or Facebook name to connect with me online, I had to respond, saying that I didn’t use any social media at the moment.  I would awkwardly respond with something like, “I could give you my number or maybe my email?”  Their eyes glazed over like I was some stranger from a distant planet, and some even reacted in ways that suggested they were frustrated they wouldn’t have an easy avenue into information about me or my life.  During these years without any social media presence, there were times I tried rejoining so that I could interact with my family and friends, but I ended up jumping off again when I realized I still wasn’t ready for it.  

After being on social media during my childhood, I found that I was projecting a façade of my life online as if it was an exhausting life of perfection and bliss. I felt like I had to do it to be accepted socially in my environment.  Everyone around me was doing it, so I had to as well.  The era and society my generation grew up in have been so pressured to project perfect versions of our lives online to prove to people that we are worthy of love and validation.  We’ve missed the opportunity to actually go out, live a real life, and not seek external validation through a screen.  I’m sure others who consume social media feel these annoyances and are guilty of similar feelings.  We were all copying each other’s posts, we all had to follow the trends, and we had to make sure that everyone else knew the things we were doing and achieving.  How important it was to make sure all our followers knew that we had the most amazing sandwich at brunch on Sunday! 

My Real Life Became an Online Life

Even when I hung out with my friends in real life, many of the conversations and actions (including taking bunches of pictures) centered around our online lives.  My friends inspected my Instagram page in front of me and critiqued the things I was sharing, telling me I looked a little too big in that photo, and, oh, here’s an app you can use to photoshop your body.  When I told a friend how excited I was for my upcoming family vacation, her initial reaction was, “Oh my gosh, I can’t imagine how amazing the photos for your Instagram are going to be.”  I overheard a conversation between girls talking about another girl and how she wasn’t worthy of their time because she had “only” 700 followers (which is quite a bunch in my book?!).  I had someone tell me that they would never post some of the things I posted because they were “cringe.”  I wanted to post the things that I wanted to post, not the things that anyone else wanted me to post, but there was constant judgment and pushback from people who had to conform to the “standards” of online life for fear of the exact same criticism they were giving to me.  I ultimately concluded for myself that the very act of posting our personal lives on social media is “cringe” because never before in human history had it been a requirement to lay bare your entire existence to the World Wide Web.  I concluded that the people there, including myself, were taking it way too seriously.  And I wanted to hang out with people who were enjoying living real life, not in a virtual, dystopian world.  It was difficult to find these people, though.

Going Dark and Deleting My Accounts

Living an online life was exhausting.  I was putting so much brain space into the pettiest things that could have been spent on more productive things.  When I entered new environments, it made it more difficult to heal and move on from my past with constant online reminders of my trauma.  And I no longer felt the need to participate in it and try to seek the approval of others.  I wanted to inspire others with my healing story one day, but I needed to actually start working on my own healing. 

So, I permanently deleted all my social media accounts, stopped looking at what everyone else was doing, and went through a deep, soul-searching process, asking myself what I really wanted.  Did I want a simpler life?  Yes.  Did I want everything to stop being a life-or-death situation when these things really didn’t matter?  Yes.  Should I start saving up for 100 acres and a tiny home?  Maybe.  Should I move to Europe?  Sounds nice.  Should I go back home? Not yet.  Should I become a Buddhist?  They seem genuinely content.  Should I set off on a pilgrimage on the Camino de Santiago in Spain that I heard about on that one podcast, where the guest speaker reported that her life did a complete 180 after she walked it and returned to America?  Should I do that thing that Aaron Rogers did where he locked himself in a dark cabin for a few days, forcing himself to sit with his own thoughts?  What did I want?

My fulfillment and consistent contentment are found within me

This process and the questions they produced spanned many years.  It was actually really amazing giving myself the time and space to ponder these things without the temptation to compare my life to the carefully fabricated highlight reels of others.  As much as I tried to tell myself I could handle social media, I couldn’t, and I knew that for myself, so I finally pulled the plug and got off everything.  I was off for almost 8 years, giving myself years to discover who I was and take all the time I needed to find myself.  I can’t say I’ve fully found myself yet (has anyone?), but I am now able to participate in online communities as long as I set limits for myself, not think about it too hard, and remind myself each time I enter the app that nothing on there is real life. 

My True Fulfillment Does Not Come from a Screen

I finally recognized that my true fulfillment does not come from anything external or materialistic.  It especially does not come from the temporary validation of others.  My fulfillment and consistent contentment are found within me.  Regardless of the external things in my life, I can be content where I am while still having ambition for the future.  There is no need to put an insane amount of pressure on myself.  I do not need to think that I have to do what everyone else is doing to be worthy because that isn’t the case.  Most of the things I thought I had to do growing up were only because I saw that everyone else was doing them and they were shoved into my face all the time through social media, but I knew deep down these things wouldn’t bring me fulfillment.  I didn’t know at the time that there were other options for personal fulfillment besides what I was seeing online, but when I started seeing bits and pieces of a wide world out there of endless possibilities that more closely aligned with who I wanted to be, I no longer was even tempted to think about what everyone else was doing on social media as I started exploring those options for myself.

Understanding that nothing online necessarily equates with reality

Healing is on my own timeline.  And I like the little life I’ve built without the pressure to achieve any societal milestones imposed by others.  I would stand beside others and celebrate theirs when they had them, but I knew that I was not ready to jump into things for myself just because I felt like I had to.  I was able to reenter online communities almost a decade later with a new mindset based on a foundation of contentment with myself and an understanding that nothing online necessarily equates with reality, so there’s no need for me to feel like I’m not doing enough or that I’m not good enough.  I will share the things that I want to share, the things that are meaningful to me, and the things about my story that may lend a helping hand to others struggling. 

Everyone has a choice.

Everyone has a choice with social media.  Everyone has a choice with what they share. Everyone has a choice with what they consume.  It is a choice if we look at what people share and allow ourselves to feel negatively in response.  Although I made the choice to rejoin one platform, I have very strict limits for myself, and I prioritize my contentment first.  True contentment, for me, comes from embracing the imperfections and messiness of real life while not taking anything too seriously. 

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.

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

Humor, joking, and laughter seem to be universally accepted as positive. What’s often misunderstood is that this is only true when everyone involved feels the same way. A problem arises when the object (target) of humor, joke, laughter, and the subject (target) feel the opposite. On numerous occasions, this has been my case while interacting online. I am a disabled person and have had no other experience in living life other than this because I was born this way. A reality I live with is being labeled unique or odd because I live in a world with mainly abled people. Particularly online the power dynamic that exists between those who are able and disabled is harder to notice. Even visible disabilities become largely invisible online due to how accessible the platforms are for independent navigation with a disability. Just like in the real world, online platforms are places largely consisting of abled people, Mainstream media paints an image of disability as something that is inspirational or tragic. It also only gives and sees value from a third-party perspective. This means the view of disability that most of society is familiar with is from either medical professionals or support people, not disabled people. Disability can indeed be the result of something tragic. However, people lack the awareness that disability is an umbrella term NOT a universal one. There is a widely accepted view that disabled people are unintelligent and incapable, which results in many disabled people being perceived as or accused of being fake when appearing capable and intelligent online.

“As a society, we tend to celebrate those who perform well hurt and we criticize or even demonize those that ask for help or otherwise show weakness.” Dr. Jamie Marich. As a disabled person, when I heard this said during a TEDx talk, it spoke to me leaving a lasting impact. As if the words would disappear from existence, I had to create a meme. In my meme, it shows two versions of disability on one side and the quote on the other. The words hurt and weak appear on either version of disability to depict the way those external to disability view different versions of it. The quote has a green background with two hulk arms at the top and bottom of the quote to depict how my everyday life is seen as inspirational.

Inspiration porn, a term coined by the late Stella Young, is the portrayal of people with disabilities as inspirational solely or in part based on their disability through the use of images, videos, and memes featuring disabled people for the purposes of motivating abled people. Stella’s decision to refer to these types of media portrayals as porn was deliberate because they objectify one group of people for the benefit of another. As Stella did, many members of the disabled community reject the idea of being seen as exceptional for doing ordinary activities. In reality, while many things seem to be a struggle to onlookers, the way disabled people do ordinary things is merely adapted or modified in a way that makes the task something they can do. As a result of society seeing disability as it does, abled people are made to feel like they should help those who are unable to help themselves. This becomes problematic when you see a disabled person doing something different from how you would. As an abled person, you view it as being done wrong or struggling with a task. In response to that perception, you do as society tells you and jump in to help with statements like “let me help you with that” proceeding with an action. While this is something you see as kind to the disabled person it becomes an exertion of power and control. Additionally, making a statement rather than asking a question, took away the disabled person’s power of choice. To the opposite end, mainstream society holds much hatred toward the disabled community as a result of inspiration porn. Let’s face it, it really doesn’t feel nice when you don’t accomplish something you desire to without the guilt that comes with having a disabled person’s perceived accomplishments thrown in your face. While inspiration porn is used to motivate abled people, it also weaponizes disabled people. I am often faced with memes showing up on my personal social media feeds that are insulting to me as a disabled person. The reason memes weaponize disabled people is due to memes that are often created by able people. Upon expressing this I am often met with attacks from abled people.

When people create memes featuring a disabled and abled person together, they often view this as an example of inclusivity. When it is in the form of a cartoon it is viewed as not real. The thought seems to be as long as it isn’t real it has no impact. Oftentimes, intentionally, or unintentionally, memes have hidden messages. In my personal experience, the memes that are the most dangerous are the ones rooted in some form of truth. When applied to mainstream society they are harmless. To the disabled community are harmful.

Harm may actually be the intent of a meme. What?

Richard Dawkins coined the word meme from the Greek word “mimeme” meaning imitated thing. He used it to describe an idea, behavior, or style that rapidly spreads from person to person in a culture. Memes are virally transmitted images embellished with text, usually sharing pointed commentary on cultural symbols, social ideas, or current events. The more widespread a meme becomes the great power or damage it has.

Here are some examples of memes that display disabled people intended to motivate others while weaponizing, insulting, offending, even discriminating against those who are disabled.

Remember that time you got polio? No, you don’t. Because your parents got you fucking vaccinated.

Clearly, this is a meme meant to encourage everyone to get vaccinated. It is not a bad idea in the middle of a global pandemic and certainly not something I am against. However, it fails to realize the challenges faced by those who are disabled in getting vaccinated and the fight that there was by the disability rights movement to implement a law making it mandatory that people with disabilities are not refused vaccination based on their disability. Meanwhile, during the entire pandemic people were fully aware that those with disabilities are high risk but completely unaware that disabled people were refused treatment and made to sign DNR orders based on not having a quality of life. Plus, there are real people still living today with the after-effects of polio! One of those is Judith Heumann, who is one of the original influential people to spare head the disability rights movement in the US.

Growing up in the ’80s. This was our “gofundme”.

The image to go along with it is an able-bodied preteen male mowing a lawn. It’s true that mowing the lawn in the ’80s and doing other odd jobs for neighbors was the way money was made when you wanted something extra or of great expense. Also true of the time was the reality that many disabled people were being housed in institutions and abused. While today disabled people are the largest group that are unemployed and live below the poverty line. Contrary to popular belief not everything is funded and paid for through assistance programs. Many disabled people depend on crowdfunding for such things as adaptive tech, assistive devices, offsetting this cost of therapies, medications, or living expenses. This is particularly the case for people who are born disabled though it can also be true of those who become disabled.

Disability can never steal your beauty.

The image is of a puppy missing an eye. The likely intent is to raise awareness for pet adoption of senior, ill, or disabled pets. Disability is not something solely belonging to humans. The reality of disability is that for the owner of a disabled pet, or human adopting them is not a desirable choice. Both pets and disabled children are viewed as unadoptable. To compare the loss of an eye in a puppy versus a human is not comparable. Any attempt to do so is a twisted version of dehumanization by comparison. The less obvious message that can so easily be overlooked is that what is being said is that a physical disability makes a person ugly. There is an unspoken assumption that those with disabilities feel ugly.

Never let your disability limit your ambitions.

The image is a duplicate of a male amputee on crutches. In one image the man appears to be walking into a location and in the other image, he is balancing on his crutches while holding a gun. In case anyone wasn’t aware, robbing a place of business or a home is a criminal offense. The image could be intended to draw attention to how people misuse the systems put in place to help disabled people, which is true. The flaw in this way of thinking is that one must assume disability only looks or presents in a certain way or is a one-dimensional concept. Nothing could be any further from the truth. It was probably intended as some way of getting across the message that those with disabilities are not different than anyone else. If that truly was the intention it was not well thought out by whoever created the meme because there are already plenty of people who think disabled people’s existence is criminal.

As a disabled user of social media constantly exposed to memes like this is offensive. Inspiration porn has the same impact on me as the countless images all over media of any form that sends a message to anyone about their body being not good enough, bad, wrong, or flawed. Even when memes may be unintentionally hurtful or the negative messages about me, as a disabled person, are hidden within a meme that appeals to abled people they are still damaging. Memes created that appeal to abled people while hurting disabled people is unacceptable. Including disabled people is not equal to being fair.

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

Destiny Mowadeng

Hi, my name is Destiny and I am a Certified Tauma Recovery Coach. I have a disability called Spina Bifida and I am also a trauma survivor. As I am not a person who particularly likes face to face interaction my writing is a vital part of what I do for my own mental health as well as professionally. Being a person with a disability has developed into coaching those who are also survivors of trauma and are disabled similar to myself. I do this using a virtual reality platform called Second Life. I also own a website and blog to help advocate, education, and rise awareness about disability, mental health, and trauma within the context of disability.

powerfullypowerless.wordpress.com/