Biology first. The nervous system treats non-existence as the ultimate threat. It does not debate; it signals. Heart rate up, breath shallow, vigilance on. That circuitry keeps toddlers from traffic and adults from ledges. It also interrupts acceptance. The alarms sound long before philosophy can speak.

Culture turns the volume up. In the modern West, we export dying to corridors and euphemize it in obituaries. We are competent at distraction and clumsy at endings. Youth is framed as competence; debility reads like failure. Shame follows when bodies do what bodies do.

Control is the hinge. Uncertainty—not nothingness—keeps people up at night. What will happen? How much will it hurt? Who will mishandle me? Who will forget me? Humans tolerate hardship when they can predict it and participate in it. That is why clear directives, a trusted proxy, and honest timelines lower death anxiety more reliably than slogans.

Pain matters because it colonizes the calendar. When days are counted in minutes between spikes, time stops being a container and becomes a trap. Competent palliative care exists to dismantle that trap. Hospice is not “giving up.” It changes the goal from cure to comfort, from more days at any cost to hours lived on your terms. When pain is controlled, many discover the fear wasn’t death; it was suffering without dignity.

Trauma changes the map. If you learned to read danger in a room before anyone else smelled it, you already live with mortality in your mouth. The body has rehearsed loss a thousand times. For some, that rehearsal makes the exit less frightening—hard parts already done. For others, the unknown is wired as intolerable, so any loss of control re-ignites old fires. Both responses are coherent. Neither is a character flaw.

Attachment complicates the picture. People often fear leaving more than leaving life. Who will care for the child, the dog, the work that isn’t finished? That’s not fear of death; that’s accountability. Unfinished business keeps brains awake. Ordinary acts—making a will, labeling passwords, writing the overdue letter—are anti-anxiety medicine. They don’t erase grief. They anchor it.

Moral injury adds weight. When life has included harm—done, witnessed, or endured—death can feel like an audit. Most aren’t afraid of divine judgment; they’re afraid of meaninglessness. We want suffering to have purchased something. Even modest purpose—my story might spare the next person—shrinks the unknown. Purpose doesn’t remove fear. It gives it direction.

Acceptance rarely arrives by argument. It arrives by exposure to reality that isn’t sentimental or cruel. Sit with someone whose end is well-managed medically, respected legally, and seen relationally. Watch them choose what to eat, what to wear, who enters the room, when the music starts. Notice that love still functions in small square footage. Goodbyes can be skilled.

Many remain terrified because they have seen the opposite: chaotic endings, confused families, missing paperwork, out-of-date DNRs, clinicians constrained by liability, faith leaders promising what medicine can’t deliver, physicians promising what biology won’t allow. People remember fluorescent light, not the face. Their fear is a record of failures.

Now the group that rarely gets named. The ready ones. Not suicidal—just ready. They are not chasing death; they are done negotiating with chronic disappointment and lifelong threat. Relief is the wish, not disappearance. It sounds like: “If my exit came, I wouldn’t fight it.” That stance is often mislabeled as depression. Sometimes it is. Often it’s trauma-adapted fatigue.

For clinical clarity, a few distinctions help.
• Intent vs. ideation: passing thoughts occur in CPTSD; intent has architecture—means, timeline, steps.
• Relief-seeking vs. self-destruction: the wish is for pain to stop, not for the self to cease.
• Agency intact: many “ready” people still keep promises, protect others, and avoid collateral harm.

This posture grows in predictable soil. Years of startle, scanning, and bracing teach the body that calm is a trap and vigilance is love. Sleep rarely drops anchor. Ordinary errands require tactics. Relationships feel like weather. “Ready” is what happens when the engine can’t idle and the driver is tired of white-knuckling the wheel.

What helps isn’t pep talk. It’s load reduction without a full-time emergency.
• Sleep that sticks: consistent lights-out, morning light, stimulant timing you can actually keep.
• Threat math that pencils out: reduce avoidable exposures—noise, chaos, volatile people—and add predictability where you can’t reduce.
• Micro-agency: dense, daily choice—what to eat, when to move, which room to work in, who gets the first hour.
• Competence moments: tasks with a clear finish—repaired hinge, balanced checkbook, finished paragraph.
• Witnessing without audit: one person who can hear “I’m ready” without panic or prosecution lowers its charge.

Risk can shift quickly. New grief, sudden humiliation, substance use, access to means, or loss of protective obligations can flip a posture into a plan. That is the moment to tighten the net—remove or lock means, call in steadier adults, use urgent care or 988—fast and without drama.

Beyond trauma care, some scaffolding reduces death anxiety for nearly everyone. Provide safety for the body, predictability for the calendar, honesty for relationships, and paperwork with teeth. Symptom control should be aggressive and ethical. Plans should be shared with the people who must use them. Language should say the quiet part plainly: I am dying; he is dying; we are in borrowed time. Documents should be findable in 60 seconds, not after a two-hour rummage.

Ritual helps when it’s chosen, not imposed. Some want prayer. Some want paperwork. Some want one last drive past the street where a parent taught them to ride a bike. Grief is specific. Respect is granular. The smallest accurate goodbye beats the grandest abstract one.

Words matter. Stop calling hospice quitting. Call it changing the goal. Don’t promise everything will be fine. Promise we won’t abandon you. Retire, there’s nothing more we can do. Say there is a lot we can do, starting with your comfort and your choices. Words don’t cure, but they ventilate a room that’s running out of air.

As for the black box—the after—certainty claims are above my pay grade. Many people at the end report presence, peace, a loosening. These don’t need to be proven to have value. The body often knows how to leave better than we know how to let it.

• If you are not afraid to die, you are not broken. You may be finished pretending invincibility is a virtue.
• If you are terrified, you aren’t childish. You may be honest about wanting pain to be optional and endings to be kind.

Both truths fit in the same room, so make the room ready.

• Write the letter you’ve been avoiding.
• Choose the proxy.
• Say the things that you feel must be said.
• Put the playlist in order.
• Eat what tastes like a victory.

When alarms go off, let biology do its job and let meaning do yours.

If your stance begins to shift from “ready” into organizing an exit, call or text 988 from anywhere in the USA for the Suicide & Crisis Lifeline or go to the nearest emergency department. Outside the U.S., use your local emergency number and locations.

Sources

Ernest Becker — The Denial of Death
Irvin D. Yalom — Staring at the Sun
Sheldon Solomon, Jeff Greenberg, Tom Pyszczynski — The Worm at the Core
Atul Gawande — Being Mortal
Judith Herman — Trauma and Recovery (updated edition)
Shaili Jain — The Unspeakable Mind
BJ Miller and Shoshana Berger — A Beginner’s Guide to the End
American Academy of Hospice and Palliative Medicine
National Hospice and Palliative Care Organization

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

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

This article discusses trauma, including sexual references that may not be appropriate for all.

My name is Lizzy, and I am a survivor of unimaginable trauma. I have lived through a childhood of sexual torture and witnessed several murders. Yet here I am, willing to share experiences from my childhood.

I survived, and I got a second chance in life.

I feel that the world today is ignorant of true suffering. People turn a blind eye to trauma when they have the means to help. Most people have never experienced being profoundly hungry, neglected, and deeply hurt–physically and sexually. Most people do not have any idea of what it is like growing up in an abusive home.

How might others possibly know what it is like if the survivors don’t speak up?

People who don’t know simply haven’t had the experience. There is an expectation that a trauma survivor just needs time to “get over it” or “snap out of it,” and then, voila! You have been cured from a life of devastating trauma. How I wish I could do just that!

In this post, I aim to explore trauma triggers. Most trauma survivors will say they hate triggers because of how they make us feel when we flash back into a traumatic memory.

Triggers are everywhere

Survivors of abuse and trauma see the world in a more intense way, compared with those who had a good childhood. We have experienced so much hurt in our past, and because of this, we constantly feel like we are living on the edge of a knife. Others don’t understand that.

Even the most mundane tasks (like slicing bread), can be a trigger, and send the entire day into a completely different direction.

I know, because I’m living this kind of life.

For me, there are triggers everywhere, and they can happen at any time. Although I have come a long way in my healing process and am no longer living in constant fear, I still have to work at not being afraid.

I can brush off most triggers because I’ve had them before, and they don’t affect me as much. These types of triggers connect to the painful memories I have dealt with in therapy. They have not gone away completely, but they do not hurt me as deeply as they did before. I know to expect them, and I know how to deal with them now.

Our healing journeys are unique. My childhood was riddled with abuse and trauma, and when I finally admitted to myself that I needed professional help, I was a mess. I had lost all sense of reality and was in bad shape. For a while, I bounced from therapist to therapist.

My husband was suffering through my never-ending nightmares. Each of the therapists tried to help, but none of them really saw the larger picture. I wasn’t ready to let anyone in.

The memories were just too horrific, too terrifying, and too encompassing.

Have you ever felt this way about your past?

Some of the therapists wanted to focus on how to handle triggers with various techniques like grounding and breathing. They worked to some degree, but the deep hurt was still shielded by my own layers of protection. I was like an onion, shielding my most painful memories deep inside a series of layers. I was still not ready to go “there” yet.

Painful triggers are unprocessed trauma memories.

How do you feel when you are triggered? Or if you have a loved one who’s experienced trauma — how do they react?

Trauma doesn’t just affect the ones who have lived through it–our loved ones are affected, too. My long-suffering husband has seen me in my worst moments, and he’s still here with me. The man deserves a medal, I can tell you that.

There are times when I do feel absolutely terrified by a trigger. When I get to this kind of fear, I pay attention to my breathing and ground myself in the present moment until the shock and pain subside

This kind of trigger feels horrifying, like being set on fire or having an ice bucket thrown over you. The pain feels just as real as it was in that initial traumatic moment. These are unprocessed trauma memories that have not been put into the correct part of the brain yet. They are raw memories, floating around in the wrong places, and they need to be acknowledged and processed.

These memories will keep “bumping” us until we can deal with them and recognize them for what they are. The brain can then process them into their rightful place. This is certainly not an easy thing to go through. It can take years of working through memories with professional help, but it can be done. I am living proof.

Have you ever been in a situation where you get so triggered that you cannot escape it–no matter what you do?

I remember once when I had the mother-of-all triggers. It was all-powerful and consumed me. I couldn’t escape, no matter what I tried to do–the memory was right there glaring at me to go back “there.”  I was still stuck in a past trauma memory, and I couldn’t move forward.

Getting professional help is a necessity.

I searched for a new therapist, and I happened to mention it to a friend. She knew another friend who had worked with a good therapist, helping her process a traumatic divorce.

I was skeptical at first because I had seen many professionals, and none of them had helped me much. I thought my childhood trauma memories were beyond help, and I was left to suffer.

I decided to give it a fair shake and made contact with the new therapist. This time, I hit the therapist jackpot. We instantly clicked; I laid out my history and stated what I was looking for. From there, we agreed on a plan to move forward in my healing journey.

If you haven’t met the right therapist yet, keep searching. The right help is out there.

Do not be afraid to seek help with your triggers. Doing so changed my life forever. Remember, you matter. Be kind to yourself and follow your heart.

My name is Lizzy, and I’m a mom, teacher, author, and mental health blogger. I write for those who don’t always feel that they have a voice. For more about me, my books, and articles, check out my website: www.elizabethwoodsauthor.com

Support my writing, and buy me a coffee:

https://ko-fi.com/elizabe69245484here

Photo by Cullan Smith 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.

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/

Why the edge can feel unsafe

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

Evolutionary memory that is still on duty

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

Trauma history changes the map

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

Posture, perception, and what the research suggests

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

Temperature, physiology, and learned associations

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

Practical steps that respect biology

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

Final thoughts

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

References

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

Photo by Priscilla Du Preez 🇨🇦 on Unsplash

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

Dr. Mozelle Martin

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

www.InkProfiler.com

It’s a powerhouse of possibility,  and it’s also a paradox. It keeps us alive. Helps us create. Love. Imagine. It’s where the best parts of us live–the cleverness, the humor, the wild creativity, the gut instincts, and the empathy.

But it’s also where the trauma lives.
Where the fear lives.
Where the ghosts of what we survived are still pacing the halls.

A Hypervigilant Command Center

If you live with CPTSD, then you know that it’s not just a brain. It’s a hypervigilant command center. Always alert. Always scanning. Always assuming the next bad thing is just around the corner–even when life is calm.

When you walk into a room, you don’t just enter. You calculate. You assess. You map out the exits, read every face, and listen for tone shifts. You don’t even realize you’re doing it; it’s automatic.
Learned from years of needing to be ready, just in case.

Emotional Hijacking: When the Past Invades the Present

Then someone says something. Maybe it’s nothing–a joke, a pause, or a look that lingers a second too long. Boom, your body’s gone tight, your stomach drops, and your thoughts scatter.

Suddenly, you’re back in a memory you never meant to revisit.
Not fully reliving it, but emotionally hijacked by it.
The fear, the shame, the worthlessness.
All of it, flooding in as if it never left.

Ruminating in the Ruins

Your brain starts looping.
Was it me?
Did I mess up again?
Are they mad?
Am I too much? Not enough?
What did I do?

You start ruminating.
You replay the conversation.
You pick apart every word, every silence.
You fill in blanks with worst-case scenarios.

And you don’t even want to be doing it; it just happens.

You know it’s happening. You see it happening.
But knowing doesn’t stop it.

It’s as though your own inner monologue is unraveling you in real time.
And you’re powerless to stop the unraveling.

This Is What CPTSD Can Look Like

Not always flashbacks.
Sometimes, it’s a slow, invisible spiral that pulls you under with nothing dramatic on the surface.
Just a brain quietly trying to protect you… in all the wrong ways.

The Whispered Lies in the Dark

And sometimes, yeah, the thoughts get dark. Not always suicidal. But heavy. Bone-deep exhausted. The kind of dark where you lie in bed and feel like a failure for simply existing.
The kind where your brain whispers:

“You’ll never get better.”
“This is just who you are.”
“People only tolerate you.”
“You’re too much.”
“You’re alone in this.”

And if you’re tired or overwhelmed–or just raw that day–you believe it.

Even though you know it’s the trauma talking.
Even though you’ve done the therapy.
Even though you’ve read the books, taken the meds, and journaled your guts out.
You still believe the lie your brain is screaming at you.

The Hardest Fight: Your Own Mind

That’s what makes healing so hard.
You don’t just fight symptoms.
You fight your own mind.

And it’s not because you’re weak.
It’s because your brain adapted perfectly to survive what happened to you.
It just doesn’t know you’re safe now.
It doesn’t know the war ended years ago.

What I’m Holding Onto

But here’s the part I’m learning, what I try to hold onto when it all feels too much: This brain, this chaotic, overworked, trauma-stamped brain of mine… It’s still trying and still showing up and still learning.

It laughs.
It makes art.
It remembers weird 90s trivia.
It falls in love.
It gets back up, even when it swears it’s done.

It is, somehow, still mine, and still beautiful.
Not because it’s perfect.
But because it keeps going.

Tender. Tired. Trying.

Beautifully magnificent. And also:

Tender.
Tired.
Trying.

Maybe that’s the point. Healing doesn’t erase the trauma. It means we learn how to live with a brain that’s been through hell, and that we choose, every day, to love it anyway.

Photo by Camila Quintero Franco 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.

Jack Brody

Born and raised in Boston, Jack Brody has called New York City home for over 30 years. He’s a proud father to a teenage daughter, a survivor of childhood abuse, and someone who knows firsthand what it means to live with Complex PTSD.

Diagnosed six years ago, Jack has been on a deep healing journey, one marked by therapy, growth, hard truths, and unexpected resilience. As a men’s mental health advocate, he shares his story to remind others that they’re not broken, not alone, and never beyond hope.

Whether through his writing, podcast, or quiet conversations with fellow survivors, Jack’s mission is simple: to speak honestly about the hard stuff, and to show that healing out loud is not only possible, it’s powerful.

aboutthatjack.com/

Consider the fireflies shining into the darkness in the picture above. Let their lights shine the way throughout this reading.

In today’s post, I’m going to tackle depression.

Yeah, it’s a heavy word, with not such great connotations… You sigh and attempt to click away. Your finger hovers over the button because you want to avoid this topic. No one likes this word.

Hang on a minute. Give me a moment to explain my take on this word.

Depression.

When depression rears its ugly head, it’s hard to see anything positive. When we are stuck in the middle of a bad day, we see everything negatively. It’s a downward spiral that pulls us down like a vacuum, sucking us into darkness.

It doesn’t have to be that way.

Let me explain…

My name is Lizzy, and I have been where you are. I have had many bad days, weeks, months, and even years. I’ve got the BAD T-shirt and I don’t ever want to go back there. My childhood was full of pain and suffering, but I left that world and started again.

In my new world, I have worked to build a life away from trauma and abuse. I’ve created a world of positive influences, and I am surrounded by people who share my vision.

Depression still grabs me from time to time, and triggers drag me back to my horrific childhood. Some of these experiences draw me into days of lasting depression, including foggy brain and sluggishness. Yeah, I’ve been there.

Therapy has helped me understand why I feel the way I do after a trigger. I was hurt, but that’s in the past. Things that are difficult today are nothing compared to where I have been.

In the great scheme of things, I recognize that life is not inherently bad. I see glimmers of hope everywhere I go.

Here is the kicker: we don’t have to stay in “bad day” mode. There are tools we can use to feel better.

This is what I do when I’m having a bad day:

• Breathe — A few deep breaths will help detox our system and replenish the air in our lungs.
• Mindfulness–Think about the moment you are in, the here and now. What do you need right now? Clarity helps when we are feeling down.
• Take a comfort break–If you cannot get away from your busy schedule, do something to calm yourself down. Splash some water on your face, or grab a coffee. The change of temperature will help you reset for a minute.
• Go for a walk–If it’s the end of the day, don’t go straight home. Go for a walk in the park and notice the leaves in the trees. Hear the birds exchanging avian gossip and notice the crickets playing their serenades. Feel your surroundings and let your heartbeat match. Nature does wonders to help us feel calm.

When you get home, don’t focus your mind on what has happened; instead, look at the next moments with open eyes.

Look for the glimmers of hope. When we open our minds beyond the pain of the moment, we see that those glimmers exist and are within reach.

When I am having a rough day, a glimmer might appear as any of the following:

• The sun stretches its rays over our driveway. A bumblebee settles inside one of the pink flower buds of a bush.
• My youngest is coming to greet me at the door and show me his latest model made by Legos. His beaming face says it all.
• My oldest has tidied his bedroom and found his long-lost favorite toy. Excited, he wants to share with me his newfound treasure.
• My husband is in the kitchen stirring the cheese sauce for a mac & cheese dinner. He turns around to smile at me, and I see that he has flour smeared on his cheek.

Life is not perfect, nor is it easy. But when we stop to notice beauty and simplicity, we feel better.

Maybe you had a bad day today. Can you find some glimmers of hope that reassure you that life is actually pretty good?

In the dark of the night, we suddenly see glowing fireflies!

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

If you enjoyed reading this post, I invite you to follow me:

www.elizabethwoodsauthor.com

Support your fellow writer:

https://ko-fi.com/elizabe69245484

Photo by Renaud Confavreux 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.

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/

Here are ten insights about grounding at work that many people don’t realize:

1. It’s not just about deep breathing. While deep breathing is helpful, effective grounding for us often involves engaging multiple senses. Touching a textured object, focusing on a specific visual detail, or even tasting something strong can be powerful grounding tools. For example, keeping a small stone with an interesting texture in your pocket or a strong mint in your desk drawer can provide instant sensory input when needed.
2. Grounding can be invisible. We’ve become experts at grounding ourselves without others noticing. A subtle change in posture, a quick sensory check, or a silent mantra can be powerful grounding techniques that don’t draw attention. Practice “stealth grounding” by tensing and relaxing your muscles under your desk or focusing on the feeling of your feet firmly planted on the ground.
3. It’s a continuous process. For many of us, grounding isn’t a one-and-done activity. We might need to ground ourselves multiple times throughout the day, especially during high-stress periods. Consider setting discreet reminders on your phone or computer to prompt regular grounding check-ins.
4. Physical movement is crucial. Simple movements like stretching, changing positions, or even just wiggling our toes can help us reconnect with our bodies and the present moment. If possible, take short walks during breaks or do desk stretches to incorporate more movement into your workday.
5. Grounding routines can be personalized. What works for one person might not work for another. We’ve each developed our unique set of grounding techniques that resonate with our specific experiences and needs. Experiment with different methods and create a personal “grounding toolkit” that you can draw from as needed.
6. It can be exhausting. The constant effort to stay grounded, especially in triggering environments, can be mentally and emotionally draining. Self-care after work becomes crucial. Develop a post-work ritual that helps you transition and recharge, such as a calming activity or a specific route home that allows for decompression.
7. Grounding can enhance performance. When we’re grounded, we’re often more focused, creative, and resilient. It’s not just about coping — it’s about thriving. Notice and celebrate the times when grounding helps you perform better at work, reinforcing its positive impact.
8. Technology can be a grounding tool. While often seen as a distraction, technology can actually aid in grounding. Specific apps, calming playlists, or even just the familiar weight of a phone in our pocket can help us stay present. Explore grounding or mindfulness apps that offer quick exercises you can do discreetly at your desk.
9. Grounding is a skill that improves with practice. The more we practice grounding techniques, the more automatic and effective they become. What once took conscious effort can become second nature. Keep a journal to track your progress and note which techniques work best in different situations.
10. It’s okay if grounding doesn’t always work. Sometimes, despite our best efforts, we might still feel ungrounded. This doesn’t mean we’ve failed — it’s a normal part of the healing process. Be compassionate with yourself and have a backup plan, such as taking a short break or reaching out to a supportive colleague or therapist when needed.

The Revolutionary Act of Grounding

Consider this: every time you ground yourself at work, you’re not just managing stress — you’re revolutionizing your professional experience. You’re turning potential triggers into opportunities for growth, transforming challenges into stepping stones for success.

This isn’t about merely surviving the 9-to-5 grind. It’s about rewriting the narrative of trauma in the workplace. Each grounding technique you master is a word in your new story — a story of empowerment, adaptability, and triumph.

So, the next time you find yourself grounded at work, remember that you’re not just calming your nerves. You’re honing a skill that sets you apart, cultivating a presence that commands respect, and paving the way for a more empathetic, trauma-informed workplace culture.

Your trauma doesn’t define your professional journey — your response to it does. With every grounding practice, you’re not just reclaiming your peace; you’re reshaping the landscape of what it means to be a professional in today’s world.

Embrace your grounding techniques. Perfect them. Share them. In doing so, you’re not just helping yourself — you’re blazing a trail for every trauma survivor navigating the complex terrain of the modern workplace. And that, colleagues, is nothing short of revolutionary.

Questions for Self-Reflection and Journaling:

1. Think about a time when you successfully grounded yourself during a stressful work situation. What technique did you use, and how did it impact your ability to handle the situation?
2. Consider the unique grounding skills you’ve developed as a result of your experiences. How have these skills enhanced your overall resilience and effectiveness at work?
3. Imagine a future workday where you feel consistently grounded and present, even during stressful moments. What does this look like, and what small step could you take tomorrow to move closer to this vision?

An Invitation

If you’d like to join an online community of other resilient overcomers focusing on their careers, I invite you to join The Resilient Career Academy™ Community. (RCA Community)

The RCA Community is a group dedicated to helping/supporting those working to overcome adversity and achieve their full potential in their careers.

The benefits to you are:

Community — The community provides support, encouragement, the ability to share frustrations and get feedback from people who understand the struggle
Workplace/Career Resources — The group provides tools, resources, and templates to help you with your career journey
Available Coaching Support — The community is supported by trained and certified coaches who are available for individual sessions
Learning — You will have access to various trauma/workplace-related online courses developed by our coaches to help you in your journey
Workshops/Webinars — You will have access to practical workshops/webinars targeted to help you in the workplace grow your career
If you are interested in joining us, click here: https://resilientcareeracademy.myflodesk.com/community

As always, you do not have to walk this journey alone. Contact me to schedule your free discovery call.

Trigger Tracker Template — Plan the coping strategies you will use to get through the experience.

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

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

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

Photo by Trent Erwin on Unsplash

Cyndi Bennett

Believer. Leader. Learner. Advocate. Writer. Speaker. Coach. Mentor. Triathlete. Encourager. Survivor.
 
Most of all, I am a fellow traveler on the rocky road called, Trauma Recovery. My mission is to minimize the effects of trauma for survivors in the workplace.

For trauma survivors, the workplace can be an emotional minefield. Our past experiences often leave us with heightened sensitivity to stress, making it challenging to regulate our emotions, especially in high-pressure situations. As a fellow survivor, I’ve faced these struggles firsthand — from anxiety during meetings to feeling overwhelmed by daily interactions.

But there’s hope. Through my journey and conversations with other survivors, I’ve discovered effective strategies for managing our unique emotional challenges at work. This blog shares practical, tested techniques that can help us not just cope but thrive in our professional lives.

Whether you’re dealing with anxiety, boundary issues, or general emotional overwhelm at work, know that you’re not alone. More importantly, there are concrete steps you can take to build resilience and regain a sense of control. Let’s explore these tools together, turning our experiences into a source of strength in the workplace.

Validating Our Emotional Responses

As trauma survivors, it’s crucial to understand and validate our emotional responses in the workplace. Our experiences have shaped our nervous system, often leading to heightened reactivity to stress and potential threats. This sensitivity isn’t a flaw or weakness — it’s a natural adaptation that our brains have developed to protect us.

When we encounter challenging situations at work, such as confrontational meetings, unexpected criticisms, or high-pressure deadlines, our bodies might react as if we’re facing a serious threat. This can manifest as intense anxiety, anger, or even emotional numbness. While sometimes overwhelming, these responses are valid and understandable, given our past experiences.

Recognizing the validity of our emotions serves several important purposes:

1. Self-compassion: By acknowledging that our reactions are normal given our experiences, we can cultivate self-compassion rather than self-criticism.
2. Reduced shame: Understanding that our responses are not a personal failing can help reduce feelings of shame or inadequacy in the workplace.
3. Increased self-awareness: Validating our emotions allows us to observe them more objectively, which is the first step towards managing them effectively.
4. Improved communication: When we accept our own emotional responses, we’re better equipped to communicate our needs and boundaries to colleagues and supervisors.

While validating our emotions is essential, developing strategies to regulate these responses is equally important. Learning to modulate our reactions doesn’t mean suppressing or ignoring our emotions. Instead, it involves developing tools to navigate our feelings effectively, allowing us to engage professionally while honoring our experiences.

By striking a balance between validation and regulation, we can harness the unique strengths that come from our experiences — such as heightened empathy and resilience — while mitigating the challenges. This balanced approach empowers us to not just survive but thrive in our professional lives, turning our trauma history into a source of growth and strength in the workplace.

Building Your Emotional Regulation Toolkit

Developing a toolkit of emotional regulation strategies can be empowering for trauma survivors in the workplace. These techniques can help us manage our emotional responses, reduce stress, and maintain professional composure even in challenging situations. While it may take time to find the methods that work best for you, practicing these strategies regularly can significantly improve your ability to navigate workplace emotions. Let’s explore some effective techniques:

• Grounding Techniques. When emotions start to escalate, grounding techniques can help us stay present. Try the 5–4–3–2–1 method: identify 5 things you can see, 4 things you can touch, 3 things you can hear, 2 things you can smell, and 1 thing you can taste.
• Breath Work. Deep, controlled breathing can activate our parasympathetic nervous system, helping to calm us down. Practice box breathing: inhale for 4 counts, hold for 4, exhale for 4, hold for 4, and repeat.
• Emotion Labeling. Simply naming our emotions can help reduce their intensity. When you’re feeling overwhelmed, identify and label what you’re feeling specifically.
• Creating Space. If possible, give yourself a brief moment of space when emotions run high. This could be as simple as excusing yourself to get a glass of water or taking a short walk.
• Positive Self-Talk. Develop a set of calming phrases you can repeat to yourself, such as “I am safe,” “This will pass,” or “I can handle this.”
• Body Scan. Regularly check in with your body. Where are you holding tension? Can you consciously relax those areas?
• Reframing. Try to reframe challenging situations. Instead of “This is terrible,” try “This is difficult, but I can learn from it.”

Proactive Strategies for Challenging Interactions

While developing emotional regulation strategies is crucial, preparing ourselves for potentially challenging workplace situations is equally important. As trauma survivors, we may find certain interactions more difficult than others. We can approach these challenges with greater confidence and resilience by anticipating them and developing proactive strategies. Here are some key approaches to help you prepare for and navigate challenging workplace interactions:

• Anticipate and Plan. If you know a challenging interaction is coming up, plan ahead. Visualize yourself staying calm and responding the way you’d like to.
• Set Boundaries. It’s okay to set boundaries around interactions that you find particularly challenging. This might involve requesting a mediator for difficult conversations or asking for important information in writing.
• Practice Self-Care. Regular self-care can build our emotional resilience. This includes getting enough sleep, eating well, exercising, and engaging in activities we enjoy outside of work.

The Journey of Emotional Growth

Developing emotional regulation skills is a process and a practice. Be patient with yourself as you learn and practice these strategies. It’s okay if you don’t get it right every time — each challenging interaction is an opportunity to learn and grow.

By working on our emotional regulation, we’re not just improving our work lives — we’re also taking important steps in our healing journey. Each time we successfully navigate a challenging interaction, we’re proving to ourselves that we can thrive despite our past trauma.

Reflective Practice

To deepen your understanding and application of these strategies, consider the following questions for self-reflection and journaling:

1. Think about a time when you successfully managed your emotions during a challenging workplace interaction. What strategies did you use, and how did they help you?
2. Consider the unique emotional intelligence you’ve developed as a result of your experiences. How has this enhanced your ability to navigate workplace relationships?
3. Imagine a future work scenario where you feel completely in control of your emotional responses. What does this look like, and what small step could you take tomorrow to move closer to this vision?

An Invitation

If you’d like to join an online community of other resilient overcomers focusing on their careers, I invite you to join The Resilient Career Academy™ Community. (RCA Community)

The RCA Community is a group dedicated to helping/supporting those working to overcome adversity and achieve their full potential in their careers.

The benefits to you are:

Community — The community provides support, encouragement, the ability to share frustrations and get feedback from people who understand the struggle
Workplace/Career Resources — The group provides tools, resources, and templates to help you with your career journey
Available Coaching Support — The community is supported by trained and certified coaches who are available for individual sessions
Learning — You will have access to various trauma/workplace-related online courses developed by our coaches to help you in your journey
Workshops/Webinars — You will have access to practical workshops/webinars targeted to help you in the workplace grow your career
If you are interested in joining us, click here: https://resilientcareeracademy.myflodesk.com/community

As always, you do not have to walk this journey alone. Contact me to schedule your free discovery call.

Trigger Tracker Template — Place and plan the coping strategies you will use to get through the experience.

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

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

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

Photo by Riccardo Annandale on Unsplash

Cyndi Bennett

Believer. Leader. Learner. Advocate. Writer. Speaker. Coach. Mentor. Triathlete. Encourager. Survivor.
 
Most of all, I am a fellow traveler on the rocky road called, Trauma Recovery. My mission is to minimize the effects of trauma for survivors in the workplace.

How Trauma Alters Our Nervous System

To navigate the professional world with a trauma-affected nervous system, it’s crucial to understand how trauma has fundamentally altered our body’s stress response mechanisms.

Trauma doesn’t just change our memories or emotions; it rewires our nervous system at a biological level. In a healthy state, our nervous system maintains a delicate balance between the sympathetic (“fight or flight”) and parasympathetic (“rest and digest”) responses. Trauma, however, can severely disrupt this equilibrium.

This disruption often manifests in two primary ways:

1. Hyperarousal: Our system gets stuck in “high alert” mode.
2. Hypoarousal: We experience a state of emotional numbing or disconnection.

How many of us have vacillated between these two extremes multiple times daily in the workplace? I know I have. I can go from being on high alert to shutting down in a matter of minutes, and I don’t think I’m alone in that experience.

These alterations in our nervous system can lead to several observable effects:

• Hypervigilance: Our threat-detection system goes into overdrive, constantly scanning for danger, even in objectively safe environments like our workplace.
• Exaggerated Startle Response: Ordinary stimuli, such as a colleague’s sudden laughter or an unexpected email notification, can trigger a disproportionate physiological reaction.
• Emotional Dysregulation: We may experience intense emotional fluctuations that seem out of sync with the current situation, making professional interactions challenging.
• Impaired Cognitive Function: Our ability to focus, make decisions, or remember details may be compromised as our brain prioritizes scanning for threats over other cognitive tasks.
• Somatic Manifestations: Unexplained physical symptoms like chronic tension, digestive issues, or persistent fatigue may emerge as our body remains in a state of high alert.
• Difficulty with Interpersonal Boundaries: We might struggle to establish and maintain healthy professional relationships due to trust issues or fear of vulnerability.

At the beginning of my healing journey, after the zip file of repressed memories opened up for me, I did not know what was happening to me. I went from being a high-functioning overachiever to not being able to function at all due to the very things I mentioned above. The worst part was that I had no language to articulate what was happening. My external hypervigilance turned inward toward what was happening inside of me, and I felt very overwhelmed by it all.

Being able to recognize these neurobiological changes is a big step toward shifting our perspective on workplace challenges. Instead of viewing our struggles as personal failings, we can understand them as adaptive responses to past trauma. This insight empowers us to develop strategies that work in harmony with our rewired nervous system, enhancing our professional resilience and growth.

Navigating Work with a Trauma-Affected Nervous System

It took me a long time to get to the place where I was able to develop an approach for managing our responses in the workplace, and I want to share it with you today so you won’t have to struggle like I did:

• Recognize Your Triggers. Understanding what sets off our nervous system is crucial. Is it loud noises? Unexpected touch? Certain phrases? We can better prepare for and manage our responses by identifying these triggers. I created a free tool to help you track your triggers in the workplace: Workplace Trigger Tracker (click to get your free copy)
• Learn Your Signs of Dysregulation. Our bodies often signal dysregulation before our minds catch up. For me, it’s a tightness in my chest and a slight tremor in my hands. Recognizing these early signs allows us to take action sooner.
• Develop a Toolkit of Grounding Techniques. It is essential to have readily available grounding techniques. These might include deep breathing, sensory objects, or brief mindfulness exercises. Find what works for you and keep these tools accessible.
• Create a Safety Plan. Work with your therapist or coach to develop a safety plan for when you feel overwhelmed at work. This might include steps like taking a brief walk, using a calming app, or reaching out to a support person.
• Practice Self-Compassion. Remember, our nervous system responses aren’t a choice. Be kind to yourself when you experience difficulties. Self-compassion can actually help regulate our nervous system.
• Communicate Your Needs (When Safe). If you feel safe doing so, communicate your needs to your supervisor or HR. This might include requesting accommodations like a quieter workspace or flexible breaks.
• Prioritize Rest and Recovery. Our nervous systems need extra care. Prioritize rest, both during work (taking short breaks) and outside of work (establishing solid self-care routines).
• Seek Professional Support. Working with a trauma-informed therapist or coach can provide invaluable support in managing our nervous system responses at work.
• Find Your Allies. If possible, connect with understanding colleagues or join support groups for trauma survivors in the workplace. Knowing we’re not alone can be incredibly comforting.
• Celebrate Your Resilience. Navigating work with a trauma-affected nervous system is challenging. Acknowledge and celebrate your strength and resilience in facing this challenge daily.

Remember, this journey is uniquely yours. What works for one person may not work for another, and that’s okay. Be patient with yourself as you learn to navigate your professional life with your trauma-affected nervous system.

You’re not alone in this journey. By sharing our experiences and strategies, we can support each other in creating workplaces that are more understanding and accommodating for trauma survivors.

Questions for Self-Reflection and Journaling:

1. Reflect on a time when you successfully managed a challenging situation at work despite your nervous system’s response. What strategies or strengths did you use that you could apply more often?
2. Consider the unique insights or skills you’ve developed as a result of navigating work with a trauma-affected nervous system. How have these enhanced your professional capabilities?
3. Imagine a workday where you feel completely supported and in tune with your nervous system’s needs. What does this look like, and what small step could you take tomorrow to move closer to this vision?

An Invitation

If you’d like to join an online community of other resilient overcomers focusing on their careers, I invite you to join The Resilient Career Academy™ Community. (RCA Community)

The RCA Community is a group dedicated to helping/supporting those working to overcome adversity and achieve their full potential in their careers.

The benefits to you are:

Community — The community provides support, encouragement, the ability to share frustrations and get feedback from people who understand the struggle
Workplace/Career Resources — The group provides tools, resources, and templates to help you with your career journey
Available Coaching Support — The community is supported by trained and certified coaches who are available for individual sessions
Learning — You will have access to various trauma/workplace-related online courses developed by our coaches to help you in your journey
Workshops/Webinars — You will have access to practical workshops/webinars targeted to help you in the workplace grow your career
If you are interested in joining us, click here: https://resilientcareeracademy.myflodesk.com/community

As always, you do not have to walk this journey alone. Contact me to schedule your free discovery call.

Trigger Tracker Template — Plan the coping strategies you will use to get through the experience.

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

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

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

Photo by Jean-Frederic Fortier on Unsplash

Cyndi Bennett

Believer. Leader. Learner. Advocate. Writer. Speaker. Coach. Mentor. Triathlete. Encourager. Survivor.
 
Most of all, I am a fellow traveler on the rocky road called, Trauma Recovery. My mission is to minimize the effects of trauma for survivors in the workplace.

“Be careful whom you trust; evil cloaks itself in many forms.”

What is love if it doesn’t hurt, or like in my case, crash with a whimper? Perhaps your first crush was like mine? Nick was a 20-something Anglo-Indian with Bobby Deol’s looks, John Travolta’s swagger, and an angelic, disarming purity. We met on a rainy day outside his place; cousin Martin played matchmaker. Me, a rebellious teen with a sassy, blunt bob, shook hands with this shy guy whose guileless grin hit like a thunderbolt. Then he spoke, and it all went downhill — his voice was a bizarre mix of Sachin Tendulkar’s soft drawl and Michael Jackson’s high-pitched lilt. Although I was a die-hard MJ fan, I was gutted. Nope, not my vibe, despite my love for Jacko’s voice.

Jokes aside, all humans are creatures of habit. Our routine is sacrosanct, and so are our friends, family, and community. But what happens if this fragile thread of trust breaks? Much like the Garden of Eden, where roses bloom, you will find thorns. The past is engraved into our DNA as unspoken codes, known as epigenetic trauma.

Trauma from abuse and neglect creates CPTSD, unseen scars that affect both victims and future generations.

The Boomerang!

When you heal from an abusive childhood and CPTSD, it becomes imperative to find opportunities to recover through healthy gene expression by reversing toxic epigenetic patterns. My friend Bella has been through so much pain and trauma; it hurts her even as an adult. Her mother was a stunning single mother living in a small town who attracted many suitors. Unfortunately, she chose an unworthy man, a balding sadist whose charm concealed his vicious nature. Bella, barely 6 years old, immediately recognized that he was someone who made her uncomfortable—a predator in disguise. While her mother, blinded by love, saw his viciousness as humor and his control as love.

The False Pillars of Trust

We all lean on a support system, believing they’ll protect us. But pillars crumble, and Bella’s stepdad was no pillar. Meanwhile, her mother demanded that the siblings call him “Dad” before vows were even exchanged.

This situation resembles those who believe, “if you pretend it doesn’t exist, it will all just blow away!” The red flags were obvious if only her mother had opened her eyes.

The Predator’s Playground

One dusk, in her school playground, after everyone had left, the predator struck, forcing a humiliating punishment for being defiant. Right there before her “mother’s” eyes, he asked the 6-year-old Bella to roll down her pants and air her shame to the elements. If she didn’t abide by the ignominy, her ears would be boxed, taunted, or worse. So the scared little girl did so as speedily as she could, turning 360 degrees in a hurry, lest someone catch a glimpse of her unmentionables and laugh at her disgrace. The bald Lilliputian bully thought it was funny. As time rolled on, he proceeded to demean little Bella every day. So much so that she hated being around her mother or him. Then, finally, one day, the little girl put her foot down and threw a tantrum. As they say, bullies hate being called out.

And so that put a stop to the mortification for some time. But the tormentor found other ways to hurt her. The nightmare grew when he married her mother, finding new ways to subvert—locking up Bella, exploiting her fears and phobias, and thrashing her for minor mistakes. Her sibling stood by her, helpless but loyal, enduring the same.

Their mother never questioned. The sadist thrived on this pain; his cruelty became a twisted game. Bella grew moody and withdrawn, her childhood stolen by a man who cloaked perversion in parenting. Even when the siblings became adults, when he returned from his “overseas job,” his harassment evolved—unwelcome touches, suggestive innuendos, all disguised as fun. Relatives turned a blind eye, abetting the crime with silence. What is worse, we may ask—the predator or those who let him roam unchecked?

Pamela Calls Out the “Peeping Tom”

My friend Pam was eleven when she visited her hometown for a wedding. She stayed at her Uncle John’s mansion. Pam loved playing with her gang of little cousins, stirring mischief amid the wedding chaos. One day, while climbing the mansion roof, they caught her uncle John’s youngest son, Nathan, 16 and notorious, sprawled like a snake, peeping into a bathroom window. Pam’s outraged scream rallied the family, their racket drawing the aunts. Nathan was thrashed, his name forever tainted. Later visits to her uncle John’s had the women bathing with extra caution. Nathan’s married now, but do the ladies in the family trust him? Never.

Father Bob’s Redemption

All my life, I have been inspired by the Australian Roman Catholic priest Father Bob, or Robert John Maguire. He was no stranger to abuse and neglect. Born into poverty, his childhood reeked of alcohol and violence, his father’s fists bruising both mother and son. Orphaned by fifteen, losing his sister to tuberculosis at eleven, Father Bob carried scars deeper than flesh. Yet, those wounds didn’t break him; they forged a priest with a rebel’s heart, a champion for the forgotten. He was a man who turned pain into purpose, serving the marginalized with a fire no abuser could snuff out.

The Unending Trauma: An Anarchist’s Creed

Writing this cuts deep, so I shroud it, shielding the raw ache of my own memories. I’m familiar with darkness. As a paradox of pragmatism and rebellion, I always speak my mind. Life has taught me to confront truths. Scars make us realize that trust is earned. Bella’s challenging childhood didn’t break her; instead, she emerged strong, building a life filled with family, community, and a successful career. She learned to forgive—not just her abusers, but herself. Her journey mirrors that of Father Bob Maguire, whose upbringing in poverty and violence shaped him into an advocate for the marginalized. Both their experiences transformed pain into resilience and empathy.

Rewriting the Epigenetic Script

Epigenetic trauma is a silent phantom in our blood, passing pain across generations. Healing doesn’t erase these scars—it transmutes them, forging resilience, redemption, and forgiveness to break the cycle.

1. Awareness: Name the Ghost. Healing begins by confronting the past.

2. Re-regulating the Body: Alter your stress-related genes through meditation, exercise, and breathwork. This will ease anxiety and calm the nervous system.

3. Rewriting the Narrative: Change your story with therapy to transform from victim to survivor.

4. Crafting a New Epigenetic Landscape: When you regulate your lifestyle, you reshape your genes.

5. Breaking the Karmic Cycle: Exploring advocacy work can help. Many survivors of abuse and rape have found healing in the sharing of stories.

Final Thoughts: The Long Road Ahead

Intergenerational trauma is woven into our DNA through epigenetics and shapes who we become. Researchers have unpacked its neurobiological toll, offering sharp intellectual clarity. As for me, Mark Wolynn’s “It Didn’t Start with You” ignited my own CPTSD journey. Parents and children bear the physical, emotional, and psychological scars of past trauma, linked to disorders like depression, PTSD, and chronic fatigue syndrome.

Animal studies reveal early stress rewires brain regions like the hippocampus, impairing cognition. Science shows us that lifestyle and therapy can shift gene expression. You may not be able to erase your past but you can rewrite your story, and heal your darkest shadows for the generations that come after you. It is time to find your path—whether through art, expression, service, community, reading, or therapy—and rewrite your own destiny.

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

References and sources:

NCBI

PMC

Psychology Today

Verywell Mind

Johns Hopkins Medicine

Photo by digitale.de 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.

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/

My father finally died a few months ago. Survivors will understand the word finally. I thought he would never die. Billy Joel’s song “Only the Good Die Young” was certainly true in this situation. I had gone no contact about seven years before, but the shadow of power this man wielded over my life continued, whether I was in contact with him or not. I even moved all the way across the country to put space between me and him. Space between the present and the past. The constructed reality he demanded everyone agree with, the dominating presence where no voice save his was heard, the judgmental pronouncements of doom and gloom over your life, the complete lack of understanding or empathy. These were just a few of the ways his brainwashing impacted me. 

These were just a few of the ways his brainwashing impacted me. 

And when he died, instead of the relief I felt at my mother’s passing, a terrible door that had been shut for over sixty years was opened. The parts of me from childhood that had split off and carried the load felt free to come forward, and it was hard. Hard to face them, hard to talk to them, and hard to become an ally to them instead of an enemy. 

There are no words to describe the damage and loss that occur when your parents choose the path of narcissism. To their very grave, my parents never had the slightest inkling of self-awareness or took any personal responsibility. In fact, my sibling and I were “disinherited.” The old threat to keep me within my father’s orbit finally came true. For me, I could understand it; I walked away years ago. But for my sibling who provided for my father financially and took care of his ex-wife, our mother, who otherwise would have been homeless, it was a low blow. Yet again, the narcissist showed his true colors. It did not matter what you did for the man; he did not know how to do anything other than hurt us. His final message? “You are worthless.” 

But I survived, and guess what? My father was wrong. It took everything I had to slog through the twisted spider web of lies he had spun. I spent decades trying to understand, reaching toward the truth that seemed to dissipate into mist at the slightest stress. To quiet the dissonance in my mind, heart, and soul. I used every technique and read every book I could get my hands on, but you know what? I made it. I have written a new chapter, established new relationships, and I walk in truth. What does the Bible say? The truth will set you free? Yep, that’s what it says. I can wonder at the joy in life, pursue dreams and goals I never thought reachable, and more than anything else, I can finish well, leaving a legacy of peace, encouragement, and kindness to my children. 

I pity my mother and father. They never knew how wonderful life could be. It is still hard sometimes, I suppose I will always bear the scars to a certain degree, but I made it. I made it out, and I am so thankful I did not give up. Defy trauma, embrace joy. It is worth it.

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Rebekah Brown

Rebekah Brown, a native of the south, now resides in the Great American West. Surviving a complicated and abusive family system makes her unique writing style insightful as well as uplifting. Rebekah is the proud mother of two and grandmother of four.