Understanding the Impact of CPTSD on Personality

Trauma fundamentally changes how individuals view themselves, others, and the world around them. In CPTSD, the effects are often pervasive, shaping emotions, beliefs, and behaviours. Common personality changes may include hypervigilance, where individuals are constantly alert to potential danger, and persistent low self-worth, driven by feelings of guilt or shame. Many people with CPTSD also experience emotional dysregulation, where they struggle to manage intense emotions, often cycling through anger, sadness, or anxiety. These changes are survival mechanisms developed during periods of trauma but tend to persist, disrupting relationships and everyday life even when danger has passed.

How CPTSD Impacts Trust

Trust is one of the most significant casualties of prolonged trauma. The very essence of CPTSD involves a betrayal of safety, which creates deep-seated mistrust in people, systems, and even oneself.

For individuals with CPTSD, trusting others often feels unsafe or even dangerous. Relationships may be approached with suspicion, skepticism, or outright avoidance, as they constantly anticipate betrayal. Conversely, some survivors may overextend trust to gain approval or prevent rejection, leaving them vulnerable to exploitation or re-traumatisation.

Trust issues also extend inward. Many survivors struggle with self-doubt, questioning their own perceptions, decisions, or worth. This internalised mistrust can feel paralysing, preventing individuals from confidently navigating relationships or decisions. Furthermore, fear of intimacy often develops, as the vulnerability required for deep connections triggers reminders of past betrayals, leading to emotional walls and isolation.

Personality Changes Over Time

The cumulative impact of trust issues and trauma responses often leads to significant long-term personality changes. While not universal, many people with CPTSD experience heightened sensitivity to rejection. This can cause intense emotional reactions to perceived slights, even if unintentional.

Defensive behaviours are also common, such as isolating from others or relying on perfectionism as a means of control and protection. These coping mechanisms, while initially protective, can prevent individuals from forming meaningful connections or embracing growth.

Chronic guilt or shame also becomes a dominant trait for many. Survivors of prolonged trauma often internalise their experiences, believing they are fundamentally flawed or to blame for their suffering. These beliefs shape identity and self-esteem, making it difficult to engage confidently with the world.

Lastly, relationships may oscillate between extremes of closeness and distancing as survivors struggle to balance the fear of abandonment with the need for connection. This dynamic can lead to cycles of idealisation and devaluation, further complicating personal and social interactions.

The Path to Healing and Growth

While CPTSD creates significant challenges, healing and growth are attainable with the right tools and support. Rebuilding trust and addressing personality changes involves small, intentional steps and a willingness to confront past wounds.

• Seek Trauma-Informed Therapy: Approaches like EMDR (Eye Movement Desensitisation and Reprocessing), Cognitive Behavioural Therapy (CBT), or Dialectical Behaviour Therapy (DBT) are highly effective in addressing trauma’s root causes and teaching new coping mechanisms.
• Rebuild Trust Gradually: Begin by trusting yourself through small commitments and achievable goals. Surround yourself with safe individuals who demonstrate reliability and respect.
• Practice Self-Compassion: Healing guilt and shame starts with kindness toward yourself. Techniques like mindfulness, journaling, and affirmations can challenge negative beliefs and reinforce your worth.
• Develop Healthy Boundaries: Learn to set and maintain boundaries in relationships, protecting your emotional and mental space while fostering mutual respect.

Engage in Support Networks: Whether through support groups, friends, or community resources, connecting with others who understand your journey can provide strength and validation.

A Journey of Transformation

The effects of CPTSD on trust and personality are deeply ingrained but not insurmountable. Healing requires patience, persistence, and support from trusted professionals and networks. Through intentional effort, survivors can begin to rebuild their sense of self, reclaim their resilience, and foster healthier, more fulfilling relationships.

While the road to recovery may be challenging, it also offers opportunities for profound transformation. By addressing the wounds of the past, individuals with CPTSD can step into a future defined not by their trauma but by their strength, growth, and renewed ability to trust.

If you have been impacted by betrayal, you might like to check out my blog, Betrayal Trauma & CPTSD. https://cptsdfoundation.org/2022/09/22/betrayal-trauma-cptsd/

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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.

Tracy Guy

Tracy Guy is a published author and a proud guest writer for the C-PTSD Foundation. Professionally, Tracy has experience in mental health and muti-trauma nursing and is now a full-time registered counsellor working with people struggling with complex trauma, anxiety, and grief. Her passion for writing, unwavering instinct to help others, and professional and lived experience drives Tracy to support and advocate for those suffering from debilitating traumatic experiences and C-PTSD. Tracy hopes to raise understanding and awareness of C-PTSD, more specifically, the association of C-PTSD with abusive relationships.

I was 19 years old, barely out of high school, and trauma had eaten away at my psyche like burning frostbite.

Colorado to Alaska, Alaska to Iowa. Iowa to Montana, Montana to Colorado, Colorado to Iowa. Wherever he went, my dog, Abraxas, and I followed. In January 1970, Tom was talking about traveling to Alaska to work on the pipeline instead of enrolling in the spring semester at the Colorado State College, where we had met. 

We went on the hare-brained adventure, driving the Alaska Highway with a friend. Kenny had a 1965 Ford F250 pickup truck with a baby blue chassis and a white roof and skirting. The men intended to get work and get rich working on the trans-Alaskan pipeline. I don’t remember making plans so much as simply agreeing to go along, being certain that the man I thought I loved would take care of me. 

I was 19 years old, barely out of high school, and trauma had eaten away at my psyche like burning frostbite. What I had endured up to this point was beyond what my brain could process. I was exhausted from trying to make sense of things, and I passively decided to turn my will over to Tom and let him make the decisions because I couldn’t. I was easily triggered and once I was triggered or in a flashback, I found it very hard to regulate my emotions. Trying to make rational decisions was about as effective as that frostbite victim with three fingers trying to insert a tiny screw into a delicate item. 

Experts say that safety is a core issue for survivors of CPTSD

Of course, we didn’t know about PTSD or Complex PTSD (CPTSD) at that time. Research about CPTSD was a long way off. Judith Herman didn’t even coin the term until 1992. 

Experts say that safety is a core issue for survivors of CPTSD. Safety means feeling secure, and that risk, danger, or injury is reduced from occurring. Safety exists not only in the physical sense, but also includes feeling safe emotionally, mentally, and psychologically. I can say without hyperbole that I had never experienced a day of safety up until this point.

I thought Tom was my safety, and I couldn’t stand the thought of him leaving me.

He was older. He was so smart. He had wealthy parents who worshipped him. He loved me. I could trust that what he said was true. He said there were great jobs in Alaska, so we threw things into bags and loaded Kenny’s pickup. I didn’t want to be in college, anyway, and I sure as hell didn’t want to live in the same town as my father and stepmother.

America was in chaos between the many protests against the Vietnam War, the protests by marginalized people who sought social justice, and the conservative backlash against the tumultuous 1960s.

Let me on that truck.

From the perch of the Ford’s blue and black plaid upholstered cab, we picked up the Alaska Highway outside of Dawson Creek, British Columbia. Winding and rolling through the wilderness, Tom and Kenny took turns driving and shifting the four gears on the column. Although I was perfectly capable of driving a stick shift, “The Little Lady” was not allowed to drive the big boy truck.

Winter is the best time to travel the two-lane Alaskan Highway. Canada still had permafrost, and we bounced over chuckholes, loose gravel, and frost heaves relatively easily. The last 33-mile-long passage was the dirt Yukon Trail that wound through rustic, wild country. Thousands of acres of evergreens. Old buildings that looked like they belonged on a Western movie set. Tiny towns growing more rural and Northern. Hard-drinking, funky taverns with ungulate antennaed heads staring lugubriously from walls. Scruffy bearded men gaped at me as though I were some kind of confection ready to be consumed.

We snaked through the wilderness. On our stops for gas in northern Canada, we started to see a stomach remedy similar to Alta Seltzer being sold under the name Madelon Bromo. We couldn’t help but notice this product, as the spelling of my name is unique. Tom thought that a Canadian stomach product with my unusual spelling was incredibly funny and something to tease me about. Thus, I became known as Madelon Bromo. At first, I thought it was funny, too. But after days of being called Madelon Bromo, I asked Tom to stop because it hurt my feelings.

“Oh,” out came the falsetto voice. “Little Madelon has her feelings hurt. Oh, that’s so sad about her feelings (His voice went up at least two octaves and dripped with contempt on that last word, as though feelings were something so dirty the word could hardly be spoken.).” He spoke with a combination of superiority and disgust. I kept a blank face, but my insides were twisted in intense shame. I never said another word about mocking nicknames. It was easier to let him pick away at my minuscule self-esteem. I quickly learned that expressing my emotions or needs just made me a bigger target. Well, that was the way I grew up. I did whatever I thought I had to do to stay some kind of safe.

The farther north we drove, the meaner Tom got. Sandwiched between two big men, I fought off panic and flashbacks and was fully aware of my helplessness in this untenable situation. This started out as a fun adventure. I quickly came to realize that my life was in the hands of two hefty men I hardly knew. Rolling through the extreme northwest corner of Canada, we passed Grey Mountain southeast of Whitehorse, Canada. As we drove into Whitehorse in the Yukon Territory, we decided to stock up on some groceries. I knew how to do this, so I started loading basics into the grocery cart. The selection was poor, but I purchased what I could and brought it back to the pickup.

“This is what you call butter?” sneered Tom as he picked up the sticks of margarine, his mustached lips curled in disgust. I looked at him in confusion. “Ummm. Isn’t that butter?”

“No, Madelon. Read the label. This is not butter. It’s margarine. Marg. Are. In.” He then superciliously began reading off the ingredients: “vegetable oil blend, water and whey, artificial flavoring, beta carotene, citric acid, diglycerides, monoglycerides, salt, soy lecithin, and vitamin A palmitate. Does that sound like butter to you? For fuck sake, it’s not even food. Why would you want to eat this?”

“I don’t know. It’s what my family always bought. And it’s a whole lot cheaper than real butter.” 

For god’s sake, man, just let it drop. 

I have to wonder now where Tom got his information about the vast money to be made in Alaska, as we traveled there in 1970. It wasn’t as though one could hop on the Internet and get the scoop. I have just recently learned that the construction of the Trans-Alaskan pipeline took place between 1975 and 1979. I guess that answers my questions about why he never got any work in Alaska.

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.

Madelon Wise

Gardening grandma riddled with radical biophilia in the nice Midwest. Animism. Permaculture. Social Justice. Beauty. Dogs. Photography. Retired Writer-Editor working to raise awareness of child abuse, child neglect, and CPTSD.

I am writing my memoir.

uttgardhag.wordpress.com/home/blog-posts/

My boss is a great lady who genuinely cares about and takes care of her people. On this trip, she really took care of us by renting a mini-van to drive us back and forth to the hotel, paying for dinners on her corporate card, and looking for opportunities for us to have fun (like stopping for Philly cheesesteaks on the way to the airport).

Pushing Back Against Bing Cared For 

Early in the trip, I found myself pushing back against being cared for, so I got a little curious about that. As a trauma survivor with severe attachment wounds, it is understandable that I sometimes have issues with authorities in my life. The catch here was that she was doing nothing wrong or bad…everything she was doing was with kindness and gentleness to care for us, but I was resisting that.

I started to ask myself what that was about. It was definitely a trauma response. I quickly realized this was related to the bind children experience when they naturally turn to their caregivers for comfort/support, and those caregivers are abusive like my dad was.

In Janina Fisher’s book, Healing the Fragmented Selves of Trauma Survivors, she says, “When attachment figures are abusive, the child’s only source of safety and protection becomes simultaneously the source of immediate danger, leaving the child caught between two conflicting sets of instincts. On the one hand, they are driven by the attachment instinct to seek proximity, comfort, and protection from attachment figures. On the other, they are driven by equally strong animal defense instincts to freeze, fight, flee, or submit or dissociate before they get too close to the frightening parent”(p. 24).

While that made sense to me, I recognized it as part of the living legacy of trauma under which I no longer had to operate. As trauma survivors, it is important for us to live in the “NOW” because that is where we have our POWER. As children, we did not have the ability or the power to protect and care for ourselves, but we do NOW.

Attachment in the Workplace

The residual effect of attachment wounds as children show up all the time in the workplace, but we may not recognize it. Have you ever observed a person at work who has to do everything for themselves and doesn’t want anyone mucking around in their sandbox? Have you ever seen someone or even experienced yourself being overwhelmed by being over capacity and swirling because they/you could not ask for help?

Sometimes this behavior is even rewarded both in childhood and adulthood, which makes it harder to recognize. Parents or teachers are often thrilled by a child who takes responsibility for their own care and is less of a drag on their already thin emotional resources. As managers/leaders, we are relieved when we have a self-sufficient employee who doesn’t require much care and feeding. They are low maintenance.

What we don’t see is that on the inside, these children and adults are functioning in full-on survival mode. They are doing only what is necessary for safety and survival. When we constantly operate out of survival mode, it starts to break down our health due to increased cortisol levels and the inability to relax. It is not sustainable and will eventually result in anxiety, fatigue, and depression.

Sinking into Support

Even though I have done a lot of work in therapy, the habitual pattern of thinking that I have to take care of myself still creeps up at times, as it did on my trip; only now, I have the tools to be able to manage it.

I acknowledged that this was related to my attachment wounds and reminded myself that my boss was not my father. So, basically, I became more present with the current situation and put my past back in its place. Once I addressed that old thinking, I was able to sink into my manager’s care without feeling threatened by it.

Since this is a relatively new experience for me, I want to describe what it felt like for me. It felt like laying down in the middle of a bed that had a super duper mattress topper on it and then being covered up with blankets. It felt like being held and rocked as a child. I felt safe and cared for…and relaxed. It was like the 1,000-pound gorilla was no longer on my back. It was awesome. I was amazed by how good it felt.

That is how support is supposed to feel. It should hold you up. It should take the weight off of you. It should assist you and enable you to function at a higher level.

This is what I do as a coach, which is why I love what I do. I want my folks to feel the support that they might never have experienced in their lives before. I want to help them live in the present and achieve the career goals they have set for themselves. I want to enable them to function at a higher level in the workplace.

You don’t have to do this alone

If you are struggling with overcoming the living legacy of trauma in your work life, you are not alone, and you don’t have to manage it alone. We were never meant to carry this burden or walk the path to healing alone. The weight is too heavy, and the journey is too long.

What about you? Where are you in your healing journey? Are you still trying to go it alone? Are you curious about what it would be like to have support? Are you just plain tired of having to pull yourself up by your bootstraps over and over again…alone?

I’m here for you. You can find me at www.cyndibennettconsulting.com. Schedule your complimentary discovery call today.

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.

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.

Who can you trust after a childhood of trauma and deep hurt? If, as a child, you have never known anything but trauma, trust is the opposite of your entire world. The communication network is non-existent around you as often all adults you have encountered are self-absorbed in their own agendas. Your needs and wants have never been considered. Your trust in adults was broken in the most fundamental and brutal way. You know what I mean because as survivors we carry those scars deeply embedded within our bodies and our minds.

Step 1 – Trust yourself

A survivor who has been able to break away from their abusers has already taken a huge leap forward. They have trusted in their own instinct to get away and start again. It takes a lot to go against everything you know and break away into a new world. The first step is to trust that your life can and will get better. Most kids leave home when they are ready to as they reach a certain age and have finished their education. They are ready to take on the world knowing they have a job and somewhere to live with their loving parents as a backup. It is fail-safe. For an individual who has suffered from abuse in whatever form that might be, to leave is simply not as easy. An abusive parent is often still abusing their grown-up child long after they leave home. The abuse itself changes to threats, and withdrawal of money, and support, but it is still abuse. It is done with the intent to make another human being suffer. It can go on and on and be a constant thread during the holidays and special occasions. What I am interested in exploring in this blog is how a survivor learns to trust after a life filled without it. It doesn’t matter if their abusers are still in their life or not.

Step 2 – Trust your surroundings

You leave “that house” firmly behind you. With each step, your breath feels lighter as if the pressure around your body is becoming less. You are doing this! You are leaving! Your focus changes to your surroundings as you become aware that you are entering unchartered territory. In my case, it was the airport. It got me as I plunged into ice water. My entire body prickled with constant inputs of danger. There were so many people running or rushing past me burdened with heavy suitcases. The PA system blares out constant announcements of flight boarding or last calls. I started panicking. My body wanted to curl up in a corner. I didn’t belong here! I want to go home! I turned back sharply ending up in the arms of the biggest man I had ever seen towering all around me as he caught me. I pushed my hands over my head to cover myself for the blow I was certain to come… It never did. Instead, kind blue eyes stared down at me telling me it was an accident and was I ok? What? Was I okay? He asked me again and offered to help me find my way. I will never forget that moment. The kindness of a stranger. I even remember the way he smelled. Pine. It was a different scent than I had smelled before.

The plane journey was equally terrifying. I love being free and in the great outdoors. The plane was a Boeing 747, like a huge wide bus with wings and it was going to carry me to freedom. I had never been on an airplane before. I didn’t trust how the plane was going to carry all of the passengers and fly. There wasn’t an empty seat. I found my seat near the window. With my petite frame, I had ample room in my seat until a huge, bearded man in a business suit took the middle seat, his large frame spilling into mine. I looked out of my window trying not to hyperventilate or show any sign of panic. The fact was, I was panicking! I was shaking uncontrollably, and tears ran persistently down my cheeks. I did not trust the airplane would take off and I was convinced I was about to die. I was stuffed into a seat next to a huge gorilla of a man and I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs. I stared out of the window trying to focus on breathing. The man must have noticed me because he started talking to me in reassuring tones. His voice was a deep baritone but there was no anger in it at all. He was trying to comfort me and got me a glass of water from the flight attendants. He kept on talking to me but I couldn’t turn my face to look at him. The fact that he was nice to me made me cry even more. Then suddenly I felt a massive lift under the floor. The plane was airborne! The man laughed “See, just like riding a bus, except in the clouds”. I let out a huge snort of relief and my nose decided to erupt messily at that moment in a very non-ladylike way. I had done it! I laughed and cried at the same time. Something deep shifted within me at that moment. I felt a peace that I had never felt before. I was free! The plane felt like a prison and the people who were with me were my new safety. I was safe!

Once I got to my tiny studio apartment, I locked and bolted the front door and sank onto the floor still holding my suitcase. I closed my eyes and just sobbed. It was relief washing over me and I don’t know how long I sat there but it was getting dark when I looked up. I took in my new surroundings. There were no cameras watching me. It was just one small room with a small kitchen counter in one corner and a door leading to what I assumed must be a bathroom. It was clean and mine for as long as I paid the rent.  I was settled in a new safe environment, and no one knew where I was. Reality started to kick in as my senses went into overdrive. I heard people in the apartments near me but my space was clear. I was alone and I was safe.

Step 3 – Trust someone new

Once settled, how do you carry on without knowing whom to trust and where to go? There is no answer to this question as a survivor simply must try and fail and keep trying. You have to trust that things will work out and go for it.  I knew I found tall men particularly hard to trust, especially ones with big shaggy beards and poor hygiene. I knew not all men were bad, but I was cautious near all men for a very long time after I left my abusers. I didn’t trust anyone! How could I? All my life had been filled with neglect and trauma. I didn’t know how. When I got my first job as a dishwasher and cleaner, my boss was male but for some reason, he didn’t scare me as his physique was different from my abusers. He was short for a man and had a squeaky voice. He was not threatening at all and just wanted the work done each shift.

I learned quickly to trust my own instincts about people.  Most people shocked me with their egotistical ways, always talking about what they wanted. I never once heard any empathy for others and to me it made me wonder more about it. Why don’t people care more about others? To put their trust in others to do the job without having to be checked. I learned a lot by just being in the moment. Watching others and learning from how they were with each other. Most of the time, I learned what I did not want to be like. I didn’t trust anyone at that point.

I made sure my apartment was firmly locked and bolted when I got home each night and sank onto the floor and sobbed with relief. I had survived another day. Living was exhausting! I was on full alert all day, always watching people around me and listening out for any dangers. I had constant nightmares every night. Living without trust is scary and lonely. I was a stranger in a new city. A young girl living alone without visitors. I had no family and no friends and work was full of people who I wouldn’t have chosen to be around if I had known better. At the time, I went with the thought that I had to start somewhere and if I kept at it, things would get better. I let down my guard a bit with a woman I worked with. She had kind eyes and she helped me with the job. I copied her actions and found they were quicker than my efforts.

Step 3 – Trust people you don’t know

As time went and my new life settled into a routine, I started to relax. People started to notice the new blonde girl. I got a smile from a neighbor and the cashier in the food market recognized me. I even got recognized in the park by a dog walker. The people I worked with were okay. Nobody was interested in me or wanted to hurt me. It felt good. The more I saw of the world, the more I wanted from life. I listened to people around me and I learned a lot. When I got a job as a nanny, I had to trust the family to take me in. The family needed me but they didn’t want me there. It was an awkward situation to be in but one I was kind of used to.

I had to trust strangers to help me when I was not working. I spent time in bars to stay out of the rain. A lone young girl in a bar is not a good situation to be in. I knew that even then but I had no choice if I wanted to be warm and dry. The bartenders took pity on me and I had a feeling they kept an eye out on me as I was alone. They never said anything to me but I had a feeling they were looking out for me. I had to be out of the house no matter what the weather did. I had to trust myself not to get drawn into advances and ridicule. I tried to just stay away in a corner minding my own business. I did a lot of people-watching and I listened in on private conversations. I got quite good at it and it was fun. I learned that there was a local pool and it kept me away from the bars and I got to exercise which felt good.

Step 4 – Make friends

I learned to trust more people. No one seemed to take an interest in hurting me. No one knew who I was. If I paid for my drinks, my swimming sessions and my classes, no one cared what I did. It was comforting to know, and I let down my guard and got a few friends. I started to let people into my life and my friends wanted to know me.

Step 5 – Trust Life

Life doesn’t always work out the way you want it to. There will always be a few disappointments along the way. For some people, there are more than for others. When I hit my first huge disappointment, I felt like the world was totally against me. I felt it in my core, and I was ready to give up. I had friends now and I learned from them over time that when things don’t go your way, you have to find a new way. It took me a while, but I found my way. I discovered new opportunities that I would never have had without my friends.

If you are a survivor and you find it difficult to trust other people, then you are not alone. Be assured that you will also find your way in life. I had it in me to start trusting the people near me and to go out and start living again. It is good to be aware of people because not everyone you meet is kind. Most people, however, are not going to hurt you. Trust in your instincts and go out there! There are so many wonderful things waiting for you if you just try. I did and so can you!

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.

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/