The Black Sheep Hath Landed

When we were kids, I would climb trees or run wild with the boys, and Melanie would sit in a corner playing with dollhouses or reading a book. To get her to participate in any game was a herculean task. She disliked playing outdoors, didn’t like to socialize or attend birthday bashes, and kept to herself… The consequence of being kids from a dysfunctional family created two extreme personalities. I guess that’s how psychology works: in the absence of love and attention, you either withdraw into a shell or go out and seek it with a vengeance.

Poor Mel bore the brunt of my unpredictable personality. I drove her crazy by demanding attention, fighting, and bickering to get what I wanted ad hominem.

Full-Blown ADHD: Summer Days Drifting Away

One summer, I found myself bored and without company. All the neighbors were off for the holidays. But my 8-year-old mind wanted excitement, so I decided I wanted Mel to play with me. She refused even as she sat reading a book beneath the shade of a gooseberry tree, too busy to comply. I strode over, irate that she thwarted my plans. Above her head, nestled in the branches of the tree, hung a beehive, buzzing with activity; an evil, impish grin took over my face. I picked up a stone, threw it at the conclave of humming insects, and ran for my life. A clueless Melanie remained seated when, all of a sudden, piercing stings rained on her body from every direction. She ran, yelling and screaming, while I stood there, hands on hips, wondering if she would be ready to play now. Needless to say, Granny thrashed me, and that got me sobered up really fast.

My ADHD was definitely in full swing. Being precocious and hyperactive, I devised every possible prank and scheme to get my way. I was spirited and stubborn, a combination that was exhilarating for me but challenging for the adults trying to supervise me. My mother was busy dating and paid little attention to us, which allowed me to run wild and create chaos. I would kick, scream, and plot to get what I wanted. My grandmother would sit me down and warn me, but a brat wants what a brat wants. Mel endured my endless tantrums and fights without complaint. Eventually, when I turned 11, I had to grow up, as that was when my mother left us to get married, and her priorities changed.

Grandma: My Parent, Teacher, and Best Friend

After a year at boarding school, my mom, who often delayed fee payments, moved us to Uncle Lionel’s house. Grandma lived with us, too. After Grandpa passed away, she primarily stayed with Melanie and me because she wanted to look after us. She was the only one who genuinely cared about our well-being and taught me important values that I cherish. But we had our share of fights. I was a tough kid to raise—mischievous and pigheaded. Grandma would raise the cane, and I’d challenge her to “thrash me.” A few minutes later, we’d either be laughing or I’d be sulking, and she’d come to comfort me. Sometimes, I regret making her cry with all my antics, but beyond that, we were blood… Though she was my grandmother, she was the only real mother figure I ever knew. Our bond was incredibly precious.

Today, she is no longer with us, and I feel her absence deeply. I cherish the memories of walking to college with my sister; that journey took us an hour and was filled with laughter and dreams. Our grandmother, with her caring nature, always made sure we had a hearty breakfast before sending us off. Mostly, we would scrounge for pocket change to buy shampoo sachets, a small treat that felt like a luxury. On festive occasions, Grandma would lovingly stitch dresses for us. The fact is, she was one of the few people who understood that trauma lay beneath my hyperactive ADHD traits.

Phobias and Mischief

I vividly recall my tomboy phase, a time filled with adventure and mischief. I would climb trees, play with boys, and raise hell. My greatest joy came from racing across the fields with my neighbors and playing games like hide-and-seek and seven stones. I was also friends with Melanie’s classmates, who were the older boys.

A drawback of my childhood was my intense dislike of lizards. I have carried this phobia with me ever since. Being Indian means living with the many varieties we see here. My friend Donna aptly calls them “flycatchers.” I remember being afraid of the lizards darting around in Grandma’s garden. The chameleons especially revolted me, and boys, as usual, zeroed in on my phobia. Whenever they had a chance, I was chased with plastic lizards, live ones, and every color of lizard in between. Being the hellraiser I was, I always got my revenge one way or the other. “Don’t mess with me” was my motto.

 Also, these reptiles remind me of other dark moments, like being locked out of my home in the dark of night as a form of punishment for my hare-brained schemes. It was traumatizing for me, like many other such incidents, but I took it, and I suppose it toughened me. You might say chameleons are symbolic of how one can also adapt to a situation and protect oneself.

Quirky and Quirkier Friends

Since I was a social oddity, my friends tended to be like me. Damien was one such friend and Melanie’s classmate. He had an impish smile and a bag full of tricks. He was forever into tomfoolery and loved making wagers. During my teen years, I dared him to shave off his mustache. Sure enough, the next day, he showed up bright and early, completely clean-shaven. Everyone thought it was funny, but not Damien.

Over the years, I noticed that my choice of friends was different. I preferred buddies based on their character and kindness, not their popularity. They were unique, both male and female, and I usually had nicknames for them. I had this friend Sandra, whom I named Jack, and she called me Mike because I liked Michael Jackson.

 I still don’t mind being an oddball; I’ve always said normal is boring.

Summing up: What Children Believe, They Become

Yes, childhood trauma can increase the risk of ADHD symptoms.  Kids with ADHD especially need special care, including cognitive behavioral therapy and a strong support system both at home and in school. More importantly, engaging in activities that keep their curious minds busy can significantly help with impulse control. Don’t blame a child with ADHD; they are still learning how to regulate their emotions. Recovery from ADHD is a journey that takes time and patience. The CPTSD Foundation offers Daily Recovery Support and a Trauma-informed weekly newsletter for individuals healing from complex trauma.

In the end, remember this: family, friends, and love are all that truly matter. Let go of all hatred and set yourself free. If someone has hurt you, forgive them and embrace love, because love conquers all.

Photo by Roberto Nickson on Unsplash

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.

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/

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

An Existential Identity Crisis

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

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

Becoming a Social Outcast

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

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

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

The Birth of the Fear of Abandonment

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

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

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

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

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

Walking Away From Abuse

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

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

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

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

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

Rising from the Ashes

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

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

Final Thoughts: Know Thyself and Thou Shall Know Thy God

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

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

Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash

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/

I was finally old enough to go to school and get away from my mother’s screaming, beatings, and sexual abuse. My older brother and I smiled together as we got on the school bus that day. We were both glad to be getting away.

First grade was the first time in my life I felt understood. I loved everything about school. The snacks, the smell of mimeographed worksheets, learning how to read and write, the playground, and most of all, I loved my teacher, Mrs. King. She was one of the first adults who ever loved me back. It was a glorious year. And then…it came to an end.

I overheard my parents talking. “I can’t stand the other second-grade teachers,” my mother growled. I knew my mother was ramping up for a full-on tirade. She happened to be a second-grade teacher at the school where my brother and I attended. I flattened myself against the wall and continued to eavesdrop. 

“I mean it,” my mother continued. “None of them is any good. I’m not going to have it. I’m just not going to have it. That child isn’t going to learn a thing.” Over and over she went.

“Oh, for God’s sake, what do you want?” My father snarled using his usual tactic of intimidation. This was the constant dynamic in my family. My mother would screech and scream their complaint, finally wearing my father down. He would explode and either give her what she wanted or detonate in a rage causing a blanket of silence to fall over the house for several days. He was capitulating early this time. I was surprised.

“I’m going to put her in my classroom next year.” my mother gloated.

My blood turned to ice. All my mother ever dreamed had finally come true. She must have found out how happy I was with Mrs. King. Hated at home, and she was going to see to it that I was hated at school as well. 

Second grade passed in a blur. There was nowhere to turn for help. My mother perched herself upon a wooden teacher’s throne, exuding power and total control. Now, not only could she beat me at home, she could beat me all day long at school. And this time, she had an audience of twenty pairs of eyes to witness my shame. The principal had no idea what was going on. Besides, she was my mother, she could do whatever she wanted, and she took the opportunity to focus special attention on me. 

She made sure the classroom knew how stupid I was. I did bad work. I had bad handwriting. I couldn’t behave. I was wicked, dumb, and lazy. In fact, on all counts, I was the worst kid in the classroom. I was trash. Worse than trash. I did not deserve to live. All the terrible things my mother did to me during the years I was under her thumb at home happened all day long at school. 

Suddenly, my worksheets became indecipherable, confusing symbols. I could not understand the simplest directions or make sense of the math problems. Reading became difficult and nothing, nothing would ever be the same. The joy I felt with Mrs. King faded away never to return. I lay my head on my desk in defeat. My mother won. No matter what I did, my mother was always going to come out on top. For the rest of my academic career throughout high school, I was a strong D student. I graduated—just barely.

Let’s take a step back and ponder the pattern occurring in this story from my childhood. Look at the absolute genius of my mother. It is a perfect example of covert abuse. Placing me in the role of scapegoat, she was able to create and justify all of my shortcomings and thus, her abuse. And she did it in a public way without any reasonable adult the wiser. In fact, because no one ever intervened, in my childish mind, I was sure everything she said about me was true. I had no other experience to measure her lies and abuse against.

Roles in family systems follow a pattern. When you see the pattern emerge, you are able to bring understanding and change.  I’d like to answer two questions regarding patterns. How do abusers do it? And why do abusers do it?

How Abusers Commit Covert Abuse

The how. Dysfunctional and narcissistic parents divide and conquer by placing family members into different roles. In my family, my father was the head narcissist and the only person allowed to show anger. My mother was borderline histrionic and mentally ill. Both enabled each others’ behavior. Both focused their main attack on my older brother and I. My father set himself up as the “good” parent but in truth, he was the puppeteer. My mother was designated as the problem and the family orbited around this narrative. 

The following are just some of the usual roles found in abusive family systems. They can overlap and apply to children as well as adults. This is just a general guideline.

The Scapegoat– The child placed in the role of scapegoat, as seen in the story above, is chosen to carry the toxic feelings and emotions of the parent. It is a way to distract from or take responsibility for, their own problems and behaviors. It empowers the narcissistic parent and gives them the control and the narcissistic supply which they so crave.

The Caretaker– Also known as the enabler or martyr, the caretaker tries to keep everybody happy. Constantly picking up the pieces, the caretaker child (and sometimes the adult) stands in the way of the dysfunctional family ever facing the truth or the adults ever taking responsibility for their actions.

The Hero- To the untrained eye, the hero looks well-balanced and successful. Seeking to be perfect and to gain high achievement, the hero seeks to calm the dysfunction within the family. To outsiders, the hero confirms the idea that all is well.

The Mascot– The mascot serves as a sort of joker in the family. Using humor to distract from dysfunction, the mascot performs and tries to please and diffuse the situation before the parents have a blow-up or things get out of control.

The Lost Child – In this role, an attempt is made to disappear. By fading into the background, this child tries to find safety by hiding. Parents use both the hero role and the lost child as proof of how wonderful the family is doing. The lost child never causes any trouble.

The Golden Child– Similar to the hero, the golden child is chosen to carry all the positive traits of the family. Especially seen within narcissistic systems, the golden child can do no wrong, but love is always given conditionally and the role is not as positive as one might think. It is filled with fear and anxiety. Never being seen for who they really are, which is the case for all these roles, this behavior destroys a child’s sense of self, their emotional life, and the way they see themselves in the world. It has life-altering consequences. 

Why Parents Abuse Their Children

The why. This is one of the hardest questions a survivor of chronic childhood trauma will ever try to answer. Why would a parent treat their own child this way? The simple answer? People resort to abusive behavior in order to avoid dealing with their own emotional turmoil. And it does not stop when the child grows up. Abusers continue to demand adult children continue in the same broken patterns using blackmail and manipulation to ensure that they do. Oftentimes, the only way to stop the abuse and begin to heal is to leave the system altogether and cut off all contact.

Coming to a place where your heart’s belief embraces the truth is a life-long journey. It is the very essence of what it means to defy trauma. You had nothing to do with the family problems and you have no power to fix them. The only power you have is over yourself. The only change you can affect is to change the present—to heal, and to embrace joy for yourself. Come with me on this journey about relationships as we break the patterns of the past and finally find the way to who we were truly meant to be. Defy trauma, and embrace joy.

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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 do not necessarily reflect those of CPTSD Foundation. For more information, see our Privacy Policy and Full Disclaimer.

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.

My name is Elizabeth and I am a survivor of sexual childhood abuse and unspeakable trauma. Before I tell you my story, I want you to know that no matter how bad your life is, there is always hope. I lived in the darkness for a long time during my most vulnerable childhood years. I know how hard it can be just to exist. I almost gave up living many times but even in my darkest despair, I somehow found it within me to carry on breathing.

I survived and so can you. You are a lot stronger than you think.

I grew up unwanted, right from the start. An innocent baby girl born to the wrong parents. I was born into a world of brutal sex offenders, murderers, and inconceivably neglectful adults. As a very young girl, I got caught up in a secret sex ring where my so-called father was in charge and loaned me out to vicious sexual predators for their enjoyment. I suffered sexual abuse throughout my entire childhood and I desperately tried to seek help from the adults around me. They chose to sit by and watch me suffer and ignore my cries for help, even my schoolteachers, doctors, and psychiatrists! I was forced to witness several violent sex murders in front of my eyes. All of them happened right next to me whilst I was being raped or restrained. These will forever haunt me and I believed I was next. That fear made me start planning my escape.

My fear of being murdered propelled me throughout my childhood. I had to use different coping strategies to survive in any way I could. I survived in an environment where most kids would not. I lived so that I can tell my story and I am hoping that the world will change. No child should ever have to suffer sexual abuse or any kind of trauma. As part of my healing, I wrote about my life in my book: The Sex-Offender’s Daughter: A True Story of Survival Against All Odds available on amazon.com

In my book, I tell my childhood story as I desperately battle to survive in the worst possible environment. Sexual abuse must stop and those responsible should be accountable for their actions. No one should have to suffer child abuse. It helped me to know that I was not alone and that is why I wanted people to know my story.

My plan to escape did eventually come true but I had to wait until I was 18. I knew that for me to survive, I had to leave everyone behind me and take a big leap, and hope that everything would work out. That meant cutting all ties from everything and everyone I had ever known. It was not an easy path to get to where I wanted to be but I was strong, determined, and stubborn. I kept overcoming every obstacle and person in my way and I pushed and kept going until I could start my own life. I was determined to break free because I wanted a life as my friends had with their parents. A life filled with love and happiness. I craved it like air in my lungs. I deserved to live my life, the way I wanted to live it. You can do this too!

Once I did break free, I was completely alone and I had no money. I had to get a job to support myself. It is easier said than done when you arrive in a foreign country and have no work experience. I was lucky and I found work but it was like being tortured, to begin with. I was hated and treated like a slave. I washed dishes, mopped floors, and cleaned bathrooms for a while. I stuck with it because going back was not an option. I managed to save my tiny salary and put myself through college night school and then I got myself into university. After I got my degree, I went from strength to strength. I opened doors, I never knew possible just a few years previously. My world had been closed to me but now suddenly, it was wide open! It was an incredible feeling!

I now live in a happy home with my husband and children. I am surrounded by friends and I have a job that I love. I settled far away from where I grew up. I will never completely heal from my past but I have a bright future surrounded by love as it should be. I treasure my life because I had to fight for it. I am who I chose to be. Every day is a gift and I go where I belong.

If you are fighting, take each day as it comes, and remember your life matters. You matter! The world is waiting for you to open those doors. Go ahead! If I could do it, so can you!

Sometimes I stop and listen to my breathing

My beating heart is a wonderful feeling

Hearing the wind blowing the leaves in the trees

the waves cascading in the sea breeze

feeling the sand underneath my feet

seeing the land and the ocean meet

smelling a meadow of wonderful flowers

I feel rich and alive in the sun’s power

The simple joy of someone’s laughter

In our beautiful world for us to look after.

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/

If you grow up in a loving family, you meet family friends and you build friendships like a wide net around you. It’s a bit like a spider’s web of networks all around you, supporting you. The more you socialize, the better you become at it. As an abused child, communication and socializing do not happen as it does in a loving and supporting environment. Most often there is no communication at all or it is manipulative and one-sided. A relationship based on threats and fear can never blossom into a good relationship. Therefore, as a victim of abuse, you have no net, no spider’s web of amazing network friends who can help you as you are ready to take that first leap into society. That leap is scary for anyone but as a victim of abuse, it is like leaping into a black hole. You have no idea what is coming next but you put yourself on the line because it can never be as bad as where you have been.

A Fresh Start

I had to start all over again when I took my leap, and I was absolutely terrified. I got a passport to prove my identity, in secret and I had saved up money to buy a plane ticket as far away as possible. I wanted to get as far away as possible from my family so they could never hurt me again. I felt like I was completely alone, which in fact – I was! It felt like I had to take on the whole world one step at a time. I trusted no one and I was ready to sleep rough if I had to. First, I had to learn social cues and how to talk and be around people after I had cut ties with my family. I had done my research over the years and learned to ask my way forwards to where I wanted to be. It was not easy and I practiced in front of the mirror a lot. I knew where to go and get a job to make enough money for a studio apartment. I also knew that the apartment would be located in one of the worst places to live in the city, but I had no possessions other than a few old clothes, my notebooks, and my guitar. I didn’t really care where I was, I was away from THEM. When I closed my own front door that first day, I closed my eyes and sank down onto the floor, and sobbed. Relief and terror are all catching up with me. I had made it somehow. I was free and I had a job as a dishwasher/cleaner in a restaurant. Things were looking up.

I did my best to wash and clean whilst I was constantly on edge. My colleagues were teasing me as the new girl. It was just harmless banter from young adults my own age, but I didn’t respond the way the others did to the jokes. I was jumpy and soon became “weird”. One of the lads touched my shoulder once. It was harmless but I screamed so loud the whole room went deathly quiet. He had startled me. I was constantly exhausted those first few weeks, overlooking my shoulders for danger. I wasn’t used to working hard labour and I was fully alert for anything and everything. I had no idea then that I was suffering from Complex PTSD. I was having nightmares most nights, but my dreams were so full of terror they didn’t make sense. I was worried my abusers would find me and drag me back to my old life.

My stay in the apartment was short-lived because I just couldn’t make the rent. My meager savings ran out and as a dishwasher, I had miscalculated the rent and bills even for the hovel studio I got to call home. I was lucky and fell into an ad agency looking for live-in nannies. I relished the opportunity because by the end of that week I would be homeless. I was hired and suddenly I had upgraded my hovel for a room in a huge house in the suburbs. I thought I had struck gold!

As the reality of my zip code kept dazzling my brain that I was safe and in the perfect family home, I slowly started to fall back to earth. My landing was hard and painful. I was a nanny to the snobbiest, spoilt little rascals who abused me with endless teasing using their parents to make my life into a new nightmare. The parents hated me and felt threatened by me. ME!? Why on earth would anyone be threatened by me? I wouldn’t hurt anyone! The family asked me to clean their house as well as all their washing and childcare. This included the parents washing and sheets. My job was as a nanny but I ended up being a slave. The family had the heating turned off in my room so I ended up sleeping in full clothing and a hat and gloves when it was winter. My hands and lips were blue as I shivered in the cold. My room was on the end of a wing and had two outside windows, so I felt the cold all right. On top of that, the family chose to not heat the house and only heated the main room where they all spent their evenings. I was not invited. I was the help. Nothing more and once my “duties” has been done, I was expected to leave the house. I lived there! They wanted me gone because the parents thought I was listening to their conversation. They were important figures in society and my presence was not welcome. The family refused to give me their spare car and so I had no option but to walk to wherever, every single night. My trust in other human beings was at that point on an all-time “rock bottom”. I was cold and wet pacing the streets and avoiding being arrested in the winter. In the summer I could hide in the parks for hours and write. You probably wonder why I didn’t leave. I guess the answer is that as bad as it was, I had somewhere to go to call “home”. The kids were horrible because all their previous nannies had left and until I had stayed with them a while, they wouldn’t trust me. I stayed because I felt I couldn’t sink any lower or do better. Until I came up with a plan, I would put on my smile, get up each day and be the best nanny I could be. The house was beautiful, the shower was a new power shower, and no one timed me in the bathroom. The family allowed me to bake and I got the kids to help me. It opened up a bond with them and slowly they began to trust me. I played my guitar with them and got them to sing and practice for their school play.

As a thank, you, the mother in the family helped me to sign up for college night classes in the city. It was a college with a great reputation and I couldn’t believe my luck. I discovered I could get a train into the city. My classes got me out of the house for longer, giving the family their privacy, they wanted. My first class was hard because I was too nervous to join in. I found it difficult to speak other than my name. As those first few weeks went by, I found that I was more than capable to do the work. In fact, it was too easy, so I got bumped up to the advanced class. After a few months, I was teaching that class on my own. In those months, I learned how to communicate with people. I still had my “spidey sense” about people. Somehow, I knew straight away if I was going to be able to trust them eventually or if they would hurt me. The little hairs at the back of my neck would never lie as they stood to full alert if I felt something was off. I learned that all of society is not bad and out to hurt you. Most people have no idea what you have been through as a survivor. It is not written on my forehead in invisible ink. I never had a tattoo that said worthless and stupid like I believed, ignoring my common sense. I was the right age for a college student, and I made new friends who were my own age. My little friend network was starting to form.

My friends realised I had lived a hard life and they helped me buy clothes that fit me and were trendy. They helped me open a bank account for my hard-earned cash and I was able to get a volunteer job on the side which turned into paid work. After 18 months I had opened enough doors to manage my own life so I left the family and I could stand on my own two feet. I rented a room from a little old lady who just wanted company after her husband had died.

How did you manage that first year away from your abusive family? Who did you turn to? Where did you go? Life does carry on. It is one of the hardest things you will do but if you are like me, you have no other option. There are many of us out there, still surviving after abuse. You can do it too. Hang in there!

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/

Disclaimer: Partners in Men’s Health and Tar Tales — Change for Children.

No one goes into a relationship wanting a partner who is mean, manipulative, and controlling. In most cases, the partner seems fine in the begging. They may be rough around the edges, but the good sometimes outweighs the bad.

Then, their true selves begin to show. They become plain insufferable! You’re soon in a relationship with someone for a long time, and ending things is just hard.

While you can’t always see the real face of your partner until a long time has passed, there could be subtle red flags early in the relationship that may indicate that they are not relationship material. You should reconsider whether or not you want to devote your life to them. Here are some red flags to look out for. Seeking professional help from an online therapist (PMH)can be effective in talking you through red flags in a relationship.

You Must Justify Their Bad Behavior

Your relationship shouldn’t consist of writing apologies for your partner. Sometimes, there is a reason for the undesired behavior, but often you are trying to take something inexcusable and use mental gymnastics to excuse it. If you find yourself doing this, it is a red flag.

Your Family And Friends Don’t Like Them!

The cliché of the overly critical parent has made some people brush off any criticisms family members may have of their partner. Still, sometimes, they might be onto something. If you generally respect the opinions of your family or friends, it’s worth examining how likely it is that they’re completely wrong about disliking your significant other.

This isn’t to say that you should break up with your partner just because your parent or friend doesn’t like your partner. However, you should listen to their words and try to look at them objectively, as your family and friends could be hinting at smaller yellow flags that could become one major red flag down the line if you ignore them.

They Don’t Want To Take Responsibility

No one has their life fully together, especially if the two of you are young. If your partner is in a bad situation, such as not having a job, it doesn’t mean they are not worthy of having a romantic relationship with you. However, if they are always making every excuse under the sun as to why they haven’t had a job yet or won’t change another problem they have, they may not be worth dating and could be a deal breaker. You’re in a relationship, not babysitting. A lack of accountability is always a relationship red flag!

They Just Can’t Apologize

One of the cornerstones of a good relationship is apologizing and compromising. Couples will get into fights or be wrong about things, and apologizing is a great way to hold accountability and help repair the problems you will inevitably face.

However, if your partner won’t ever admit they were wrong or apologize for something they blatantly did, then this may be a sign of a bad relationship. Some people have a hard time admitting fault, which can make your relationship’s future more complicated.

How can the two of you grow if one refuses to admit their flaws?

What To Do When You Experience These Red Flags?

We are all flawed people, and your partner will likely have some flaws or traits you don’t like. If you experience a few red flags, it may not necessarily be a reason for you to cut ties just yet. They may not be aware of their behavior, and what you perceive as a red flag could be an honest mistake and not deliberate. If they’re willing to make a change, they will spend time listening and trying to improve their behavior. If they get aggressive and attend therapy just to break up then maybe it’s time to end the relationship and try to find someone who does want to grow with you.

1. Know Your Boundaries

Trust your gut if you think you’re in an emotionally (verbal or psychological) abusive relationship. Know when it’s time for your partnership to end. Certain circumstances are intolerable, and a deal breaker and these relationship red flags are one of them.

2. Watch Out For Manipulation

Some people want to manipulate you. Overtly verbal or emotional abuse is wrong. You could be spending energy trying to fix something that will stay broken. Some people don’t give others respect, and that’s an issue and one of the most common red flags in a relationship.

Sometimes manipulation might not appear negative on the surface, however. Love bombing is a common strategy used in unhealthy relationships by manipulative and abusive partners, too.

You need to focus on your mental health, and a person who negatively wields power over you is not healthy. Unfortunately, some people are out to hurt others. You can find someone who treats you well and doesn’t have anger management issues or manipulate your feelings for their gain. If you’ve told someone multiple times to stop doing the behavior and they don’t listen to your boundary, that’s a problem. It can even involve silent treatment! A manipulative person lacks integrity, and they might not even realize what they’re doing to you, but their excuses do not justify behavior that makes you feel bad about yourself.

Speak Up!

It can be difficult to speak up when you feel unheard. Some people are focused on their voices and forget to listen to others. If you’re in a relationship where your partner isn’t listening and lacks self-awareness, it’s okay to point out that you have things to say. If you advocate for yourself, you will probably feel more empowered. It can contribute to your personal growth. If you find that your partner brushes you off every time you stand up for yourself, that’s a red flag that something isn’t right. It’s crucial to speak up for yourself.

Everybody has a story to share. That is why we created the TAR Tales website, where you can share your experiences with the rest of our community and help us raise awareness of the victims of domestic abuse. We invite you to speak up and share your survival and recovery stories. Why? Because it is beneficial for your healing and will become the foundation of international public health, educational, and awareness campaign.

Sharing stories is the only way we can connect as humans.

Learning more about someone and their story enables us to understand them on a different level and form a deeper connection. For those of you who are struggling to open up, remember:

Safety is not the absence of the threat, but the presence of connection.

Guilt Isn’t a Reason to Stay.

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.

Milena "Mila" Stankovic

Milena “Mila” Stankovic is a Co-Founder at STAR Network, TAR Anon and Partners In Mens Health. Milena “Mila” Stankovic is a mental health advocate & ambassador , screenwriter, writer and creator. She covers clinical and experience-based standpoints on topics such as Toxic Abusive Relationships, trauma, CPTSD, Toxic Families,  Parental Alienation, and Narcissism. Mila provides practical, vulnerable, and real-life examples to help those who have been abused to overcome their fears. She will help you heal: one article at a time. She is also a Please check the organizations which are still under development here:

https://partnersinmenshealth.com/
https://tartales.org
https://starnetwork.org
https://taranon.org
If you wish to write and share your stories and get in touch with Mila, please contact her at mila@starnetwork.org

medium.com/@milena-koljensic

Credit: Karla Ruiz

What is Betrayal Trauma?

• How do you begin to heal when you discover that your partner has been unfaithful?
• How do you learn to trust again when a family member has betrayed you?
• How do you move forward when your boss abused their position of power and sexually harassed you?

In the wake of a betrayal, many people feel their world has been shattered. Some are left wondering whether they even have a future at all. Betrayal and the ensuing sense of despondence can leave victims with chronic distrust problems and crippling self-doubt. Being betrayed by a trusted person can have a long-lasting impact on physical and mental well-being and compromises the ability to form lasting relationships with others.

In her article ‘Understanding Complex Trauma, Complex Reactions, and Treatment Approaches’  Dr. Christine Courtois highlights the interconnectedness of betrayal trauma and Complex Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (CPTSD), stating that “complex trauma generally refers to traumatic stressors that are interpersonal, that is, they are premeditated, planned, and caused by other humans, such as violating and/or exploitation of another person” (Courtois, 2019). Betrayal causes immense emotional pain and has far-reaching physical and psychological consequences, which are not easily overcome in a day, a week, a month, or even a year. Some people never get over the impact of betrayal. Healing from betrayal requires intense reflection and work on personal growth to rebuild a sense of worthiness, self-confidence, and belonging. Learning to trust others is one of the most difficult hurdles to overcome. Recovery from betrayal is isolating and painfully difficult and often leads to a transformation of the self.

Types of Betrayal

The most common types of betrayal include the disclosing of confidential information, disloyalty, infidelity, and dishonesty. At the least, betrayal causes shock, loss, anger, and grief; at worst, it can cause anxiety disorders and PTSD (Rachman, 2010).

Examples of betrayal:

• Discovering that your husband/wife/partner had a physical, emotional or online affair.
• Finding out that your husband/wife/partner has engaged in addictive behaviour, e.g. drug-taking, gambling, porn.
• Experiencing sexual, physical and emotional abuse at the hands of a family member or by a key relationship.
• Discovering that your friend told someone a secret that you entrusted them with.
• Finding out that your co-worker used your work as their own to elevate their status.
• When your family justifies your partner’s abusive behaviour.
• When a boss abuses their position of power and takes advantage of you.
• Failure to offer or provide support and assistance during times of physical or emotional need.

Types of Betrayal Trauma

• Institutional
• Parental
• Partner
• Interpersonal, e.g. friends.

Additionally, any of these types of betrayal trauma may be accompanied by ‘betrayal blindness’,  an unawareness or forgetting of the act of betrayal. (Freyd, 1999).  This adaptive response may be associated with betrayals not traditionally recognised as trauma, such as adultery, inequities in the workplace and society, etc. Victims may unwittingly manifest symptoms of betrayal blindness to preserve the relationships and social systems upon which they depend. (Freyd, 2021). 

Symptoms of Betrayal Trauma 

• Chronic mistrust
• Commitment issues
• Flashbacks
• Nightmares
• Hopelessness
• Dissociation
• OCD
• Emotional dysregulation
• Confusion & self-doubt
• Panic, anxiety & depression
• Irritability and rage
• Fear
• Toxic shame and guilt
• Low self-esteem
• Loss of confidence & self-worth
• Extreme exhaustion
• Withdrawal from social interactions
• Difficulty maintaining relationships

Childhood trauma and the associated betrayal can elicit symptoms that continue through adulthood and often prevent the formation of deep, intimate relationships due to past experiences. The severity of betrayal trauma is complex because it concerns not only the experience of the act of abuse but also the experience of being betrayed by a trusted person or someone the victim relies on for support and survival. Symptoms of betrayal trauma do not meet the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders 5 (DSM-5) diagnostic criteria for PTSD. However, symptoms of betrayal trauma are closely related to those of CPTSD which occurs as a result of abuse and ongoing trauma. (Diagnostic and statistical manual of mental disorders: DSM-5-TR 2022)

Feelings and effects of betrayal such as degradation, rejection, and humiliation can be catastrophic and life-changing. Betrayal on any level causes immense emotional pain and can be incredibly isolating, but with professional help, therapy, and support, many trauma victims go on to live fulfilling lives. Trauma-informed therapy, such as that offered by the C-PTSD Foundation, helps individuals move forward in their personal and professional lives with ongoing support that promotes healing and recovery. Some individuals with extensive trauma histories may remain in therapy for years; however, recovery is possible with a trauma-informed approach and lots of determination and support.

References

• Courtois, C. A. (2019). Understanding Complex Trauma, Complex Reactions, and Treatment Approaches. Understanding complex trauma, complex reactions, and treatment approaches – Gift From Within. Retrieved from
• American Psychiatric Association. (2022). Diagnostic and statistical manual of mental disorders: Dsm-5-Tr. 
• Freyd, J. J. (1999, June). Blind to Betrayal: New Perspectives on Memory for Trauma. Retrieved from https://dynamic.uoregon.edu/jjf/articles/freyd99.pdf
• Freyd, J. J. (2021). What is a Betrayal Trauma? What is Betrayal Trauma Theory? Definition of Betrayal Trauma Theory. Retrieved from https://dynamic.uoregon.edu/jjf/defineBT.html
• Rachman, S. (2010). Betrayal: A psychological analysis. Behaviour Research and Therapy, 48(4), 304–311. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.brat.2009.12.002

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.

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.

Triggers Are Real

Triggers are serious and should not be laughed at or minimized.

Some minor word or minor action versus my strong response is not always easy to explain to others.  

They did not live through what I lived through.

I live with triggers in my brain.  

As a layperson, I am going to explain some of the brain science of triggers.  I use common non-traumatic experiences to explain neuropathways and triggers.  My hope is others may use these same examples to help people who don’t have triggers to better understand what we live with.  I hope this article is easier to read with few traumatic references. 

(Content warning: minimal mention of a car accident, snake, physical abuse, anger/rage, and alcohol, with no details of any of the events.)

Neuropathways

To learn to do something new, one must “Practice, Practice, Practice.”  Repetition builds a specific pathway in the brain to do a specific task.  Neuroscientists call these specific pathways in the brain neural pathways or neuropathways.  (I am not a neuroscientist.  More information about neuropathways is on the internet.  I am writing about neuropathways as a layperson and the neural, axial, and synapses details are not important to understanding this article.)

As a child, memorizing the alphabet song created a pathway in my brain.  If someone says, “Sing A, B, C,” I immediately hear that song in my head and I will automatically prepare my vocal cords to start to sing “A, B, C, D, (pause) E, F, G…”  Memorizing the alphabet song created a neuropathway in my brain that will last all of my life.  This specific neuropathway is still there and is easily activated, with one word and four letters.  Probably, “Sing A, B” is enough to activate this specific neuropathway.

A neuropathway can go to and activate different parts of the brain.  A neuropathway can activate learned instructions of how to do something, memories, or both.   These instructions can start to send messages to other parts of my body.  From “Sing A, B…” I immediately activated nerves, muscles, and my vocal cords getting ready to sing.  

Ask me to show how to tie my shoes; I will start to move my arms, hands, fingers, and body before I am even consciously thinking about how to demonstrate shoe tying.  The brain and body are very interconnected. 

If at age 20, I learned a new alphabet song, this would create a new neuropathway for this new alphabet song.  I practice, practice, practice this new alphabet song with a child.  We perform this new alphabet song in their kindergarten class.  A year passes, and someone says, “Sing A, B, C, D.”  Most likely, the alphabet song I learned as a child will be the first song I think of, the first neuropathway that is activated.  

This is the power of a strong, well-established and first learned neuropathway.  Plus, the strength of the primary neuropathway versus later developed neuropathways, to the same activating event.  The new alphabet song is a secondary neuropathway, less substantial, less established, less developed, like a walking path off of a road or an off-ramp or detour, connected to the first neuropathway for the activating event “Sing A, B, C.” 

Neuropathways and Brain Development

These neuropathways in our brain are like roads on the landscape.  The first three minutes of this video created by the Center for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) explains the creation of neuropathways in the brain.  This video has superb graphics with this explanation.  I highly recommend watching the first three minutes of this video: “Preventing Adverse Childhood Experiences (ACEs) Online Training Module 1 Lesson” at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d-SSwYTe8TY  

Here are two important quotes from this video: 

“Our brains develop and change throughout life, enabling us to learn and do new things and to adapt at every age.  But childhood, and early childhood, in particular, is the most sensitive and critical period for brain development. As a child interacts with the world, their experiences, both positive and negative, stimulate the brain, causing it to form neural pathways that lay the foundation for lifelong cognitive and behavioral functioning.” –the narrator

“Our experiences literally shape the way our brain is developing and the brain architecture.”  Jordan Greenbaum, MD

I am going to continue to focus on neuropathway creation and activation.

Intensity can create a strong neuropathway with just one occurrence

“Practice, Practice, Practice” can create a strong neuropathway.  The intensity of an experience can fast-track the creation of a primary neuropathway or link to a memory.  If my favorite song, for 30 years, was playing on the car radio just as I got into a car accident, my favorite song could immediately become something that activates my memories, feelings, or flashback (typical or emotional) of this automobile accident.  Now, I may hate and dread this song from one event.

Neuropathways for Warnings

As a toddler, before I have conscious memories, I learned that “HOT” stated strongly by an older person meant “Don’t Touch! Hurts!”  I expect I was allowed to touch a few semi-hot objects to help me learn this lesson.  

Now, in my fifties, if someone yelled, “HOT” at me, I would automatically stop.  I stop because of a strongly practiced neuropathway in my brain.

Singing the alphabet song never hurt; it may feel a bit silly as an adult.  In childhood, burns hurt and still hurt fifty years later.  I still appreciate a “HOT” warning, if I am about to touch something hot.  Yes, please activate the “HOT” neuropathway for me.

If someone yells, “Snake,” I will stop and look, feeling a bit cautious.  If someone yells snake five different times on a hike and there is never a snake, I will start to doubt that person’s snake warnings.  I am building a new “Snake” response neuropathway specific to this jokester.  This new neuropathway will be a secondary neuropathway to someone yelling “Snake.”  I will still pause for a split second, identify the voice, then I remember this jokester likes to do this and I will relax and continue walking.  After a few times, this secondary neuropathway will also be activated in a split second.

Psychological Traumatic Triggers

Regarding Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome (PTSD) and Complex Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome (CPTSD), “trigger” is used to refer to a word, action, smell, sound, song, visual, or anything that activates a neuropathway, memory, typical flashback or emotional flashback connected to a traumatic event.

During a traumatic event, brain activation, body chemistry, and emotions are incredibly intense, that is why it takes only one experience to create these strong, primary neuropathways. 

The warning “HOT!” was created before I have conscious memories, yet I still know it.  I have feared my father all of my life.  I am certain I had traumatic experiences at his hand, with his angry voice, before I can remember.

Using Brain Science to Heal

I live with CPTSD and I know a lot of my triggers.  I tell a half-joke.  “If someone is somewhat drunk and then shows anger, it is magic.  I disappear!”  I still cannot be around somewhat drunk people who show any amount of anger.  I know this is from my childhood with an angry, alcoholic father.  

When I am triggered, knowing what is happening in my brain helps me to:

• -not blame myself
• -not criticize myself
• -not accept the thought “I’m too sensitive”
• -not accept the thought “I’m a failure.”  

Instead, I try to: 

• -accept that I am this sensitive; because being this sensitive helped me survive in the past
• -take a few deep breaths
• -get to a safe place
• -let myself experience my feelings, without judgment
• -go for a walk
• -take a nap
• -watch TV as a distraction
• -eventually, try to identify what activated this neuropathway.

I am working to build new secondary neuropathways to many of my triggers.  The process is not easy or fast, but it is helping.  

(I don’t identity dissociate or experience typical flashbacks.  I do emotionally dissociate and experience emotional flashbacks.   A list of what to do when triggered will be different for every person, based on what they experience.)

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.

Roger Reynolds

Roger Reynolds

After 25 years in and out of therapy, Roger was finally accurately diagnosed with Complex PTSD in 2014, at 45.  An accurate diagnosis changed his self-help research and treatment plan, which is improving his life.

Hoping to increase understanding of CPTSD from a survivor’s perspective, Roger is starting the YouTube Channel “No Bruises on the Outside”  https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCH6Wt1pchefOSB-IRo2R0hA  Roger’s highest goal is increase CPTSD awareness and understanding so diagnosing is earlier and treatments more on point, leading to less suffering and more comfort in survivors’ lives.

When writing or speaking, Roger works to incorporate science and personal stories to deliver a down to earth, easy to understand presentation.  Roger has been a public speaker and educator for more than 20 years.  Since 2019, he has been speaking about mental health struggles, skills, treatments and his life story.  Behind his family’s public façade of a peaceful dairy farm in southwest Wisconsin, USA, near the Mississippi River, was domestic violence, alcoholism, denied parental mental illness, stalking, death threats and more.

www.youtube.com/channel/UCH6Wt1pchefOSB-IRo2R0hA

No matter how happy and content my life becomes, I will never forget the fear and loneliness of being kicked in the head, punched in the gut or dragged across a room by my hair.  

I Am a Survivor of Domestic Violence

I am a survivor of an abusive ten-year marriage. After a weekend of beatings and beratings that resulted in two chipped teeth, a broken nose, and a concussion, I finally found the courage to leave my abusive husband, obtain a restraining order and an eventual divorce.

That was thirty years ago, so why do I still have nightmares?

Research shows that I am not alone. 

Although most women will absorb the trauma over time, many survivors will experience long-lasting problems.

The American Psychological Association indicates that women are twice as likely to develop PTSD, experience a longer duration of posttraumatic symptoms, and display more sensitivity to stimuli that remind them of the trauma.

Even though physical injuries can be detrimental to a woman, research has proven that emotional injury is more damaging to long-term health. Psychological disorders can make women prone to repeat victimization, which can further impact overall long-term health with more physical injuries, as well as sleeping and eating disorders, social dysfunction, and suicidal behavior. 2

 According to a survey conducted by the Verizon Foundation in 2014:

• 48 percent of abused women will experience depression.
• 70 percent of abused women are more likely to have heart disease. 
• 80 percent of abused women are more likely to experience a stroke.

Some women don’t even know they are being abused. That may sound crazy, but it’s true. Those of us brought up with childhood trauma cannot recognize it as different from what we experienced at home.

According to Psychology Today, “Identifying a pattern of abuse and making a choice can be incredibly difficult. A few of those barriers include financial stress, having nowhere else to go, the threat of violence, and a lack of support from law enforcement. Family and social expectations may also create pressure to stay, especially when children are involved.”

I was in my twenties and thought a bad temper was normal. My dad had one. It wasn’t until I really believed that he would kill me that I decided to flee. My children were the reason. Their love gave me the courage.  It wasn’t until I entered a women’s shelter that I no longer felt shame. The women there understood what I was feeling. They gave me hope.

It doesn’t seem fair. I have been happily remarried for thirty years, and the lingering effects of the cruelty inflicted on me remain embedded in my cells.

NOW— THE DIFFERENCE IS 

I AM THE ONE IN CHARGE!

Triggers pop up unexpectantly; nightmares come and go. I know these are only temporary.
Dealing with the memory triggers has been lifelong for me. Using the tools I have gathered over the years in my toolbox is vital for my mental health:

• Reading something uplifting 
• Yoga
• Journaling
• Meditation
• Walking in nature
• Posting positive affirmations around my house

I promise you that you can go on to live a life filled with peace, safety, love, and respect from a partner.

I pray for strength and hope for anyone that is living with abuse. You matter! You deserve happiness and to live a life free from harm. Free to become yourself!

There is hope. There is help.  

• ~  Resources: Domestic violence hotline

Susan Morris

Susan Frances Morris is the author of The Sensitive One, a memoir dealing with childhood trauma, abuse, health, and healing. She holds a bachelor’s degree in nursing and was a practicing nurse from 1989 to 2011, primarily in Women’s Health. She was raised in Springfield, Massachusetts, the second oldest of seven siblings with two sets of twins.  http://susanfrancesmorris.com

susanfrancesmorris.com

You can and are capable of being a person of goodness, bravery, honesty, and authenticity; no matter what has happened, no matter what you have or don’t.  You can and are capable of pursuing, learning, obtaining, and achieving anything you choose. And you can face each loss, fear, goal, dream, purpose, growth, and change with empowerment with your own mind and heart.  These are my words said with conviction.

Today I am 41 years old and have experienced the deaths of 14 people in my life, 12 of which occurred after 32 years of abuse and beginning with my brother’s passing, two months after I got sober.

Each death was sudden; from 8 hours to 5 months; from murder to COVID-19.  Like what most of us assume we’d be granted; I wasn’t allowed presumptuous time to spend with each; to say and do everything I probably would’ve had any of them died from the naturalness of old age.  Yet I remained sober experiencing it alone because my childhood friends were not supportive of me and I was already estranged from most of my family for the following reasons.

I grew up in an abusive home; blood, bruises, broken skin, topped with verbal and emotional abuse inflicted by both parents.  It was often my mom said how stupid I was while she knocked on my head or a worthless, piece of shit human I was.  Particularly harmful was that I was too repulsive to look at because I had my dad’s blood in me.

However being a God-believer, not in the religious sense but simply a higher power, I know God made me a spiritual warrior.  I say this because what I have overcome almost seemed insurmountable.  Had it been up to me, a typical human, my spirit could’ve stagnated inside a living corpse and my soul might’ve wandered Earth seeking a different body to possess to escape what’s happening within.  Or perhaps I could’ve allowed my addictions to bury me alive.

While yearning for any kind of peace and witnessing the ‘crazy’ that people do to each other, our planet, and our animals, I wondered “Does peace exist?  If so, where does peace begin?”

After I worked through the anger, entitlement, and victimization issues, I came to a place of more inner peace and realized there is a bigger picture.  Retrospectively, when things seemed unfair or hopeless, my life took a phenomenal upswing, and harnessing those memories keeps me moving through the traumas. 

Crumbling

A few months after my friend Mikey died, I was walking my dogs around our neighborhood until a woman runs a stop sign and hits us with her car.  A few months following that, I was sexually harassed by a co-worker, stalked and physically threatened by him, reported to Human Resources, and then laid off 3 weeks later.

My brother died two months after I got sober, Mikey was the ninth to pass, and his brother Thomas (the seventh passing) died 18 months earlier.  They were a part of my chosen family whom I spent holidays with after I no longer spent it with my blood family.

My sanctuary family kept dying but I chose to continue to work hard on my sobriety and career because I had plans.  I was going to pay off my debt, buy a place for myself and my canine companions, and create time for self-care.

My mind and body were nagging me for a mental break – to decompress from an abusive family and grieve from the nine people, by that time, that passed, whilst remaining sober.  But when Mikey died, I felt and heard something in the right-side of my brain jolt, shake, then shift.  It was in that moment I knew innately, consciously, “I was never going to be the same.”

I was diagnosed with C-PTSD; confirmed by brain MRIs, therapy, doctors, and a book I love “The Body Keeps the Score” by Bessel Van Der Kolk, M.D.

Before my diagnosis, C-PTSD had a negative, uncontrolled effect in both my personal and professional life.  But today I’m learning more about it and moving forward with awareness whilst finding and applying tools to manage my life with more control.  Yet of greater importance, my God (or my angels or whatever is looking out for me), having a support system, and those who hang in there with me by not taking things personally are all what keeps me here, intrepidly.

Never Give Up on Love

Despite what I went through; I never give up on my love for others nor myself.  I never give up on being honest, growing, healing, and learning.  I never give up on being a good person; doing what I feel is best for myself, others, and the world around me.  And I never give up on having a new family and new friends whilst doing my best to live in the present with what is.

I take full responsibility for my life and learned not to blame others nor God for what has happened.  I also take full responsibility for the hurtful effects it has on my loved ones when I disassociate because from what I have been told, “You’ve been gone for 10 years!”

The couches I slept on, families of friends who took me in, therapists who put their academia aside and showed me love, support, care, and acceptance helped shape my internal perspective.  If it weren’t for all of them, I’m unsure if I’d believe in love and people as if no tragedy occurred.  I’d like to think that I’ve walked through hell and back like I owned the place.

Today I have people who support and respect my sobriety and/or also sober.  Today I am building healthier relationships with people who want the same as me. Today I have a workplace that understands C-PTSD because they experience that with their family members and that helps them deal with me.  I meditate for 1-hour, do Pilates, read, and write almost daily, socialize and help others when I’m able and am a total beach bum.  The most rewarding is enjoying a home that  I created that’s safe, supportive, and peaceful.

C-PTSD is part of who I am, not who I am.

I am proud of who I am.  I trust how I live.

My abusive past reminds me who I don’t want to be, who I’m not, and what I don’t deserve.  My past regarding the people who have died, helps me remember that I can and will have again, a family and friends to lean into; safely, peacefully, and happily.

Yes, I have flashbacks and triggers which can throw off my day unexpectedly.  I still tend to disappear (disassociate) because I think a threat is lurking, so hypervigilance and adrenaline take over until I feel safe.

This is part of my story and whether people admit it or not, want to be seen.  They want to be understood on a “this is me” level and our world needs more love beyond people holding onto their family, friends, and careers for dear life as if nothing else matters.

From my personal experiences, no one died from opening their hearts and homes wider for me, let alone humankind. Acknowledging with gratitude, this radical acceptance is what helped and helps me thrive wholly as someone who lives with C-PTSD.

“Life happens with or without my willingness to participate helpfully or destructively.  I’m capable of sitting with how shitty things feel and transmuting it into something beneficial for myself and my surroundings.  I’m responsible for my life no matter what has happened.”  – Monique Nguyen

Monique Nguyen is a California Native.  Construction Project Manager by day.  Writer & Humanitarian by night.

Monique Nguyen