What actually gets passed down

Trauma can alter the expression of genes. That is epigenetics. Stress, famine, displacement, and chronic fear can leave biochemical markers on DNA packaging that change gene function without changing the genetic code. What parents and grandparents endured not only shapes family habits. It can shape how a nervous system responds to threat, attachment, and safety many decades later. In a landmark study of Holocaust families, researchers documented shifts in methylation of FKBP5, a regulator of the cortisol system, in survivors and in their children who did not live through the original events. Comparable patterns show up in other contexts as well, including families affected by war, genocide, severe discrimination, natural disasters, and refugee flight. The point is simple. When people say trauma runs in a family, it is not just a figure of speech.

Inherited trauma rarely looks like a story

What passes forward is not always a narrative or a flashback. It often looks like a survival strategy that does not match the current environment. A child grows up in a safe home, yet cannot sleep unless every curtain is closed and every door is checked. A teenager treats disagreement like a death sentence, even in a respectful household. An adult keeps pushing away secure partners because the body has learned that calm usually comes before danger. These are not quirks. They are trained reflexes. They stay invisible until someone starts asking the right questions.

You do not inherit a diagnosis. You inherit the coping

CPTSD is not handed down like eye color. Defense patterns are. Silence is. Emotional constriction is. When trauma is not processed, it leaks into parenting through control, through chaos, or through inconsistency that leaves a child sensing danger without language to name it. Children repeat what works, even if it only worked in the old house. They pass it on not because they are broken, but because they were trained by example.

When pain gets ritualized

Trauma does not always announce itself. Sometimes it hides inside rules that are treated as virtues. Do not talk about feelings. Stay productive no matter what. Outsiders cannot be trusted. Keep the family’s business inside the house. Loyalty above all. The same mechanism hides domestic violence that nobody names. It hides animal abuse that neighbors avoid reporting. It hides generational child abuse that gets rebranded as strict parenting. In some families, stints in jail become a rite of passage rather than a warning sign. From the inside, these patterns sound like culture or tradition. Trace them backward and you usually find war, forced moves, addiction, shame, betrayal, or plain neglect. When trauma is not processed, it gets ritualized. It is repackaged as rules, reinforced as identity, and handed down as survival even when the danger is long gone. Dysfunction is often inherited pain on autopilot.

Breaking a pattern requires recognition, not avoidance

Moving on without naming the pattern does not change the pattern. It extends it. Real change starts with accurate labels. Name what happened in the family line, even if it was not your direct experience. Notice the default settings that make no sense in your current life. Choose deliberate counter-moves. Rest when the old rule says grind. Set a boundary where the old rule says keep secrets. Speak where the old rule says stay quiet. This is demanding work because you are not only adjusting your mood. You are rerouting generations of survival programming. That is heavy labor, not a slogan. It is also where the leverage sits. You are not obligated to carry the pain forward because it was handed to you. The future of the pattern is not fixed.

Final thoughts

If you feel like you were born carrying grief that did not start with you, or fear that does not match your lived history, you are not defective. You may be the first one who chose to hold up the mirror. You get to decide what continues and what ends.

References

Yehuda R, Daskalakis NP, et al. Holocaust exposure induced intergenerational effects on FKBP5 methylation. Biological Psychiatry. 2016;80(5):372-380.
Dias BG, Ressler KJ. Parental olfactory experience influences behavior and neural structure in subsequent generations. Nature Neuroscience. 2014;17(1):89-96.
Serpeloni F, Radtke KM, et al. Does prenatal stress shape postnatal resilience? Epigenetics and behavior in war-exposed Syrian refugees. Translational Psychiatry. 2017;7(7):e1185.

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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.

Dr. Mozelle Martin

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

www.InkProfiler.com

As a child, I trembled at the thought of my brother being drafted into war, picturing his desperate flight to Canada, hitchhiking in disguise to avoid the draft. The terror of conflict consumed me, its senseless carnage etching itself into my soul.

Decades later, my godson toyed with enlisting. I pleaded with him to reconsider, but at his boot camp graduation, I stood frozen, watching young, ebullient recruits chant of killing and conquest. Horror gripped me. 

I understand this is the purpose of boot camp training: to indoctrinate human beings into an unnatural state of being, of allegiance and obedience. 

It’s similar in our family ancestral line, our schooling (vs. education), our religious systems, and our social structures…

What if we trained these beautiful young recruits for peace instead…

And what if peace is our innate impulse…

I refuse to believe humans are born for war and rather envision that war is becoming obsolete. I suspect a darker force has conditioned us across millennia, twisting our nature. What if we broke free from this programming in every system that has touched our lives? What if we tuned into our hearts and unlocked our true potential through the quiet power of discernment?

This has been my journey in recognizing my toxic systems of influence and CPTSD triggers – going within and rewiring my inner systems. 

Please consider pausing to reflect: Where did toxicity take root in your life? School? Family? Work? Religion? 

Trace the moments when obedience to something wrong bent your path. Then, turn inward, claim your authentic choices, and stand tall. 

Your discernment is your power, your sovereignty, and your strength. 

Living true to yourself liberates you and ultimately can light the way for others to break free, too.

Susan Gold guides her clients to break free from toxic systems, empowering them to live authentically from the heart and embrace their innate intuitive abilities. Visit her website, https://www.susangold.us/, and YouTube channel, https://www.youtube.com/@susangoldismagical, for free resources, including her inspiring new podcast, Gold Conversations. Tune in as guests reveal their transformative journeys—awakening from toxicity to thriving in alignment with their true selves.

Featured Image Photo by Noah Buscher on Unsplash

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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.

Susan Gold

Contributor Susan Gold is an author and transformationalist. After growing up in a toxic family system, she now helps others through similar trauma, leading with heart and love. Her YouTube video posts are at: https://www.youtube.com/@susangoldismagical

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.

If you’re a veteran or first responder, I assume you’ve survived your fair share. If that’s the case, you’re also probably stronger for it. So why does it feel so hard sometimes? Oftentimes we think that we’re strong enough to survive the mundanities of life and feel resistant to getting help due to our past experiences with more extreme events. Many people think therapy and meds aren’t for them, that they’re for ‘other people’. And they are for other people, but they might be for you too. We all need help once in a while. So let’s talk about help and the resistance we often feel toward it.

Stigmatization

This is a big one. In our society, we construct a chasm between “normal people” and the “mentally ill,” which makes us terrified of being thrown into the latter category—terrified of not being seen as a full person, of being fundamentally “other” than the rest of humanity. This otherworldliness brings a sense of rejection, along with the terrifying thought of being a freak. I know I was that way. A big reason I refused help was that I didn’t want a professional to throw me out of the normal category. I mean, I never really fit into that, but a guy can dream. I was so afraid of what I’d be, of having my identity ripped away from me. Then I got diagnosed with anxiety, depression, PTSD, and CPTSD, and guess what happened to me? Nothing. Having a few bunches of letters thrown into my file didn’t change who I was one bit, but in fact, helped me find the path to self-actualization and a semblance of peace.

Pills Are Scary

Maybe you’re afraid of getting help because medications are uncharted territory, or you’ve had a negative experience in the past, and I totally get that. There are tons of pills out there that do a plethora of different things to your mind and body. Who knows what will happen to you? The answer, unfortunately, is nobody does. Your depression and anxiety could worsen, you can get brain fog, weight gain is a possibility, and you could suffer fatigue. Those are things that, when brought to the attention of your mental health providers, can be sorted through and addressed. The first round of meds could be rough at first and then improve your life. They may continue to affect you negatively after you’ve adjusted. They might be exactly what you were looking for and help you gain the stability and calm you’ve been after. There’s only one way to find out, but it’s worth the effort. I am currently on four different medications, and they work great for me. It wasn’t always like this, though. I’ll admit that I had a rough time for a while as finding the right meds and dosages is very much a process of trial and error and not a fun experience, but it’s worth it in the long run. The first thing prescribed to me when I got back to America curbed my nightmares, and it made my nights substantially better, but I was given antidepressants that did next to nothing for me. I was on pills that made me more anxious, depressed, and flashback prone, but now my meds have enabled me to go days without crying and panicking. Thanks to the four pills I currently take, daily life has become more manageable.

Mental Hospitals Are Not Scary

The mere thought of checking yourself into a mental hospital may be terrifying. And I get it; I’ve seen the same movies as you. It’s never portrayed in a positive light, nor is it talked about in the most respectable of ways. The lack of freedom, the mental states of the residents, and what it would say about you if you went are all things people worry about. People have told me they’d rather die than check themselves in. I used to say I’d do anything to get better but rejected the prospect of hospitalization. But there’s a point where many of us need to come to terms with the fact that things may not get better on our own, and we need to try everything we can.

Mental hospitals are safe environments generally for the stabilization of people who are simply struggling in their daily lives. Personally, my hospitalization was quite a relief. I got a break from all of my stressors and had the opportunity to focus on nothing but my mental wellbeing. The other patients were mostly suffering from suicidal thoughts and posed no danger to anyone. Furthermore, they were a fantastic, empathic community. We watched movies at night and played cards during the day. We had no sleep schedule, the faculty treated us with respect, had comfortable beds, and had all of our needs met. There was nothing scary about it. It was safe and calm.

We Can’t “Just Suck it Up”

Ever hear that? Has anyone ever told you to just deal with it, and you’d be fine? Well, they’re wrong. Broken bones need to be set, a ruptured appendix requires surgery, and mental health needs a combination of treatments. Severe medical conditions need doctors. If someone tells you to suck up a heart arrhythmia, they’d sound ridiculous. Your mind is not something that can be changed by sheer willpower—your mindset is, but your mind is not. And that’s perfectly okay! It’s okay that you need help. I have never come across someone who was humiliated by an asthma attack. Getting the professional help that you need isn’t something to be ashamed of. In fact, it’s actually a sign of strength in the face of all of the stigmas surrounding mental health.

It’s Just a Little Baggage

People can say and think what they want but it will never change the reality. The truth is, the mentally ill are “normal” people who carry some unusual baggage. And what’s a normal person, anyway? Everyone has their unique problems and mental wellbeing is a spectrum. People move up and down along the spectrum but at the end of the day that doesn’t change their value as human beings. And you can move in the right direction with the right help, and that is in no way a strange or shameful thing to do. When you think about it, it’s more problematic to not want to get better. Stigmas are harmful, but they’re just that: stigmas. Don’t let the fear of diagnoses and labels guide your life. You are you, and nothing is going to change that.

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.

Gabe Keye

Gabe is a combat veteran and university student. In his spare time, he strives to help trauma sufferers through his writing.

www.gabekeyeauthor.com/blog

Welcome Home My Friend

This is the moment you’ve been waiting for. The world is your oyster and it’s time to celebrate. How are you going to do it? You could go to college, start a business, get a dog, or anything else your heart desires! Sounds great, right? Well, here’s the thing: transitioning home can suck. Sometimes a lot. So let’s talk about a few of the issues you may be facing because you deserve a bit of a heads-up––or at least a bit of support. For the sake of consistency, I’m writing this assuming you have recently returned home to the U.S. after finishing your military service. What I am going to say doesn’t necessarily apply to everyone, but the experiences described aren’t uncommon and aren’t talked about enough.

Out of Context 

After all of those years in the armed forces, especially if deployed overseas, your world has been changed––both on the micro-level of everyday life, and the macro-level of your worldview. In terms of the micro, you may have become accustomed to being part of a system, a unique society full of rules, customs, and tasks that most people can’t even begin to imagine. It is difficult to understand the military unless you’ve been there. Being part of a society means having shared experiences, culture, and even language. In that sense, the society you previously belonged to is not this one, and thus your reentry being an uncomfortable adjustment should come as no surprise––culture shock barely scratches the surface. Life and all its problems were dramatically different abroad and carried a completely different class of weight and intensity than what you face at home. You lived under mortal threat alongside a huge number of other people you saw every single day, and that’s the society you’re coming from.

In the macro, you’ve seen a different side of the world. You’ve seen unspeakable violence, even from and against children, and you understand that our planet is home to horrors that civilians can’t possibly comprehend. You know what intense fear feels like, and your definitions of “bad” and “hard” are fundamentally different concepts than they were before you joined, and fundamentally different than everyone else’s.

A Sea of Trivialities

And now you’re home. Here, you are a totally free individual in a society where people complain about things they see on Instagram, annoying gossip from work, and the state of their neighbor’s yard. And you’re bringing your problems into this sea of trivialities. You’ll be able to talk to civilians about it, but they aren’t going to understand. It’s traumatic to go from the intensity of the army to the vast, calm world of civilian life; people are going to think you’re a regular person, but you’re not. This is a difficult and lonely role to find yourself in after war, and those who support you may not understand.

Something that might help you is finding other veterans to connect with as soon as possible. Surround yourself with a community that understands you, and has the experience in transitioning that you don’t. With other veterans, you’ll feel less alone and will have that familiar context again. In time, you’ll feel more adjusted to society and more comfortable with yourself and others––but that will take time. For now, reach out to those with similar experiences, because feelings of isolation are a killer.

PTSD Really Sucks (And if you have it – you must deal with it) 

You very well may be dealing with military trauma. Maybe you visually search every one you see for weapons, generally distrust people, or react strongly to loud noises. Everyday tasks like grocery shopping have become an ordeal, or maybe you have to take regular bathroom breaks at your job to have private panic attacks. Even the birthday party of a family member could be mentally excruciating. You may even have somatic flashbacks and start screaming in public, which is a humiliating experience. This is going to be a difficult challenge, but there are ways to overcome it.

First and foremost, a little self-acceptance goes a long way. Accept that this is happening to you, but it isn’t who you are––that you are having a normal reaction to an abnormal situation, and that your mental injuries can heal, meaning that you can live a normal life if you keep putting in the effort. This is all easier said than done, but it gets substantially easier as time goes on. On the topic of the effort, we have to talk about what it takes to get better.

Everyone’s symptoms manifest differently, but the answer is always the same: treatment. Much like suffering from PTSD, treatment is a colossal pain in the ass and will exhaust you. Sometimes your treatment may make you feel worse at the moment, but that’s not bad; healing hurts and takes time, but it’s worth the effort. Anything is better than the pain of PTSD, and with treatment, there will come a point where it no longer rules your life. These treatments also require a fair amount of acceptance, as they only work when you’re completely honest with yourself. I personally did inpatient at McLean Hospital, outpatient in several places, EMDR, psychotherapy, and several DBT groups. I take four different medications. I’m still very much a work in progress, but I am slowly reclaiming my life. And while it’s hard to measure progress, once in a while you’re going to be surprised by how well you’re doing, and those moments will give you untold strength. There is no single cure-all––it takes a lot of work and commitment––but you’ll get there.

It’s For the Rest of Your Life 

You will never be a full-on civilian and you’re no longer a soldier, so what are you? You’re many things, actually. You’re a veteran, for starters, and that’s a perfectly fine thing to be; it’s all the coolness of being a soldier without the hassle. You’re also you, and that’s no small thing. You may be an artist, a dedicated parent, or a great cook. What you aren’t is your past, your mental injuries, or the many issues you may face during this transition. Having trouble in a new reality doesn’t make you a freak or anything. Just remember that you’re not the only person who’s had to deal with this, and you won’t be the last; that this is going to be hard but it gets easier over time, as long as you keep fighting for peace of mind.

Parting Words

I would like to welcome you home and wish you the best of luck. I don’t know what your exact experience will hold, but I know that you can overcome anything, even though it doesn’t always feel like it. The war you face at home will in many ways be harder than the one overseas, but you can and will find victory. You’re gonna be great.

Gabe Keye

Gabe is a combat veteran and university student. In his spare time, he strives to help trauma sufferers through his writing.

www.gabekeyeauthor.com/blog