Personal Stealth Technology

You might think that the ultimate profession for someone with CPTSD was writing. You get to hide facelessly behind a keyboard and play with words. Sounds like a sweet gig. However, there is an ugly truth about writing which needs to be uncovered.

As can be attested by thousands of writers, and by the thousand more moldering corpses of writers locked alone in garret attics still vigilantly at their desks pen clutched in hand or face-down over a keyboard, publishers do not come looking for writers. It falls to the writer to produce a piece of brilliance and then to make that humble effort (you gotta be humble, you walk up to an editor saying ‘I’m brilliant, you’ll get shown the door) anyway– you take your humble effort off to do the ’rounds’ of the publishing ecosystem.

This process, universally dreaded by the writing community, is called querying.

So, how does all this tie into Complex PTSD? Like this — In querying there is a great deal of ‘putting yourself out there’ and in Complex PTSD there can be a near-pathological need to ‘be unnoticed.’

Recently I’ve run across yet another area where the demands of querying are in complete opposition to what my brain tells me is safe.

Let me explain a bit about one aspect of my Complex PTSD. In my childhood home, it was much better to be unnoticed. Blending into the wallpaper was an essential skill learned early and perfected quickly.

You didn’t storm off in a huff in my home; you didn’t huff at all if you wanted to avoid the inevitable backlash. My brother was the one who gained attention through challenging authority and risk-taking.

I saw what that earned him in return.

My reactions fell into the ‘fawn’, ‘freeze’, and ‘flight’ range

Nope, that was not my way. My reactions fell into the ‘fawn’, ‘freeze’, and ‘flight’ range. Back me far enough into a corner and I would hit ‘fight’, but you’d have to catch me first and that was not going to happen if I could possibly avoid it.

My brother provoked confrontation; I avoided it.

So, our family proceeded through the day-to day-motions of normalcy, my parents rigidly locked into their roles, me not causing a single ripple in the air with my presence. I perfected personal stealth technology in the 60s.

There would be this stagnation that functioned as the ‘status quo’. Although those days were still somewhere in ‘yellow alert’ status, they were the better days in our house. And, it is a strange thing that when the alternatives are bad or worse, you start thinking of ‘bad’ as–if not enjoyable–at least, not directly threatening your existence.

Yeah, days where the sirens aren’t going off, and the conversation stays in tight monosyllables, are good days. You learn to jealously guard that status quo because it is safe.

How does all this tie into querying?

Well, given the above, I am a person who believes that ‘no news’ is ‘good news’. It means the status quo hasn’t shifted, and the inevitable crash didn’t come today.

Because the crash will come. Have no doubts about that.

However, there are situations in querying that need to be nudged along. The idea, the very thought that I would do anything to break the delicate status quo, is terrifying. It means bringing the crash, provoking that eruption that obliterates everything in its path. And that disaster is only ever a sigh away.

As a result, my thinking goes something like this.

I can stay here, quietly waiting, until I hear a response. If I hear a response.
By sitting here quietly, I could be overlooked. It has happened many times before, because isn’t that what I have practiced and perfected my entire life?
Non-being. Not taking up space. Invisibility.

But, in querying your writing, that survival instinct doesn’t move you to your goal. It shackles you in the shadows.

By putting a hand up, or asking a question, you break the shield of invisibility surrounding you, intentionally. What your experience tells you is an act of pure madness because: ‘no news’ ‘is good news.’

By bringing attention to yourself, you are asking to be removed, denied, or dismissed.

So, what do you do? Sit, patiently for the inevitable to descend or do you send the gentle ripple out into the world that will reflect back to you as a crushing blow?

It’s like a game of Russian roulette, but every barrel is loaded.

 

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.