Messages

Welcome, 
Thank you for sharing your clarity around shame and your honesty that the work continues even after integration.

(If that's ok)

Sending 

Thank you, Kizzie and NK. Your replies helped normalize this as a real nervous-system shift rather than proof that I am doomed, which is how it feels from the inside. It helped to hear that the grief, fear, and disorientation make sense at this stage, even though they are intense.

I also realized that in my last two CBT sessions, my T tried to reason me out of this loss of safety, and that didn't help; it made me feel more alone and abandoned in it. I have named that to her in a message, and tomorrow I'm hoping for Pete Walker's "good enough" support (I am only in chapter 2 of his book - but its very helpful): I think I need presence and co-regulation rather than correction from my T.  For now, it helps to know that what I'm feeling is allowed, even if it's hard. Thank you.
 

I'm trying to put words to something I'm in the middle of and would really value hearing from others who might recognize this.

What happens when someone doesn't (yet) have a solid sense of self, self-worth, or internal safety, and then becomes disillusioned about the one parent or relationship that felt loving and regulating? When it becomes clear that the safety was borrowed, conditional, and came at the cost of self-erasure?

For me, that realization has landed in my nervous system as a kind of free fall. The structure that kept me functioning is gone, and there isn't an internal one in place (yet?). I find myself curled up in bed, unable to get up, feeling lost, crying without knowing exactly about what.

If you've been through this phase, where borrowed regulation collapses before internal safety exists, what helped? What comes after this part?

I'm not looking for fixes, just orientation and shared experience. Right now it feels like I am without anchors or a ground to stand on.

Thank you for reading.

Happy New Year, Papa Coco.
I've been thinking of you and hoping the holidays haven't been too heavy.
Sending a hug if it feels okay.

Count me in for the ice cream party! 🍦

Happy New Year to y'all !

I love this song by Lewis Capaldi; not just the music itself, but what it represents for me. In the video he isn't left to crash and burn during a Tourette's episode; instead, the community around him carries him and the song forward.

That's the image that moves me - not just surviving, but being held as you struggle. That's what finding community here at OOTS has felt like for me too: a place where we don't have to face the hard parts alone, where we're carried a bit when we can't carry ourselves. 💛

https://youtu.be/ZdEbPkD2KYc?si=XMpD2tfMocdnMrH8

Thank you, Chart.
Happy New Year to you too 

HannahOne, thank you for trusting this space with something so layered and painful. What you describe makes deep sense in the context of severe relational trauma: the confusion, the guilt, the fear around seeking help (same here with doctors), the body reactions, the isolation. None of it reads as failure or weakness to me; it reads as a nervous system doing its best to survive conditions that were profoundly unsafe.

I'm really glad you put this here instead of carrying it alone. You're being seen, and you make sense here.

(if that's ok)

Welcome, Ray. 
I'm really glad you wrote, even though I'm so sorry for what brought you here. What you describe: the betrayal, the loss of family support, and the spiritual shaming, cuts incredibly deep. Being met with indifference or blame when you're already wounded is devastating, and it makes sense that it shattered your sense of hope.

I don't know what "healing" ultimately looks like either, but I want to share this: I was high-functioning for most of my life too, and only learned I had CPTSD less than a year ago, in my mid-50s, after what felt like a breakdown and the loss of the numbness that had kept me going. It has been exhausting and painful - and also, slowly, there has been movement, small shifts toward more understanding, less self-blame, and moments of steadier ground.

One thing that helped me early on was learning that trauma can begin very early - sometimes before we have words or memories - and that this doesn't mean we're broken. Understanding that my nervous system adapted to survive conditions it shouldn't have had to endure changed how I see myself.

What's helped me so far has been a mix of learning and reading (including on this forum), consistent trauma-informed therapy (2× per week for now), and gentle nervous-system regulation. I'm far from "there," but I no longer believe that nothing can change. I hold onto the idea of kintsugi: repairing broken pottery with gold - not to erase the cracks, but to integrate them into something still whole and livable. That's the kind of healing I'm hoping for now.

You're not wrong for asking if healing is possible. Many here are living proof that things can become more manageable, even after long stretches of suffering. I'm really glad you found your way here, and I hope you'll keep posting. You don't have to carry this alone.

(if that's ok)

I'm slipping back onto the porch after a heavy couple of days. Feeling a bit tender and quiet, so I'll just sit near the fire with a hot chocolate and a blanket, letting the warmth do some of the work. Grateful this place is here, and for anyone nearby.
☕🔥💛

Welcome, HannahOne. 
I'm really glad you decided to step out of reading and into posting. What you shared about trying to live while disowning the past, and then no longer being able to, resonates deeply. This really is a place where the whole story is allowed. I'm glad you're here.

(If that's ok)

What you wrote about prediction error really landed for me. The idea that the brain is doing exactly what it was evolutionarily designed to do - building models from past danger - but that those models can become outdated, feels both precise and compassionate because it avoids self-blame.

It reminded me of a neuroscience paper I read that helped me explain my own distorted sense of reality: trauma doesn't just create emotional pain; it reshapes how the brain handles threat detection, context-processing, and even self-reference - not just fear responses (Putica & Agathos, 2024, Neuroscience & Biobehavioral Reviews; https://doi.org/10.1016/j.neubiorev.2024.105836). So when the alarm goes off, it isn't "wrong" - it's faithful to old data.

I really appreciate how you're using this framing not to dismiss emotional flashbacks, but to create just enough distance to stay present with them. That balance - understanding why without overriding what - feels important.

Reading your post also made me realize we're circling the same core theme (i.e. "My nervous system is not broken. It is loyal to lessions learned from a past that nearly killed me. And now I have to live while it learns something new") from different angles. You're naming and working with the error signal itself, at the model level. I'm currently more in the identity-level work - feeling the existential cost of updating those models while the old ones fall away. Both perspectives feel complementary to me.

Thank you for putting words to this process. It helps me make sense of something I'm still very much in the middle of.   

Thank you, Kizzie. That reminder really matters, especially at this time of year. Having found this community and knowing it's okay to reach out makes a real difference. 💛   

What you wrote feels very honest about the cost of getting free, not just the triumph. I appreciate that a lot.

I especially resonated with how survival required so much self-erasure, and how exhausting that fight was. Seeing you name the scars and the ground gained helps me hold both as real.

I'm not as far along yet, but reading this still mattered. I'm glad you shared it, and I'm glad you're here - scars and all.