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13.02.26
2 days ago, I did nothing. I stayed at home and did nothing. And doing nothing turned out to be everything. Everything my nervous system needed. I felt the familiar pull initially, of 'so what are you doing today? look, you haven't even planned for career progression...How old are we again? And you also haven't been to the gym in ages and you've put on lots of weight! Everything is terrible!' and then I stopped it and said yes I understand all that but now can you tell me how my body feels? And the answer was clear: exhausted. Muscles fatigued and tense from sress. Stomach in knots.
So I made a cosy spot on the sofa and sat down. A few hours passed and I felt a bit better. Did some gentle cleaning and an easy-to-make meal. Then went back to the sofa. The whole day passed and I didn't traverse the usual route of feeling worse. I started noticing small things too. Like how my instinct is to RUSH through tasks. Rush through brushing my teeth, rush through cleaning, rush through errands, rush through cooking, rush through eating.
My helpful medical education makes this lesson an easy one: the feedback loop of my mind urging me to rush through things comes from a dysregulated place, and the adrenaline released causes more feelings of false fear/anxiety/urgency. So I slowed down. I noticed my breathing; either holding my breath whilst doing things, or breathing too quickly. I also amended that, too.
What a difference. It all comes together, in a perfect jigsaw, when you stop and look at the individual pieces properly. The pieces fit in together, to form the overall picture. And that picture can be changed when you choose different pieces. Throw the old jigsaw out; all its old, withered, worn out pieces that corroborate together to form the picture you no longer want. Grab the new jigsaw wjth the end picture that you now want; it will take you time as you examine the new pieces and learn where they go.

So I'm building my new jigsaw. And sometimes you need time to just sit and examine the pieces. Other days are for the stage where you start putting them together.

That was yesterday. I went to work. A bit less anxious, a bit more confident. I noticed in my communication, I said things that were more in line with how I really felt/thought. For example, instead of assuming I was the dumb, stupid one when asked a question I did not know the answer to, I said I don't know. Turned out the senior doctor I was working with did not know too! I chuckled internally at the vast change in course of action that occurred: I did not just go quiet and crumble and spend the rest of the shift berating myself, instead I felt confident and we searched for the answer together. AI received their support (and automatic validation) and I came home not feeling broken with the Inner Critic going beserk in the evening....AND I HAD DIFFERENT DREAMS. I dreamt my MIL was trying to humiliate me and break me down, and I stuck up for myself and told her 'NOPE, you will not do this to me' and I walked away. She received reprimand from my partner, BIL and her wife and she rang me to apologise. See how it all fits together...? True self allowed to show up, true self not attacked, inner critic not activated prior to sleeping, conscience in my dreams shows up differently, nervous system not activated as a result of the dream sequence...and I did not wake up feeling sick, anxious, terrified and full of shame. I feel quite OK actually. Dare I say it, I feel just...regular. I'm having a morning coffee and waiting for my therapy session at 9.30.

So simple yet so astonishingly HUGE.

Holidayay, I'm new to the forum and just read your last two posts. Thank you for coming back and sharing your experience. So heartening to hear that so many things that once bothered you no longer do. And sobering to read that the grief continues. That makes so much sense. The grief is a part of me, I know. I can't wish it away without wishing myself away.

Having to show up in a social situation is still a trigger and that makes sense too, when part of what we are showing up with is complex grief, ambiguous loss.

Thank you again for sharing your experience. I don't know any better way to learn about CPTSD than from other survivors and I'm so grateful to have found this place and come to understand myself better---and meet so many amazing people who have persevered, sought healing, and found life to be worth living in the midst of that "gift that keeps on giving."

Thank YOU as well, for your kindness, its so appreciated...I'm so pleased to hear you find this place helpful for you. Its incredibly validating to be able to visit a place where your reality is also other people's reality. I could write entire essays on the pain and confusion of being around so-called 'normies' (securely attached or even just non-CPTSD afflicted people)...I've found over the years, its an incredibly big inadvertent source of ammunition for the old trauma, witnessing and having to be around people where you must shut out your own truth in order to be accepted, or communicated with adequately or face condemnation, ostracisation and rejection. One thing that has plagued my ability to accept my own realities and reach out for support is witnessing a girl at Medical School who WAS open and honest about her trauma, being referred to as 'Crazy A'....from there was built a vile inner critic voice that always jumped in, whenever i started to give myself grace, 'oh but look now, careful, you are on your way to suffering the consequences of Crazy A'. Just awful.
(Told you I could easily begin a new essay on this....! I'll reign it in now).

The grief is sobering, but - and I know I can hopefully give some hope here too, the intensity of it at the first stages of addressing is NOT the end result. It turns into something softer, kinder, and transforms over time into something that looks a little bit like evidence of the love we have inside of us, and a source from which beautiful understanding arises.

Your last two posts are astonishing in how they encapsulate a long journey that is so familiar to those of us who are on similar paths. So honest about the searing pain and so full of progress and hope. I loved the expression of amazement at how things that were so terrifying and all-consuming in the past have been vanquished. Along with the acknowledgement that we can know so much, and yet a new terror feels all-pervasive, at least until we can recognise what is happening and use our tools to move forward.

I love the words you have chosen to describe your partner. "reliable, consistent, sturdy and kind". Wonderful qualities and I am glad you have a partner like that. I think that when our lives are so taken over by fears and emotions it is so important to have a partner like that.

Thank you for being so honest in sharing your thoughts with us. I really appreciate it, and you, and the traumatised girl inside you who is brave enough to show herself a little now and reach to you for help.

Ohhh, you can't imagine how much my naturally shy self is smiling at your message. Some old creeping patterns came back after posting, that someone will reply in a hateful manner and your lovely message just zapped through that. Thank you for this.

Morning thoughts 10/2/26 06:43am
I guess my mind now is focusing on all my disastrous coping mechanisms. Trying to walk through the wreckage and see what can be salvaged, and what simply needs to be completely rebuilt.
Its so extensive and complicated. The fawning. The people pleasing. The over-giving. The not having a solid sense of self to bounce things off. The fear and terror if I stood up for myself, or felt like someone did not like me, or was rejecting me, or criticising me, or being overly concerned with rules like in medical school.
Medical school.
Before that, Law school.
University in general.
How incredibly traumatic I found it....trying to find a healing space in a place where the focus was intended to be education. 
Getting so many endless depressive episodes that would drag on and having no ides how to cope with them beyond smoking, isolating and distracting. And getting into these fantasies and limerance where I could feel safe in imaging I was getting all my needs met through them. It was so horrible. I was so depressed when I was in reality. That I didn't have money, or a support system, or any sort of familial help, no strong sense of self or socialisation or confidence when it came to relationships. 
The only thing I had that gave me any sense of confidence at all was my mind. I knew I could understand things, and pass exams. And that was it. I didn't know how to be kind to myself, how to love myself, who I even was. I was so utterly traumatised...Not to mention the constant nightmares and fried nervous system, the two deaths in the family that I had never really dealt with, ad the raging monster of a trauma that was my relationship with my mum that was based on fear, obligation, guilt and shame.
I feel like I was - am - so broken. Well, maybe a bit less broken now. 
How I wish I could turn back the clock and hug that poor girl who was just trying to figure it all out, alone and broken by shame and grief. 
I understand now why my false self can no longer continue as she was. The exhaustion of carrying it all, constantly, showing up ONLY in that space, was so taxing. There was no room or safety for my vulnerability and pain that had grown into a screaming beast inside of me. Screaming and shouting at nighttime, when the consciousness of the false self would be switched off, when the traumatised girl that lived inside me could finally get a say and try to communicate with me.
She is still trying to do this, to this day. The extreme intensity of it all has been slowly picked at; processed and dealt with slowly over time. My relationships have changed. My friendships have changed. My communication has changed. My resources have definitely changed. I now advocate for myself more readily, ask for help more readily, show up (a little bit) more readily. Of course, its all in its infancy. But, its there. 
The workplace, I've found my stride. I've learnt I can show up in a way that protects my empathy from burnout, set boundaries and express myself more confidently. Maybe because there's a bit more of a framework there to work from. However, I still find myself experiencing a tonne of shame when I show up to social situations where I don't know people well. And where, well, there is less of a formal framework and showing up is largely down to you...based on who YOU are.
And I am so scared of rejection there still....
I didn't used to be so much, in my 20s. I had my sister and my best friend. Maybe I didn't feel the fear because I was shielded from having to show up in my real self, because they dominated the space with their wants and needs. They're both gone now. Well, gone from my life. They both rejected and abandoned me when I couldn't hide my pain (real self?) any longer. I showed it to them in 2018/19 and they didn't want anything to do with it. There was some back and fro - especially with my sister - where it felt like a process of trying to see if I could get back in line, and pick up the same role I always did. Support, help, give, give, give and don't demand anything in return. Take care of yourself by yourself...and me - that's what the negotiation period felt like from her. 
My friend on the other hand, saw my pain and was more abrupt. 'Why did you show up if you knew you would feel anxious?', 'if you feel like this, clearly whatever therapy you had wasn't working so why aren't you doing something else?'...as if I had any answers when I felt the most broken I'd ever felt. It was quick; I was unceremoniously dumped and no longer invited to anything - no longer welcome at the birthday parties, the new year's eve parties, the holidays...
My therapist said it perfectly; these two rejections was like adding a searing hot rod into the incredibly painful mess that was my internal emotional landscape. For years, the pain of them felt brutalising and oppressive. Even now, going onto 7 years later, and I can relapse into the murky quicksand of pain when I think of them. Usually when I'm at my most tired, helpless or triggered. The quinttessential beauty of CPTSD; was there anything invented that was ever more apt for the phrase ' the gift that keeps on giving' than CPTSD?
But amongst all this, there is and has been beauty. There is my cat, who I got in 2020. Who loves cuddles and scratches and is gentle and sweet. My partner who is reliable, consistent, sturdy and kind. Who knows when I've had a bad dream and who reaches out for me in those moments of vulnerability, instead of pushing me away. My friend W, who never falters in showing up, whether I am happy or sad. Who invited me to her wedding in 2023, even though I had only known her less than a year, at a time when my ex best friend had left me out of hers, and who insisted I give a speech, even though I felt undeserving and only worthy of being ostracised. Or my other friend who recently travelled over an hour to come see me and hold my hand as I shared with her the darkest details of my bad dreams and torturous pain.
The pain from the people who are bad for us is loud, cold and engulfing; the healing of the good ones is a gentle whisper, that comes in calmy and spreads its warmth slowly. That's what I've realised. Our task here is to learn how to shut out the loud, and how to listen carefully to the good. 
That's what I'm trying to do. I'm still learning how, in all honesty. Its hard. It's bloody difficult. But its possible.

Wow, its been nearly a year since I last posted here. And coming onto 7 years since I started this blog.
What a whirlwind of a journey its been.
I feel like several versions of me have passed between the date of my first entry here and today.
So many layers have been peeled back, peeked into, dug out and analyzed and dealt with.
Then...new layers uncovered.
Its quite a shock how much the things that used to bother me and terrify me, don't anymore. The things I used to worry about. The things I didn't yet know how to do, and worried I would never know, that I'd missed the boat.
Funny. Even when these things are proven untrue, it still doesn't stop that feeling being just as strong and seemingly all-pervasive when the next thing to fear comes up. And yet knowing that these feelings are only that; just feelings, that they are not necessarily reflective of truth or even in some cases, they can cause you to believe in outright lies....this gives me hopes for the new set of challenges that pop up.
Looking back retrospectively to apply PROSpectively. I'm sure one of my previous consultants at work told me there was a term for this. Something to do with higher-brain thinking, or something like that. Supposedly its a sign of intelligence (ah yes I am flattering myself). Well, anyway - it works.
And yet, I still find myself shrivelling and curling up and wanting to hide under the covers when the next CPTSD layer is unlocked.
This time? Grief. Grief at what never was, what could have been, what was snatched away from me, what was taken and distorted into something horrible, false, oppressive. And anger at the realisations of all that I lived with that did not need to be there that made me continue the theme, to snatch things away from myself. Like toxic shame. I am angry that this was used to keep me quiet, to keep my true self at bay for the comfort of those around me.
And...pure devastation. Devastated that I lost my family to dysfunction. That I don't know where my siblings are, that I don't know how their mental health struggles play out and the agony of forcing myself to stay away because jumping in before only brought incomprehensible stress and upheaval into my already fragile psyche.
I've stopped running from grief. I've stopped taking on endless shifts, to keep me busy from it all. I've stopped running around to serve others, in a big to avoid serving myself.
And the silence that is left...is not silent at all. A lot of the time, it feels like I am bleeding pain. That it runs through my veins spreading through my body continuously. A soon as its made its way around once, off it goes again...with another wave of memories and emotional flashbacks.
But.
I'm learning this is not my cue to flee. Or freeze. That I can be still with them. That they have a reason and a purpose to come up. And though it feels awful, they cannot hurt me. They are just like a visitor in the night, wanting to take shelter for a while until the daybreak comes up and they can safely be on their way. Energy just transferring its way through. The dam previously holding them back has burst.

I am ok with being vulnerable a bit more now. I am ok with dualities. I am ok with admitting that I miss and yearn for things that have hurt me. That this is the normal attaching process of a child. That I was never defective. That ending up confused and traumatised was the only logical end process.
I miss them. I miss what was, and what could have been. I miss not missing them.

I don't know how grief plays out. I've only really ever ran from it. But I've learnt you cannot fool it or escape it just because you don't like it.
I've stopped attaching my self worth and validation to achievements. To careers and superficial appearances. Its lonely and quiet here too, another stop in the land of stopping things.
I feel like a chrysalis. I have no real clue what comes next. But, the process can be trusted. I love hope. I will always believe in it. It will forever be that final stronghold, that no-one can seize and colonise.

I started a new form of therapy last week. The therapist spoke of working with my 'different parts'. I finally was able to cry and feel emotions, I've been feeling numb and like an automaton recently.
She explained how previous therapy may not have touched the constant nightmares. That traditional therapy not be able to. That nightmares can be one of my 'parts' spilling over into my sleep.
I immediately felt resonance with what she was saying. I have a strong feeling this is the right modality of therapy for me.
It was interesting the next day..
I had brunch scheduled with some girls I met in the past few years. Instead of doing my usual 'put on a mask, give no real authentic insight into myself and just prioritize others comfort and listen to THEM, I had the urge to try remain loyal to my own authentic self, in that moment. I noticed space was given to the 2 more extroverted members of the group; they spoke of their troubles and their successes recently, and I tried my best to listen and be supportive and celebratory. Then I noticed...there were no questions in return. No inquiring or active open dialogue for ME. Instead of ignoring myself, I listened to what it felt like in my body. And it felt horrible. Like I was willingly participating in the narrative I grew up: passive relaying of a message that others are MUCH more important and 'valid' than me. I felt quite unhappy and upset, actually. I waited until I was one to one with one of them, who I know a bit better, and I 'unmasked' and said a little bit of my truth. That actually, I had been struggling and I wasn't sure how to also speak up and not just go along with the group chat to focus on others and not to take up space. i was hoping she would inquire more and show some maybe concern but she went quiet. The silence really felt like a horrific trigger and...i.dont know, it felt like a mortifying expression of 'downgrading me back into my place' when compared to just earlier, the time, space and effort put into supporting her and the other girl was quite substantive. My system immediately shut down and I have been alternating between dissociating and feeling like I am about to have a panic attack. Bad dreams woke me up, and the morning today was extremely distressing. I couldn't do anything for hours and finally dragged myself out for a walk with my partner which eventually helped shift a bit of the bad energy.
The experience yesterday has given me some valuable information, I think. Most importantly: how willingly and voluntarily I neglect myself and participate in dynamics whereby others also (inadvertently or not) do the same. And I don't want that anymore.
I am worth just as much as the other 2 girls who had space, kindness, acceptance, concern and freedom to be authentic and receive connection freely.
I will not trade in my authenticity for connection. What sort of connection is that? And I believe doing that makes you sick, over time. I will not disconnect from myself, for the comfort of others.
I am somewhat hurt and angry that concern wasn't given in return for me.
I'm not sure whether I should communicate it or not. I don't want to risk being gaslit or an argument.

I switched to my laptop to continue typing because *finally* I have tapped into my feelings and now have the urge to type in more detail.
Where was I? Ah, yes. Moving and change. How it can really scramble us up. I was talking about how it took me a long time to make my old area feel 'safe' and like 'home'. I feel warm and fuzzy when I think about it. It sheltered me and gave me a safe, calm environment in which to bring my pain.
However, it did come with some problems. It is in an area where planes fly low, as it is close to a major airport. The noise of the aircrafts at times, were really antagonizing. Especially when you already have sleep issues and dysregulation and all of that.
Then, for 6 months of last year, the tenant in the flat downstairs of my block decided to renovate - and it was 6monthhs of DAILY DRILLING and banging and sawing. Noise aggravates my tense nervous system like that. Especially what I call 'obnoxious' sounds - like those of electric drills and saws. I just about got through those 6 months but not unaffected.
The other thing with noise in that flat was that it was on a somewhat main road which had potholes and the cars whooshing past were so loud and made my floors and furniture shake and vibrate. And it was a tad expensive.
And it was a rather small flat. So, with all this in mind, we decided we would move somewhere quieter, bigger and a bit cheaper.
We searched for homes within commuting distance of my partner and my place of work. We found an area we liked that would take me roughly one hour to get to work. It was still somewhat doable to get in and out of the major city, but definitely 'out' of it and more surburban. For some reason, in my bubble of love, I completely forgot about how moving to completely new areas triggers me so badly. And this new area was VERY unfamiliar. It was TOO quiet. We didn't know anybody there. And the houses in surburban areas can really be a triggering factor...there is something about the quiet, big, lovely houses that I spent some of my childhood in, juxtaposed against the awful, neglectful, damaging abuse that I experienced that makes me feel incredibly alone and sad.
So, I started to spiral. I missed living IN the big city I lived in before, with all its constant activity, and where I had friends and places of familiarity. I tried to sit tight and make it work and build new safety. Then, we found out we were pregnant. It wasn't intended and a complete surprise, but as we both always wanted kids, it was also a bit of joy.
Sadly, though, as the weeks went on, the mix of hormones and anxiety over being a new mum and being in an unfamiliar home took a huge toll on me. The CPTSD came roaring back with massive vigour. I had access to brilliant psychological services in the new area, at least, and the psychologist explained to me that moving house, being newly pregnant and CPTSD were the perfect storm. She encouraged me to spend time in my old area if possible, for the feeling of familiarity and safety. And that if it was possible, moving back would be a perfectly acceptable thing to do if that's what it took to make me feel safe and grounded.
This was an incredibly taxing time for my partner, who says he often felt helpless and fearful for me, watching me go through this and feeling like he couldn't do anything to physically take some of the pregnancy burdens away from me. We both stressed so much about the future, and how to get out of our new rental contract without penalty.
Somehow, the stars were aligned in our favour, and when we explained our situation to our letting agent, they came back to us and told us our landlord said he is happy for us to exit our contract with no penalty fees. (Sometimes, life can give you the glimmers you so badly need).
I began to feel better, knowing I'd be going 'home' and tried to calm my anxiety over the pregnancy.
We booked in our first scan. I was excited, and felt it would become more 'real' to see out baby on a scan. We made our way over, and I remember texting someone beforehand that we were going to the clinic.
Somehow, the next moments were a blur. One minute we were inside the room, waiting in trepidation to hear news about the progress of the baby, and the next....we were together in a quiet separate room, crying in each other's arms after being told there was no heartbeat. It was devastating. I was told I'd had a silent miscarriage. In all my anxiety and CPTSD flare-up...I hadn't realised - until I heard the words from the sonographer that the baby (foetus? embryo?) did not have a heartbeat, and had likely stopped having a heartbeat 3 days prior - how much I had, on some level beneath the mental health symptoms, wanted the baby.
We cried our way through the next few days, as we navigated attending hospital appointments for the next steps on miscarriage management.
Our friends showed up for us in abundance. I had never before seen such strength of force in support of my experiencing an adverse event. I was stunned at how much strength and comfort you can derive from others in times of distress - as many of us on here know, that is not often the experience you have in childhood when you have CPTSD - there is no template to let you know this is what CAN happen.
We were able to process it and get through it so much better than what I had experienced of surviving difficult situations previously.
And then, we took affirmative steps and looked for a new home. Close to my old flat, but not in the exact same neighbourhood to avoid the aircraft noise and the noise from the main road.
We found a beautiful little flat, with a gorgeous small balcony (I now have a balcony!! Ahhh!! I can drink coffee and sit and watch the beautiful gardens underneath!!) in a building complex that is friendly and had on-site management (makes me feel extra safe). We are close to my old neighbourhood, work is only 20 minutes away, and I feel very lucky and grateful for this.
And yet....emotionally.....I guess it would make sense that I am playing catch up. I have been working quite a lot over the past few weeks, and haven't had a lot of time to process everything else except the miscarriage. I've got quite a lot of intrusive thoughts and feelings and emotional flashbacks.
When I stop doing things and stop being busy, I feel....a bit lost. A bit empty. Sometimes angry. Lacking confidence. I've put on weight through comfort eating and I can't fit into my clothes. Old creeping inner critic thoughts have reignited. That I am ugly, unloveable, not normal, undeserving. Constant thoughts of comparisons taunt me. That I am not as accomplished in my career, that I don't earn enough money, that I am ugly, unfit, chubby. That I am undisciplined, that I had an abnormal childhood therefore who do I think I am to want to aspire more? 'Who are you kidding, get back in your place!' is a big one.
And the biggest thing of all that affects me - I feel often disconnected from my surroundings and my passions. It feels like a while since I've felt connected with myself. Those 6 months of daily noise from the renovation drove me to despair, then moving into the surburban house pushed me into a depressive hole. I didn't write, I didn't cook or bake, I didn't exercise, I just.....sat on the sofa all day and tried desperately to drown out my anxiety and depression by watching TV.
Now that I've come out of all of this, I feel a bit at a loss.
Maybe I should try taking baby steps. I went out for a walk today. It was frustrating cus I know this area well and I remember a time when a walk in this area would feel great. But I felt so disconnected. Like all I know how to do is distract myself with television. Like I've forgotten how to be in and with the outside world again.

I did cook yesterday though, for the first time in ages. Its funny isn't it, how even simple things like cooking can feel weird and foreign when you haven't wanted to do them for so long....again, I remembered a time when cooking would give me joy and happiness.
Maybe I'll get back there with that, too.

For now, I feel burnt out. Happy to have made it out of the last chapter, but still in a zone of...'what just happened?'. I've been sleeping...a LOT. Like my brain needs it desperately. Maybe the rest and recuperation will slowly bring me back. I hope.

So, a lot has happened over the last 6 months or so. My head is still trying to process everything so I thought I'd come on here and write it all out, to perhaps try to consolidate it all.
We - my partner and I (did I update this blog at all that I met my now partner a year ago? And that he is sweet and kind? Yes, ladies and gentlemen, it finally happened for me - I broke our of my old rubbish dating habits and gave one of the good ones a chance and finally in a loving relationship!) moved twice over the past of 5 months.
Let me backtrack a bit. My old tenancy was coming to an end. The relationship had been going pretty well, and he didn't want to stay in his old place sharing with someone he didn't particularly like living with, so we looked into joining forces and move in together.
The city I live in is pretty expensive and we were spending all our time together anyway so it made sense.
I loved my old flat; I spent 3 years making the area 'home' and 'safe. I still remember when I first moved in there - and I don't know about all of you but moving and change has been a huge trigger for me in the past. It takes a heck of a lot of effort and time to make somewhere 'familiar' and 'home' to me. I'm sure that's not just a CPTSD thing, seems like it would be a regular thing for most humans when uprooted.

Oh my goodness, this is so helpful. Thank you for your kind words. This sounds like such a powerful strategy, and I am inspired to try it! Thank you!!

You're in a profession too that breeds that type of self-criticism. Add in cptsd and ouch!

I don't know if this will help you...what I noticed to be true for myself was that the barrage of self-criticism and flat out hate would come when there was something else upsetting happening that would be harder to look at and deal with so the barrage of hate toward myself was this blaring distraction from whatever thought/feeling/situation I was unintentionally avoiding.

For me it was a very slow process of breaking down that cycle but how I did it just sort of evolved naturally. The first step  was just noticing the criticism to start with because for me and maybe you it just played in the background constantly I didn't even know it was normal to walk around without that horrible stuff in your head. It was just white noise.

After that step I started to notice sooner when it would start so that I could catch it at the beginning of the barrage.

Once I was noticing when it started then I started to wonder "now wait, I was just walking down the street feeling good and all the sudden I am hearing these voices about how stupid ugly disgusting and bad I am. What happened to make me feel that way just now?"

Then I started to be able to trace back in my mind and realize that something difficult had popped up in my mind and that these negative thoughts about myself were a massive distraction from the other difficult thing.

THEN I could start to push through the negative thoughts toward myself and pay attention to the trigger underneath them. "Oh. I'm not really a bad horrible human who's stupid and disgusting; I was thinking about my mom and that's so hard to deal with, let me go back to trying to pay attention to those feelings instead."

Or I became more aware of trauma triggers too. So being in a grocery store and someone would come close to me all the sudden I felt incredibly disgusting and gross and  completely overwhelmed with how everyone would know how disgusting I was and I'd need to get out of there and go wash myself in the store bathroom.

I TRULY THOUGHT I was disgusting and had to save people the horror of being near me. I thought that was why those thoughts were there....because they were true. But eventually I learned "ah: I was triggered. This is a trigger and I am having an emotional flashback to when I felt that way. It isn't that I AM disgusting, it's that I am remembering feeling that way and because hey because it's a flashback it feels like that is NOW, but it's the past."

All a very long way of saying...those negative thoughts are either a distraction from something else that is bothering you - smoke bomb! - or the symptoms of a flashback that feels like it is happening NOW. Get to the bottom of it and those voices will eventually soften and then eventually go away. Not quickly, but there's relief to be had.

I wish you luck in getting to the bottom of your relentless inner critic so you can have some peace. I guarantee you are not those horrible things. You're pretty amazing to be able to push through the things that happened to you and to make it in this intense intense field.   

Awww I've only just got around to checking this site again and thank you all so much!!! Your words have lightened me so much, on a day where it is so needed!

My inner critic has gone berserk the past few months.
It's urging me more and more to consider that I am a useless waste of space.
I feel embarrassed by myself. I feel like a let down, a loser and a reject and that I deserve all of these things.
How to quieten this down?
I'm at my wit's end.

I feel detached from myself a lot these days. I'm numb and overwhelmed and scared.
And in deep, deep grief.
I can't even see how I will get out of this and feel better?

I wonder if this is some sort of 'legitimate' stage in the healing...I've recently been feeling extremely shocked and disturbed by the unspoken rules and dynamics at home that governed my childhood.
Being around abusers - siblings and mother - and being forced into cognitive dissonance. Not even knowing the harm they are doing has a name or that it is illegal or wrong, and then at the same time being forced to live a life where by they are 'mum' and 'sister' and 'brother' even though they behaved nothing like these roles at all.
It's making me feeling rageful and shocked to think of this.
Years of being bullied by them AND at the same time, somehow behaving as though they were just family members and all this is just normal.
It's so messed up, it makes me mind hurt.
It's so hard to get healthier now ..to have a healthy relationship and healthier friendships where all it seems to do at times is shine a light on just how abnormal the 'rules of engagement' were, growing up.
It scares me to think I likely did have lots of disruptions to my development. And what this means in practice. And...can you catch up? Can you 'resume' the development growth?
I can't believe my development was stunted so much....it just keeps shocking me that I lived with essentially abusers and bullies until around 16-18 and somehow was conditioned and groomed into accepting all of it as normal.
What on earth did that do to my development?
To blame myself for bad behaviour?
To be unable to see bad behaviour from others in real time because bad behaviour doesn't get called out and there is no right to object against it and somehow I ended up fawning to try to make the situation better.
Fawning with my abusers...the thought makes me sick now. Eww. Trying to placate and look after their needs and put them above my own when they didn't give one shred of care - in fact, they were more than happy to actively be harmful.

It makes me feel extremely sickened and disturbed. Like I want to shake this off and put of my system.
It's repulsive.
Has anyone experienced something similar?

I'm not sleeping well, again.
My dreams consist of movie-like sequences, of people from the past, desperate states from childhood, and unresolved feelings.
There are so many of them and they feel so heavy, it's so hard.
Today I was incapacitated by them. When I first woke up. I felt such a heavy depressive sensation.
It took me a while to go have a shower, and then I was so exhausted from trying to hold on, I fell asleep on the sofa and had a broken sleep for 3 hours.

I'm not quite sure what to do with myself today.
Stuck in some limbo state between exhaustion and thick anxiety. I feel helpless. Like this will never get better.

I feel such despair that my life keeps playing out in cycles like this.
And how it all makes sense, this is how the people around me made me live until the age of 18.
I still remember when I was a child, confused and unhappy, wondering why I only sometimes felt okay and free and even like I could have fun ....and then all this coming to a complete end when my father passed and my NPD mum took full control.
She scowled on fun, on feelings, on needs, on anything that took the attention away from her.
I can't even think about it too much without feeling sick.
I feel like I am in shock.
Shock at the realisations of what I lived with for so long.
That life was just depression, anxiety, fear, very disturbed sense of self since I was young. And that this woman, this 'mother' did all of that.
It makes me feel sick to my stomach. I have such feelings of anger and frustration at her, and the situation.
My life could have been so different, just less torturous. Without these constant sleep issues.
I feel so helpless about the future. How will the sun ever really shine again when even when it does, I can't see or feel it? And can you really reclaim yourself after you have been spiritually robbed?
I don't know.

I don't know how to look after myself today. My partner has been looking after me and I am worrying I am putting a lot on him. He is sleeping right now, on the sofa.
The cat is curled up on the sofa next to his.
With a cosy lamp on.
I'm looking at them thinking how much the real me, under all of this darkness, would love such a scene. And remembering a time when such a scene would bring me joy and comfort. And yet I feel nothing besides despair.
I just feel sad.

Hey holidayay,

In my experience growing up in a NPD household, I was constantly "not good enough," which I even probably started feeling from an age I don't even remember. Comparing myself to other people and how if I could only have x, or look like x, or not do x, was a way try and get the love/acceptance etc that I never received growing up. Perhaps this internal compass of feeling less than is still active in your subconscious?

Sending you support,
dolly

I resonate so much with this. And your astute observation that it's still active in my subconscious. It absolutely is    I find I still have to actively convince myself I am just as deserving as others and it's okay to just be me. It's very hard to remember this all the time, especially when I'm stressed.
Hope you have been keeping well.