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I don't know what to do when I feel angry. For *decades* I didn't allow myself to experience a lot of my emotions (except fear/terror/anxiety). Now that I'm older, it's coming up more and more.

I had terrible models for anger growing up, two polar opposites in fact. My abuser would lose her sh*t at the drop of a hat. She could be all chaos and rage over the littlest of things. And from this I learned to equate anger and violence/abuse.

My father was almost completely emotionally shut down. I only saw him angry once, and I only saw him cry once. And he never stood up to my abuser, not one single time.

So, now I'm 50 years old, and I'm still trying to figure out when and where it's "OK" to experience anger, how much anger is "appropriate" in any given situation, how to express it, and how to stay in my body while feeling it.

Coupled with this is an overwhelming sense of disconnection from people, including those I'm closest to. I get so frustrated and want to just leave everyone and everything behind and start all over someplace new.

It's clear that anger and avoidance are linked for me. I just don't know what to do about it. Exercise helps. Writing helps. It's just not enough sometimes.

Yesterday I was at a work meeting about an upcoming training I'll be co-delivering next month. The workshop will be for vulnerable human rights activists and will include aspects of self-care as well as how to incorporate diversity into their work.

My colleagues and I are keenly aware that the trainees have been through a lot, and we were meeting to plan how our training can be as trauma-informed as possible. That's when I decided to come out as a trauma survivor and as someone with C-PTSD.

I just couldn't keep talking about trauma in the abstract. And I wanted to also be able to offer "insider" tips on avoiding and dealing with being triggered. I trust these colleagues, and they were great.

But today I'm feeling a little shaky. It came over me all at once late this afternoon. I've eaten, drank water, and am wearing my favorite zip hoodie. My plan now to curl up in bed and watch a sci-fi movie or show on my laptop for some fantasy escape.

I'm really proud of myself. If and when we're able to share aspects of our struggles and successes, it can go a long way to destigmatize mental illness. And yet it's a deeply personal choice that can carry real consequences with it. This decision is not for everyone. But for me, when I'm able to share, it's brought a sense of real relief.

This is a poem I wrote that was accepted for publication in Barking Sycamores, a magazine about neurodivergent literature and art.

"Therapy as a Full-Time Job"
by Randal Mason

You've been preparing for it
All day
It's lodged in the back of your mind
Forces
Your attention now and then
Like the neighbor's dog
Barking
When all you crave is quiet
You collect
The week's worth of dreams—
And there have been some doozies—
Try and remember to eat
Or not eat too much
What are your issues with food again?
After more than a decade in therapy
You think you'd have this down
Steeling yourself
Preparing to open
And polish your obsidian core
To a dull shine
Find (appropriate) distraction
Where you will
But there are only so many meals in a day—
There we go, food again—
Only so many songs, cups of coffee
Only so many ways
To keep the dread at bay

I had a nightmare last night, the kind where I woke up screaming. I was able to go back to sleep, but only after patrolling the house to make sure nothing was wrong.

Then today I found out that I made a work mistake. I was supposed to send in a draft proposal at the end of the day on Friday. But the client just sent me a message asking where it was. Puzzled, I searched and found the email and document ready to go in my drafts folder. This has *never* happened to me in my career.

In a way, I'm not surprised. I've felt in a fog off and on for a week now. But I thought I was coming back into focus. I mean, I am comparatively.

It's just that for most of my life, I was hypervigilant. And now that I've been able to let that go, I'm finding that I'm making mistakes and forgetting things.

So, surprise, I've become human.

But it's hard for me not to freak out. Making mistakes means getting punished. And forgetting things means I'm not paying attention, which means I won't see abuse coming.

I know it's old, magical thinking that I can control everything. I've worked hard to move past that as well. Yet at moments like this, it's hard to not regress and feel unsafe.

I guess I need something to take my mind off of things for a while and to do my daily yoga and meditation. Thanks, all.

Do you know what I was, how I lived? You know
what despair is; then
winter should have meaning for you.

I did not expect to survive,
earth suppressing me. I didn't expect
to waken again, to feel
in damp earth my body
able to respond again, remembering
after so long how to open again
in the cold light
of earliest spring–

afraid, yes, but among you again
crying yes risk joy

in the raw wind of the new world.

Has anyone read Supernormal: The Untold Story of Adversity and Resilience by Meg Jay?

A friend of mine who's ACOA (put doesn't have C-PTSD) is reading it. And I'm wondering if anyone on the forum has any impressions of the book. A description follows.

Thanks,
Randal

Clinical psychologist and author of The Defining Decade, Meg Jay takes us into the world of the supernormal: those who soar to unexpected heights after childhood adversity.

Whether it is the loss of a parent to death or divorce; bullying; alcoholism or drug abuse in the home; mental illness in a parent or a sibling; neglect; emotional, physical or sexual abuse; having a parent in jail; or growing up alongside domestic violence, nearly 75% of us experience adversity by the age of 20. But these experiences are often kept secret, as are our courageous battles to overcome them.

Drawing on nearly two decades of work with clients and students, Jay tells the tale of ordinary people made extraordinary by these all-too-common experiences, everyday superheroes who have made a life out of dodging bullets and leaping over obstacles, even as they hide in plain sight as doctors, artists, entrepreneurs, lawyers, parents, activists, teachers, students and readers. She gives a voice to the supernormals among us as they reveal not only "How do they do it?" but also "How does it feel?"

These powerful stories, and those of public figures from Andre Agassi to Jay Z, will show supernormals they are not alone but are, in fact, in good company.

Marvelously researched and compassionately written, this exceptional book narrates the continuing saga that is resilience as it challenges us to consider whether -- and how -- the good wins out in the end.

This poem has been important to my recovery over the years. I first encountered it in the book "Earth Prayers." --Randal

My help is in the mountain
Where I take myself to heal
The earthly wounds
That people give to me
I find a rock with sun on it
And a stream where the water runs gentle
And the trees which one by one give me company.
So must I stay for a long time
Until I have grown from the rock
And the stream is running through me
And I cannot tell myself from one tall tree.
Then I know that nothing touches me
Nor makes me run away.
My help is in the mountain
That I take away with me.

Earth cure me. Earth receive my woe. Rock
strengthen me. Rock receive my weakness. Rain
wash my sadness away. Rain receive my doubt.
Sun make sweet my song. Sun receive the anger
from my heart.

--Nancy Wood

Hi, all. I'm new to this site but excited to start connecting with others. Two new big things in my world:

1. My brother-in-law died over the Thanksgiving weekend. He was an alcoholic, and, in short, his body couldn't take it when he tried to stop drinking this time.

I've been providing a lot of support to my sister, and it's been tricky keeping my boundaries and staying centered with her understandably strong emotions.

2. I'm switching health insurance plans, which means I need to find a new therapist after 11 years. While not an ideal situation, I find that I'm doing OK with it. And, strangely, I'm even a little intrigued about working with someone else who might help my healing journey in new ways.

Despite all of this, I'm feeling thankful for having a supportive partner and an established self-care routine to help me manage around all of this change.

Peace,
Randal

Hi, all. I'm a 48-year-old gay white man with C-PTSD. I've been in therapy for over 11 years and do daily yoga and meditation as well as weekly talk therapy.

But I'm looking for greater identification with others who really grasp the particulars of surviving--and ideally thriving--with PTSD.

My interests include reading, especially sci-fi and fantasy, travel, and cooking.