Recent posts
#1
Recovery Journals / Re: Starting my journal
Last post by holidayay - Today at 07:17:22 AMMorning 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.
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.
#2
Symptoms - Other / Freeze response after nightmar...
Last post by Stussy7 - Today at 05:17:31 AMAs you all know, CPTSD causes constant nightmares.
After a night of horrific nightmares last night, I have gone into freeze mode and have totally shut down.
My husband asked if I wanted to talk about the nightmares, but I said no.
So I was wondering...is it better to openly talk about the nightmares, or is it better to just distract yourself and try and forget?
Maybe if I talk about it next time, I might not go into shut down mode?
After a night of horrific nightmares last night, I have gone into freeze mode and have totally shut down.
My husband asked if I wanted to talk about the nightmares, but I said no.
So I was wondering...is it better to openly talk about the nightmares, or is it better to just distract yourself and try and forget?
Maybe if I talk about it next time, I might not go into shut down mode?
#3
Recovery Journals / Re: Living As All of Me
Last post by HannahOne - Today at 03:27:30 AMI was due for some good luck. I'm so glad I found the primary care doctor just when it did and will have help to navigate all this. Overall excellent news from oncologist. Of course, I'm saddened and fearful of the medication I'll be taking and I am feeling punished, like "doom fulfilled," a sense of foreclosure and grief, "I knew it, I wouldn't get away without suffering more, I deserve this." "My life will be ruined."
But that is really premature, I may do fine on the treatment. It's just the brush with mortality even though again I am assured I will not die of this. Getting older is strange, as inside parts of me still feel so so young, almost like I haven't even started my life---and now it's more than half over, and I'm having to balance complicated medical issues that oppose each other. Parts of me are very upset, disappointed, feel I haven't begun yet, I've spent most of my life just trying to survive, and then to recover.... I don't even know what I want to be when I grow up yet and it's almost time to retire, or I'm going to be medically retired the rest of the way shortly.... ah well, I am officially old. Maybe I've worked enough. Maybe there is yet time to begin again. It's a new thing to begin to focus most of my energy on myself, what I feel, need. I am going to work through it.
I have to remind myself my age, that it's ok to be this age, it's ok to not be perfectly well, it's ok to need medicines, or a diet, or exercise, or more self care, to have to focus on being well and not on getting stuff done. I've done plenty, I did much of what I wanted to do. And while parts of me feel they haven't gotten to live yet, I have lived a very full life. One of the benefits of CPTSD is I had a foreshortened sense of the future and so I really did live in the moment, I never thought I'd live past 30, let alone 40.... I traveled when I wanted to, I quit jobs when I Wanted to, I made babies and stayed home with them when I wanted to, I worked with animals when it didn't pay, I made art, I wrote poetry, I sat under trees when I should've been putting green into my 401k. It's how I survived, to balance out the pain I sought joy, presence, nature, beasts, babies, art. And so I don't have regrets on that score. I have some feelings about the limits of what I accomplished, but that's part of the tradeoff, I made a lot less money than I planned to or expected, I left behind certain ambitions to pursue what I thought was more important, and I don't think I judged wrongly. It's just you cannot have it all. I loved what I've had. I hope to get more of it, to be well enough to enjoy, travel, be present at the kitchen sink and in the barn.
Meanwhile I have to get a bunch of scans and tests done to decide exactly which treatment would be least problematic. I am so relieved to have a primary to steer this ship. I am so glad my chart now says "medical trauma." I feel like I'm going to be able to do it. I feel some dread. But I don't feel like I need to disappear and hide from the appointments.
I'm so tired. Tomorrow more PT for the torn knee ligament. I am hoping to get much stronger in the months ahead. I am planning a trip to California to some national parks and hope to hike and tent camp with my sibling assuming I feel well enough---but it won't be the knee that stops me. It would be so healing to be outside. I have about 7 weeks to get my knee back to snuff. I packed my suitcase tonight. Wool, wool, and wool, a metal spork. I am glad I can still plan to go. This is what I live for. Moving through nature, I especially love the desert. you can see for miles and miles. The red or yellow rocks are sculptural and shape the blue air differently than anywhere else. And around them little green scrubby leaves. Everything there is hardy and living on the edge, living on the bare minimum, not flowering or leafing one iota more than necessary yet showing up fully. May I thrive similarly in my oasis, where there's water plenty now. Now sleep.
#4
Recovery Journals / Re: Living As All of Me
Last post by HannahOne - Today at 03:22:10 AMMarcine, TheBigBlue, NarKiddo, Kizzie, Chart, SanMagic7 Thank you so much for commenting and the encouragement.
I have not and will not share what the forum is with anyone. I want privacy. Even from the therapist. But I did tell her I have found a group of people who've been through similar as me, raised by various types of wolves. And that it's the most healing thing just to find them. Just to not have to pretend to be "normal" or that nothing is or ever was wrong, to be able to tell it like it is, keep it real. She was shocked at first as I don't share with anyone... and it was a happy moment. Thank you all.
Chart, love does not disappear. Thank you.
the BigBlue, yes that's it! I could rest because I was seen. And yes---the doctor not arguing with me! I swear. There's a meme I saw once, "Your one day of learning about my disease in med school doesn't compare to my fifty years living with it" and in the case of most doctors that's the case about more rare diseases, unless they specialize in it. Let alone how little most learn about menopause!
NarcKiddo, thank you for reminding me what we all deserve.
Thank you Marcine!
Your support means so much.
SanMagic7, I hope such a doctor appears for you. We need a database of trauma-aware doctors all around the US Canada and the world, we can crowd source a google doc!
Kizzie, thank you so much for your advocacy. This is essential! Today at the oncologist he wanted to do an exam. And clearly the note in the medical record worked because he said, "What can I do to make the exam more tolerable?" He handed me a list. A printed card! The nurse would be in the room. I could choose my level of recline, have him describe what was happening or not speak during, have the nurse wherever I wanted, hold a squish ball or not... It was extremely brief exam and I forget the other options. To be honest none of the options helped and seemed a bit silly, but what helped was HAVING OPTIONS. And having a mutual understanding that there was a "thing," there was a trauma, there was an issue so that I didn't have to hide it, I didn't have to "act normal" so he wouldn't know I have CPTSD. For me that is the most triggering part is having to act like there is no trigger. Is that weird? Having it be acknowledged between us with the list paradoxically allowed me to act perfectly "normal," I had zero symptoms of PTSD in the moment and the exam was a nothingburger. HOORAY!!!
I'm sure it helped that I wore loafers and a fabulous blazer with pockets aligned diagonally, with silk pants in a muddy khaki. The receptionist had on a cowprint skirt. "I love the skirt!" I said. She lit up. She had seen it on an influencer, then found it in a Marshall's the same day. What a coincidence. "Cow print is in, but I'm not so bold," I told her. "And the turban!" I said. "Pop of color!" she said, touching the hot pink head wrap. As I got on the elevator she called, "I love your bag!" I looked down, ah yes the zebra print bag! I have animal print too! Just in my hand and not wrapped around my hips. May I soon be so bold as to wear it on my hips. Clothes continue to be a way to connect with others and myself, help me show up as the middle aged person I am, in all my complexity, gifts, wounds, hopes and fears.
I have not and will not share what the forum is with anyone. I want privacy. Even from the therapist. But I did tell her I have found a group of people who've been through similar as me, raised by various types of wolves. And that it's the most healing thing just to find them. Just to not have to pretend to be "normal" or that nothing is or ever was wrong, to be able to tell it like it is, keep it real. She was shocked at first as I don't share with anyone... and it was a happy moment. Thank you all.
Chart, love does not disappear. Thank you.
the BigBlue, yes that's it! I could rest because I was seen. And yes---the doctor not arguing with me! I swear. There's a meme I saw once, "Your one day of learning about my disease in med school doesn't compare to my fifty years living with it" and in the case of most doctors that's the case about more rare diseases, unless they specialize in it. Let alone how little most learn about menopause!
NarcKiddo, thank you for reminding me what we all deserve.
Thank you Marcine!
Your support means so much. SanMagic7, I hope such a doctor appears for you. We need a database of trauma-aware doctors all around the US Canada and the world, we can crowd source a google doc!
Kizzie, thank you so much for your advocacy. This is essential! Today at the oncologist he wanted to do an exam. And clearly the note in the medical record worked because he said, "What can I do to make the exam more tolerable?" He handed me a list. A printed card! The nurse would be in the room. I could choose my level of recline, have him describe what was happening or not speak during, have the nurse wherever I wanted, hold a squish ball or not... It was extremely brief exam and I forget the other options. To be honest none of the options helped and seemed a bit silly, but what helped was HAVING OPTIONS. And having a mutual understanding that there was a "thing," there was a trauma, there was an issue so that I didn't have to hide it, I didn't have to "act normal" so he wouldn't know I have CPTSD. For me that is the most triggering part is having to act like there is no trigger. Is that weird? Having it be acknowledged between us with the list paradoxically allowed me to act perfectly "normal," I had zero symptoms of PTSD in the moment and the exam was a nothingburger. HOORAY!!!
I'm sure it helped that I wore loafers and a fabulous blazer with pockets aligned diagonally, with silk pants in a muddy khaki. The receptionist had on a cowprint skirt. "I love the skirt!" I said. She lit up. She had seen it on an influencer, then found it in a Marshall's the same day. What a coincidence. "Cow print is in, but I'm not so bold," I told her. "And the turban!" I said. "Pop of color!" she said, touching the hot pink head wrap. As I got on the elevator she called, "I love your bag!" I looked down, ah yes the zebra print bag! I have animal print too! Just in my hand and not wrapped around my hips. May I soon be so bold as to wear it on my hips. Clothes continue to be a way to connect with others and myself, help me show up as the middle aged person I am, in all my complexity, gifts, wounds, hopes and fears.
#5
Recovery Journals / Re: the next step
Last post by TheBigBlue - February 09, 2026, 07:12:05 PMAll the best for you T session today
#6
Recovery Journals / Re: the next step
Last post by HannahOne - February 09, 2026, 07:08:25 PMSanMagic, I was moved by your post. That your D can now accept your care would seem to show repair and healing over time. Cheers for that. The intense parenting required to get a child through high school alive is relatable. When our children need so much, we have to try to meet those needs, while also meeting our own, too. I hope you do get even a moment to curl up, and encourage you to make sure you're eating and resting too.
So glad you can see the new T today. It's always challenging to start a new therapy relationship and I know that feeling of waiting for things to "cohere", to have that sense of a shared understanding of the landscape---and where to start the tour?
I hope it will be supportive today.
So glad you can see the new T today. It's always challenging to start a new therapy relationship and I know that feeling of waiting for things to "cohere", to have that sense of a shared understanding of the landscape---and where to start the tour?
I hope it will be supportive today. #7
Recovery Journals / Re: Marcine’s journaling forwa...
Last post by HannahOne - February 09, 2026, 07:04:02 PMMarcine, hooray for self-acceptance, joy, and yes, a poignant sense of what the journey has cost.
That win-win is so important I think. So many times I've ended up on the losing side, I picked the wrong people, or lacked awareness I was losing/what the other person was extracting, or I wasn't able to negotiate when I did notice. Looking for win-win situations is such an important aspect of healing to notice!
That win-win is so important I think. So many times I've ended up on the losing side, I picked the wrong people, or lacked awareness I was losing/what the other person was extracting, or I wasn't able to negotiate when I did notice. Looking for win-win situations is such an important aspect of healing to notice!
#8
Recovery Journals / Re: the next step
Last post by Armee - February 09, 2026, 05:34:59 PM It's beautiful what you are doing and also its important to put on your own oxygen mask too. Part of that is going to your T today.
I hope this is something you can bring up with her and get some support or guidance on.
#9
Recovery Journals / Re: Marcine’s journaling forwa...
Last post by TheBigBlue - February 09, 2026, 05:28:48 PM
#10
Medication / Re: Multiple medications, long...
Last post by Kizzie - February 09, 2026, 04:45:48 PMSorry to hear you've had negative and lasting experiences with medications Roger. I was addicted to benzos about 2-1/2 years back and fortunately my withdrawal was well managed in hospital and I've not ended up with any ill effects thankfully. I also had to titrate off Prozac when it stopped working and I did that with the help of my GP, again no ill effects. It seems like you have not had the support or information you needed.
Have you talked with your GP about all of this? Good place to start and they can likely refer you to whatever specialist would know best about these symptoms and how to help. (And if your GP is not particularly helpful maybe it's time to look for a new, better informed and helpful GP.)
I'm just spit balling here but I wonder if a pharmacist might have some answers for you? Here in Canada our pharmacists are doing much more than handing out prescriptions these days. It may be they have information about what's going on and can talk with you and your GP. I know mine was quite helpful when I had ovarian cancer and was having difficulty with steroids in my chemo cocktail (explained to me that some people become quite agitated like me and so I was confident pushing for that to be removed from my chemo which the team did), and with nausea (spoke to my cancer team and insurance and got approval to give me the "gold standard" of medication which really did the trick). It might be worth a conversation with a pharmacist.
I hope you're able to get some answers and better yet, some relief from the symptoms you're dealing with
Have you talked with your GP about all of this? Good place to start and they can likely refer you to whatever specialist would know best about these symptoms and how to help. (And if your GP is not particularly helpful maybe it's time to look for a new, better informed and helpful GP.)
I'm just spit balling here but I wonder if a pharmacist might have some answers for you? Here in Canada our pharmacists are doing much more than handing out prescriptions these days. It may be they have information about what's going on and can talk with you and your GP. I know mine was quite helpful when I had ovarian cancer and was having difficulty with steroids in my chemo cocktail (explained to me that some people become quite agitated like me and so I was confident pushing for that to be removed from my chemo which the team did), and with nausea (spoke to my cancer team and insurance and got approval to give me the "gold standard" of medication which really did the trick). It might be worth a conversation with a pharmacist.
I hope you're able to get some answers and better yet, some relief from the symptoms you're dealing with