Starting my journal

[holidayay]

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.

[holidayay]

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.

[NarcKiddo]

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.

[HannahOne]

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."

[holidayay]

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.

[holidayay]

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.

[holidayay]

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.

[NarcKiddo]

Yay for the new jigsaw. I like that analogy very much. It's good to see that approach already helping you.

[holidayay]

One of the things I really, truly wonder about - is what it would be like to have a 'continuous' life. What I mean by that is, where life has felt generally OK, give or take a few fluctuations/peaks/troughs out of the baseline - and continued to build on each chapter. I'm not sure I can explain what I mean very well.
Maybe it would make more sense if I explain the other type of life, the one I have had. Where traumatic experiences pile on top of each other, and instead of building up neatly on top of each other to form a good sturdy house, instead they get throw haphazardly to form something of a ramshackle. The units making up the house - representing different areas of life such as relationship with the self, relationship with others, education, careers, one's emotional landscape, one's mental state....have not been put together thoughtfully. *, even the individual bricks making up each unit have not been meaningfully sourced to see if they are suitable.
I don't really have many continuous friendships, for example. A bitter regret of mine. My ideas of friendship were so complicated and confusing.
I had hardly any friends in early school years. We had just moved from the Middle East to the UK. I didn't understand the language. Then, when I did, I didn't understand...everything else. I remember feeling so utterly dazed and confused as a child. You know when they describe a deer caught in headlights, frozen in fear? It hurts to feel like that was my childhood. My experiences of 'other people' at home were that of cruelty, of unkindness, of mockery, of being shamed and degraded. Being at school...suddenly it felt like there was hundreds of potential sources of any number of these things to be dished out to me. I was scared, every day. Hiding and being invisible wasn't so easy. I would crawl under those outdoor tables in the school yard. The small space in the middle, wedged in between the criss-crossing table legs. It was so small, it hurt my body to crawl in there, as the legs pushed stubbornly against my skin. I don't know why I went in there so often. I guess something about an enclosed space perhaps offered some sense of safety and comfort.
It hurts to remember this. It hurts to realize how wrong I had gotten it, based on the viciousness I'd seen at home; the cruelty that had shaped my worldview to be warped and destructive at such a young age. I didn't know how to play. I feared retribution for even thinking I could allow myself to play.
My friendships in secondary school were somehow a bit better. I was part of a group of 4. 3 girls and a boy. I had by then developed humour a way to cope. Humour and studying. One of the few graces afforded to me by a family member back then...was my brother urging me to focus on education and pushing me to study. So, I laughed and studied my way through secondary school. Out of these two saving graces, I was...not much else. Out of this, came problematic behaviours. I didn't know how to trust, so I would test my friend's trust. I didn't know how to like or respect myself so I fawned for others and shamed myself. Other times I was frozen in anxiety. Then, when I saw troubled teens getting attention through behaving poorly, I copied them. I remember distinctly being envious that they were receiving attention. I wanted that attention - I didn't even care if it was bad - because it meant I was being recognised. Then other times, maladaptive daydreaming. Dreaming of being adopted by a teacher, or else developing completely inappropriate crushes on others.
My other 3 friends...they had issues of their own. One came from a strict household where it was understood she would be married off soon after finishing her schooling. Another one who struggled academically and was only in school because it would be illegal not to be; her parents did not care for female education and neither did she. And my male friend, the one I laughed with the most, we weren't allowed to be friends. My strict middle eastern mother would have punished me severely if she found out. As would his family. We had to hide our friendship. If we saw his cousin coming towards us, we would have to stand a distance apart and pretend not to know each other. One time my brother saw us walking in a supermarket together, innocently laughing and joking, and he told us both off and then went to tell my mother.
This was so confusing. We had the most sibling-like dynamic between us. And somehow I felt deep anxiety and fear and dread at our friendship becoming common knowledge.
None of that ended up mattering anyway, after another of my siblings died at the tail end of our schooling. Me and the male friend would go on to the same college for the next 2 years but the part in me that was capable of forming attachments had seemed to altogether wither and die. My brother's death changed my view of life from despair-but-with-some-glimmers to a darkness that I can't quite explain. Sometimes I'd try to hang out with that friend but we both knew it was never the same. I didn't know what to talk about anymore. I didn't know how to joke or laugh or find the silly in anything. My other 2 friends from school, they disappeared from my life. One of them did indeed marry not long after finishing her education, and the other just disappeared outright.
I don't know why I am typing all this.
I've had a pretty rough couple of days. Well, horrible to be honest. Horrible and lonely.
I worked a bit too much last week and this seems to always happen when I do that. I begin to feel tired, and weak, and then horrible, and lonely, and stuff from the past comes up....
The present feels too hard. I don't know how to look after myself when I feel weak; the table with the criss-crossing legs is no longer here to encase me. And even if it were, I have outgrown it. I no longer get safety from enclosures like that anymore; physical or mental. Hiding away, distracting myself, any of these ways in which that proverbial table manifested itself in my adult self....they long since stopped working. Since 2018. And yet, the excruciating experience of the reality that I needed shielding from hasn't.

Who knows if I'm even making sense anymore. A big mind dump today. I feel the urge to apologise for not having more clarity, or wisdom or humour, but I won't. I'll just hold on, for now.

[TheBigBlue]

This resonates deeply with me. That in-between place where old ways of finding safety no longer work, but nothing new has taken their place yet. The loss of enclosure, the absence of joy or silliness, and the way exhaustion opens the door to old pain all feel very familiar. There's such a deep loneliness in realizing you're exposed without shelter, still carrying hurt that hasn't eased, and not knowing yet how to care for yourself in this new terrain. I'm really glad you wrote this - it helped me feel less alone in that space. 💛