darknightsandfairylights

[darknightsandfairylights]

[darknightsandfairylights]

Your parents might not like your dreams but they will like the house, car and gifts you buy them from the money you make by accomplishing those dreams. Your parents job is to protect you. Sometimes, even project the future they want for themselves on to you. Parents 'parenting style' involved projecting their well intentioned views on to their children. However, their views also align them with the life THEY have, not necessarily the life YOU could want for yourself. Most parents do not use discernment when raising their children, thus raising their children as an extension of themselves- and not the child as their own person. We can’t blame our parents forever or live for others while abandoning our true selves. The thoughts they have are based on the reality they experienced. Your parents didn’t grow up exposed to the opportunities and way of life that exists now. They don’t understand it. Finding your own way is part of becoming an adult and disappointing those we care about is a hurdle we need to cross in order to get there.

[darknightsandfairylights]

“Nature loves courage. You make the commitment and nature will respond to that commitment by removing impossible obstacles. Dream the impossible dream and the world will not grind you under, it will lift you up. This is the trick. This is what all these teachers and philosophers who really counted, who really touched the alchemical gold, this is what they understood. This is the shamanic dance in the waterfall. This is how magic is done. By hurling yourself into the abyss and discovering it’s a feather bed.”

—Terence McKenna

[darknightsandfairylights]

this is going to be difficult -> i am capable of doing difficult things -> i have done everything prior to this moment -> this difficulty will soon be proof of capability

[darknightsandfairylights]

I don't know why shouting into the void of the internet helps, but sometimes it's an invaluable tool on this journey. So today, I shout.

TRIGGER WARNING: Talk of unhealthy dieting, body dysmorphia and body image issues

I'm in a weird spot, mentally, with health and fitness. I grew up very out of place. I come from stocky people, but was adopted into a family of fast metabolism. I never quite fit in. Combined with other issues (poor socialization, small private school, general awkwardness), I never had many friends or social interaction in general, which I chalked up to not being pretty or popular enough. In high school, I joined Weight Watchers, starved myself, but didn't work out at all, and so I ended up much thinner but VERY unhealthy. And with basically no muscle mass. I stayed roughly in that (bad) weight range for about 3 years - until college. I had semi-helicopter parents, so I never really learned how to regulate my own eating, and I also went through a horribly abusive relationship that triggered depression and massive anxiety my last year of high school and the summer into freshman college. So, left to my own devices, I gained the freshman 15. Then 20. Then 30. Then second semester, I met someone with disposable income, and suddenly I was eating Domino's multiple times a week, and other takeout besides. 30 extra pounds grew into 50, then 80 by the end of college, then a new trauma / depression spiral the first 2 years out of college bumped the number up to 120 extra pounds. Almost as much as I weighed to start. And the whole time was horrible yo-yo dieting, juice fasts, several stints in Weight Watchers, a ton of fad diet books, and emotionally bullying myself, horribly.

So now we come to the latest "era" of my life. The era of childhood healing, true self care, and hard fucking truths. It took a lot of work, and I doubt I'll ever be completely "done", but I've done quite a lot to lessen the voices telling me fat = bad. I no longer consider fat to be a moral failing. It's not something to be celebrated either - it just is. It's morally neutral. It is an emotionless fact about me, much like the color of my hair. Brunette isn't bad, blonde isn't shameful, it's just... hair.

With that said, being morally neutral like hair, I believe it's objectively OK to want to make a change. If I want to dye my hair a slightly darker shade, no one will really care. If I want to go red, or purple, or oil slick hair, no one's gonna care. (I mean. With some bright colors / multicolor shenanigans, there are some angry people that might take personal offense, but these aren't people whose opinions I value.) Wanting to change my weight and physical health should be so morally neutral. The answer to both is "do what makes you feel good." Purple hair makes you happy? Dye it. Growing muscle makes you happy? Hit the gym.

Because of my history though, I freak out about eating anything I see as a "health food" (we aren't even talking dieting, because I never want to see a fad diet again. I just mean like... eating a side salad with dinner) because I don't trust myself. What if a salad turns into a slippery slope and suddenly I'm an unhealthy skinny weight again? What if I go off the deep end and spend way too much time in the gym and drive away everyone I love? What then?

I know these fears are unfounded. There's a balancing act, finding that sweet spot. If I stay with morally neutral, and keep food morally neutral, so cake and pie hold the same moral value as fruits and veggies, I may find (if I allow myself) that I actually like eating a mostly veggie / fruit / bean diet ("diet" as in "things you eat" in this sentence - not as in "strict eating plan"), and I may find that I love the gym, and my metabolism is great, and weight just falls off. Or I may find I still want to eat a lot of pasta and potatoes and desserts, but I can add on enough fruits and veggies, and go to the gym enough, that I slowly get to a healthier equilibrium. But I have to stop being so afraid of the journey to even let myself start.

I don't know whether this helps. You, or me. I'm still overwhelmed. And tired. I Aldo hate meal prep. If I had someone making me fresh acai bowls and salads and bean burgers, this would be easy. But alas.

[darknightsandfairylights]

Systems beat Routines, but those systems can change

I’ve been hearing more lately about the first concept - “systems” as an alternative to “routines” - and honestly, IMHO, it’s brilliant. For anyone who struggles with ADHD / neurodivergence, for folks with chronic health issues or depression / anxiety, for those who may run out of “spoons” too quickly, routines can be tough to stick with. If you write a routine, on a good day, those things may be relatively easy, but on a hard day, even a small part of the routine can feel like too much.

So what makes a system different from a routine? It might seem a bit pedantic, since a lot of people use these words to mean a wide array of things. So here’s how I (and the many people I’m borrowing this idea from) define these.

A routine is a set of things you do, fairly consistently, during a recurring period. Morning routines, lunchtime routines, etc. For the sake of example, we’ll focus on morning routines. Let’s say I wake up every day at 6am, grind fresh beans to brew a pot of coffee, make some cheesy scrambled eggs, get in the shower at 6:30 to wash my hair, get cleaned, and shave, brush my teeth and floss, dressed by 7, I leave 10 minutes to check email and 20 minutes to journal before getting in my car to drive to work. For some people, that level of structure is wonderful - it helps them to know exactly what to do, and when. But for some people, it’s impossible to maintain. Enter the system.

A system is a more vague set of things you’d like to accomplish. If we look at the routine above, a similar system might be that, when I wake up, I know I need caffeine and breakfast (for quick energy + lasting energy), I need to clean myself and my teeth, I need to check on my communications and do something that’s peaceful and feels fulfilling. On a good day, I can still do the full list above - when there are plenty of “spoons” to go around. But the system also allows, when I’ve woken up with a bad emotional / physical health day, that I can achieve the same with a cup of Dr. Pepper or some instant coffee, a freezer waffle, a washcloth sink bath, brushing my teeth for 20 seconds to get the worst of the plaque, checking only the “urgent” email, and watching a favorite comfort YouTube video. You still hit all the important notes, you still make sure to start your day well prepared, but without the extra effort that would’ve been required for the full “routine.”

But also, once you’ve started thinking in systems, give yourself the freedom to let them change. Using the “breakfast” system as an example - you might get to a point where you’ve had enough good days that you’ve perfected an easy egg recipe, and that now feels like it’s easy enough for the “low energy” days. On the other hand, let’s say your chronic illness is extra difficult one month, or you were struggling with anxiety and now are dealing with both anxiety and depression, and the “easy” freezer waffles are now too much even for the good days. You can always find an easier microwave meal, or a granola bar, or a meal replacement drink, that fits with your new (permanent OR temporary) energy levels and needs.

The most important thing you can do for yourself and for those around you is to honor the way you’re feeling, and take care of yourself. That doesn’t mean forcing yourself to do everything, all the time; it means knowing what’s most important, finding ways to “check the box” and give yourself the time and patience you need to take care of whatever life is throwing your way.

[darknightsandfairylights]

Diet Culture Overwhelm, Part 1

TW: Discussions of eating habits / disordered eating / traumatic past

This one’s going to be a bit different from previous posts, since it’s a discussion of practical concerns / life and wellness issues, in addition to the normal history of / coping with past traumas. I’m also splitting it into multiple parts because, if I’m being honest, this one is mostly for me to process my own history and feelings, and there’s a lot to process. It’s easier to get through it all this way.

For anyone reading this and dealing with the same thing, these are just thoughts and things that I think might help - I don’t have any actual experience or education in dietary ‘ exercise topics, besides hundreds of hours spent Googling and obsessing over them in my personal life.

Part 1, touching on my own personal diet-culture history:

POP CULTURE: I was an early-90s baby, and so I grew up surrounded by people overanalyzing every single pound gained or lost by Britney Spears, Christina Aguilera, the full cast of Friends, and (eventually, as it trickled down from “adult culture” into “teen culture” as such things always do) Hilary Duff, Lindsey Lohan, Miley Cyrus, the list is endless.

PERSONAL HISTORY: I also have a mother who struggled (struggles to this day) with her own weight, so even though for years she never commented on my weight / told me I needed to be skinny, she would pick her own self image apart regularly. I’m adopted, and have a much different build than she does; she’s built like a pencil, I’m built like a medieval peasant. So hearing “I’ve gained weight, look how skinny I was in this picture, I just need to lose 5 pounds” as a very young child, I couldn’t help but look in the mirror and think “If these celebrities are fat - if my own mother needs to lose 5 pounds even though she’s so tiny - what does that say about me?” She didn’t make mean comments about my weight, although to this day I remember her and my aunt making a big deal over my leg rolls and arm rolls and telling me I “belonged in the Sistine Chapel” because to them it was adorable, it was baby weight, I was only maybe 4 or 5 years old - but even by then, I took it hard and thought it was just more evidence that I was just the “fat kid.”

ELEMENTARY / MIDDLE SCHOOL: I was lucky enough not to have any mean bullies making fun of me for my weight, but I sometimes wonder if that would’ve been easier - at least then I could’ve classified things as “things mean people say” and not “things I hear often, just for existing”. Kids wouldn’t directly poke fun at me; they wouldn’t even do that indirect “mean kid” thing of talking nearby so you know it’s about you but it’s harder to prove. They just ignored me for the most part (I was never a popular kid, and went to a very small school). I was the fly on the wall and they’d forget I was around. But they would poke fun at each other for weight. I’d hear them poking fun at other people’s weight, when they didn’t know I was around. And still, my brain kept looking at the targets of these mean comments and thinking, “If they need to lose weight, I must be in horrible shape.” I’d see the comments people would make about celebrities, my mother would continue to judge herself for her appearance and her eating habits, and my confidence shrank even more. There were a lot of other things going on in my life, as well - things that don’t matter to this post, except to say that I learned that eating brought me joy and a sense of control I didn’t get elsewhere.

HIGH SCHOOL: At the age of 14, just before starting my freshman year of high school, I decided I’d had enough. I didn’t want to be the “fat lame kid” any more. So I convinced my mother to sign us both up for Weight Watchers (and somehow talked my pediatrician into signing a waiver, because that was required for children to do the plan). We started in the fall, around the same time that school started; I’d lost maybe 5 pounds by the time I had my first homecoming dance as a freshman, and for years I cringed looking back at those pictures because I still thought I looked so big. (I also had a nightmare of a curly-hair mishap and some garish 90s-era blue eyeshadow that wasn’t my shade, so it was an all around bad aesthetic for the day.) But by the time prom rolled around (it was a small school, so the whole high school went to both), I’d lost a ton of weight. I felt confident, I felt cute, I convinced myself it would be like one of those movie scenes where the nerdy girl walks down the grand staircase and suddenly she’s everyone’s new favorite.

That didn’t happen.

At the end of that year, my friend group fell apart - one changed schools, one changed states, one just drifted away - and I found myself with one very clingy friend, and even less confidence than I’d had before. I started micromanaging meals like it was my job. I didn’t want any carbs at breakfast - just an egg. I couldn’t bear to eat hard boiled, so I had to suffer a little bit of fat, but only as little as possible. I’d often convince myself that a can of green beans (eaten directly from the can, cold, with a fork) was plenty for lunch - sometimes I’d split it into 2 smaller lunches to tide me over - and would do my best to avoid carbs and most fats at dinner too. I lost even more weight. I was tired, I didn’t do much, and I berated myself because I still felt fat, out of shape, I could still pinch the fat on my arms and gain purchase, so clearly it wasn’t enough. Looking back at those photos now, though, I looked sickly.

I kept this eating style up for years - through the rest of my high school career, and the summer between senior year and college. I ended up in some very one-sided / toxic / unhealthy relationships during that time - none of which were inherently bad people, but all of which had a profoundly bad effect on me, my confidence, self-esteem, and so many other things. Speaking only to the body image / eating habit side of their effects, though - one was very skinny, with the fastest metabolism I’ve seen, the sort of person who could eat 3 pizzas a day and never gain a pound. Another was in great shape, very active, and had a decent metabolism as well, so while they weren’t pencil thin, they were muscular and built and enviable. I was skinny, but I still saw myself as the fat friend, and I still had to deny myself so much to feel like I belonged, like I was pretty enough to be worthy of love. And then college happened.

One by one, my relationships fell apart. My grades suffered, and I realized I wasn’t prepared for being out in... maybe not the real world, but the closest I’d been so far. Everything gave me horrible anxiety. Class work, managing schedules, eating, laundry, maintaining new friendships - everything. I went back to eating for comfort. By the end of my freshman year, I was back up to the weight I started high school at (about 20-25 pounds gained back). By this time, I was in a new relationship with my now-husband, who was a lot more financially secure than me - meaning, on top of everything else, I could now bat my eyes and convince him that we’d both had a hard day and deserved a pizza, and he was always on board. Both of us gained weight, and kept gaining through the end of college. Then I’d go home for breaks, or summers, and my mother would see the weight I’d gained, and would suggest some new (or a re-hashed) diet for the break so that she could help me fix the weight I’d gained. I know she saw how I struggled with being overweight again, and I know she did it for the right reasons - but I ended up feeling like the only way I could successfully make the scale number go down, and the only way I’d ever be able to “stay skinny”, was at home with her help. I didn’t have the tools to do it myself. The diets she pushed, I couldn’t keep up once I went back to college. And thus began the yo-yo dieting. Denying myself treats at Christmas over the break to try and lose the weight, and gaining it right back when school started. Starving myself over the summer, doing juice fasts or 1200 calorie diets, trying to “fix what was broken” only to gain back what I’d lost, and more, over break.

AFTER COLLEGE: My boyfriend moved back to the other side of the US. Long distance was awful. Time zones were awful. I got a job right out of college and moved into a crappy little apartment by myself, about 2.5 hours away from my parents, 6h from my best friend, and an hour to the closest other friends I had. My anxiety got worse, my eating habits got worse, and I gained even more. Then, my work-best-friend (though she and I were much closer than that makes it sound) passed away, and I was utterly destroyed. My weight suffered, my mind suffered, and if I’m being honest, my work suffered. One thing led to another, and I lost that job. Luckily by this time, my boyfriend had moved back to my side of the US, but suddenly instead of handling his own job search, he was taking care of me while I filed for unemployment, applied for new jobs, suffered with severe depression, and then had to move across state lines in a panic once I found a job that wanted me to start ASAP.

By the time I moved to the new apartment, I was 100 pounds OVER my initial starting weight from a decade ago, my activity levels were basically at zero, I had very few coping skills, and I was a mess. I’ve since improved my mental health by leaps and bounds, and these days the panic attacks are rare, but so far, the weight has stayed right where it’s been, the heaviest I’ve been, and on bad days like today, it hits really hard.

I don’t know yet where we’re going with part 2, but we’ll get there soon.

[darknightsandfairylights]

people put under severe stress and expectations, never given any faith, encouragement or support, constantly being told their value is determined by their work and if not perfect they're worthless: Why can't I focus? Why is this simple thing so hard for me? Why do I procrastinate? Am I just lazy? Why can't I just do this? This is all my fault!

[darknightsandfairylights]

Abusive adults always expect children to be 3 times more polite, respectful, patient, empathic and understanding than other adults, or even themselves. They will go and joyfully punish children for tiny details like „not showing enough respect“ or „annoying someone for a few moments too long“ or „not being invisible and quiet enough in a mind-numbing situation“. At the same time, they let themselves act rude, selfish, disrespectful, impatient, forceful, violent and inconsiderate as possible; children will be punished for even mimicking their behaviour.

This is biologically backwards because children have very little impulse control, because they shouldn’t need it. Children operate on 5 needs and 4 impulses and thats it, they have to go figure themselves, and the world out, they’re supposed to be exploring all of their options, trying to see what makes their needs met and what impulses are good to follow. One of their most important traits is that they’re supposed to be focused on themselves and not self-conscious about how they’re affecting everything and everyone else. They need this to develop, they need to be able to fight and kick and scream and defend themselves against anyone, they need to know they can, to build their defenses and boundaries and sense of self and their own value in the world.

When you punish children for developing their basic human traits you’re trauma conditioning them to stop developing, to stop having needs and impulses and stop trying to figure anything out because it’s not safe, because they’re being watched by a dangerous sicko ready to hurt them at any sign of displeasure. You force them to forego their own growing up and focus only on you and on avoiding being hurt worse and worse by sacrificing parts of their own personality and well being. It’s not only selfish and despicable, it’s taking away from children’s lives only for sick satisfaction of being feared and getting a sense of power over a small, vulnerable human you don’t allow to grow up safely.

And why on earth should it matter anyway if children are rude? Tell me what world is resting on the shoulders of a 4 year old being polite. Maybe you should fight to protect the climate instead; maybe you should be working to end capitalism; maybe, you should be building a world where children will be able to grow up without the danger being enslaved, trafficked, sold and forced into labor; maybe you should look elsewhere than behaviour of children when you think something is wrong with the world. How children cope is only a symptom of what we’ve done to them.

[darknightsandfairylights]

Closing myself in with (fake) barriers

One of the most important things you can do for your anxiety, depression, trauma recovery, bad flashback days, or even just standard-issue ongoing negative emotions (sadness, anger) is to do things you love, that help you recharge and unwind. And one of the most important things for your good days is the exact same - do the things you love, whenever possible.

I suck at doing anything I love.

I’ve realized, tonight, that the main reason I have so much trouble doing the things I love is because I put barriers in between me and them. I don’t understand why I do it, I just do. I’m gonna work on figuring out why, to try and get around them. But I make rules for everything I do, and those rules make it impossible to do what I love. And that makes it hard to recharge from the rough days, and really fully enjoy a lot of the good days.

A few examples:

1. I enjoy crafting, but I feel like I can’t do it unless the dining room table (which I use for eating, crafting, and now working from home) is completely cleared of stuff. Let’s be honest, though, this is real life. It’s never 100% clear, and I would also be perfectly fine crafting on about 1 square foot of space.

2. I enjoy cooking, but I can’t stand cooking unless the kitchen counters are completely emptied (I mean, the usual stuff - knife block, utensil jar, etc. are fine, but everything else cleared off) which it almost never is.

3. I’m terrified of burning myself on pots and pans so I won’t clean dishes until I’m sure everything is cooled - which usually means it’s dried on and harder to get off. And sometimes by the time things are cooled, I’m already in bed (if dinner is late) or preoccupied by other things, and so I won’t get around to it. Which then means the counters aren’t clean for me to cook the next day.

Unfortunately, this isn’t one of those “Here’s a thing I struggle with, and here’s some advice on how to deal with it.” I honestly don’t know how to deal with it. I realize it basically boils down to “You just gotta do it, regardless of the stupid rules your brain makes” but that’s sometimes extremely difficult. I don’t know, guys. If y’all have any advice, I’d welcome it.

#cptsd #C-PTSD

[darknightsandfairylights]

Dedication, not Motivation

One of the hardest things I’ve had to deal with the past few weeks has been coming to terms with the fact that, with my history and trauma, there are some major things I never learned.

I don’t mean things like “other kids got to take singing lessons and now I’d have to put in work if I want to learn to sing!”

I mean, the basics. Like how some people just... get things done. Sure they might procrastinate or half-ass it, but... they still decide to do something, and then somehow... they get it done.

For me, growing up, I never really was able to direct anything myself. Everything I did, I did because of external pressure. I cleaned my room because my parents demanded it. I did schoolwork and got good grades because my parents demanded it. I practiced playing the piano because my parents demanded it.Not that they were especially harsh about demanding things, just that... because they demanded everything, because they decided what I should be doing and when, I never really had the chance to learn the basic premise of “decide to do a thing, follow through and do the thing.”

The few things I did because I wanted to, like scrapbooking or reading, only existed to fill the empty spaces in between things my parents wanted, and unless it was late at night and I was staying up under the covers past bedtime, I’d almost immediately be interrupted by something else I had to do for them.

There are very few things I can get myself to do now, because I don’t know how to motivate myself. I mean, I sleep and eat because I need to, to survive. Even then, I resist going to bed like an overtired toddler because late nights are precious times when I won’t be interrupted. (Even though parents aren’t around to interrupt anymore, in person, phone calls from them are still guaranteed, and old habits die hard.) And I’m awful at eating things in the fridge or cooking - whenever possible, I wait until someone else is around to either solve the issue for me (cook, order food, etc.) or encourage / “force” me (gently) to cook something (i.e. ”We can’t order food out again, come on, you’ve got to cook tonight.”)

I’m horrible at motivation. I’ve been struggling for years to get things done. And it’s not laziness. I make simple to-do lists, I make complicated to-do lists, I try every kind of extrinsic motivation I can think of, both negative (threatening myself / convincing other friends to help “threaten” me - i.e. “we can’t go to the movies if you don’t get this done”) and positive (bribery, rewards, etc.) and sometimes it’ll work for an item or two, but usually I just end up getting all anxious and overwhelmed because I feel like something’s wrong or broken with me. I keep thinking there’s some “motivation” part of my brain that’s missing that I need to develop, or find, or fix, and I’ve just been failing me for years. Even when I do manage to force myself to do even a little, I end up being exhausted because I keep trying to find / create motivation while doing whatever’s on my to-do list, usually while also dealing with traumatic flashbacks because my brain doesn’t like doing anything on “easy mode.”

Until I read something the other day.

Apparently motivation isn’t the way to get things done. I mean, it can work, if you have enough of it, but it’s rare that people have enough of it to do everything they need to. So starting today, I’m not gonna rely on motivation. I’m not waiting for some magical feeling of “wanting to do things” because, let’s be honest, it’s not gonna come. At least not for a bit. I need to learn to just... have a list and do things because I have to, not because someone (or myself) is bribing or threatening me. I’m going to do them just because I’ve decided I’m going to.

So here’s my list for the day.

1. Gather all of the trash, to be put out next trash day.

2. Wash all of the dirty dishes.

3. Put all of the clean dishes away.

And if I get all 3 of those done, I’ll be in much better place tonight than I am right now. Nothing big, nothing crazy, just 3 simple things I’m going to do, just because I’ve decided. And then I’m going to work on keeping that energy going - 3 things each day, doing them just because I’ve decided.

Let’s see how this goes...

#cptsd #C-PTSD #trauma recovery #motivation

[darknightsandfairylights]

Self care for three people in one...?

I know a lot of people suffer with taking care of themselves. In a world where anything you do purely for your own benefit is labeled “selfish”, where society and parents teach us that if we didn’t have it the worst, then we didn’t have it bad, and there’s always someone else we can help before ourselves - it’s hard to sit and think “What do I need?” and then truly fulfill that.

I started learning how, a few years ago - when I first heard the words “self care.” But society seems to have a very narrow view of what counts as “self care.” Pull up any article on Google and you’ll get the same bits of advice. “Take a hot scented bath.” “Turn off the phone.” “Take a walk.” “Light a candle.” “Snuggle a puppy.” All of these are still valid, and all of them have worked for me at one point or another. But for a lot of people with CPTSD, we need to add another, deeper level to self care. We need to cater to “multiple people.”

“But it’s SELF care”, you might say. Well, these “multiple people” aren’t actually separate; they’re all a part of you. So who are they?

1. The inner child. (S)he still exists as part of your personality for one very powerful reason: that the trauma causing CPTSD occurred (in most cases) during childhood. There is that part of you hanging on to your childhood because you never got to experience a normal childhood, and still want to; and there is a part of you stuck in childhood out of the fears that it brought, the yelling or violence or quiet, passive abandonment that left you alone with no one to comfort you.

2. The inner adult. (S)he is trying their best to deal with adult life as it comes, working a job or going to school, maintaining relationships, existing as a functional person. And this doesn’t apply only to CPTSD survivors over 18 or 21 years old - a lot of times CPTSD makes you grow up too fast. I think I had at least the beginnings of an “inner adult” by the ripe old age of... 6 years old? Maybe? And some people start even younger.

3. The inner pubescent teen. Not all of the hormonal / moody / sexual aspects, but rather the phase you’re expected to go through, that transitions you from a child into an adult. Some “adult” things you learned too early, got you labeled “the mature one” and denied you connecting with your peers learning these things for the first time. Other things you may have been denied learning at all (like controlling parents insisting on checking homework / inserting themselves into studying, so you didn’t learn the time management / prioritization skills that your peers were starting to learn).

And again, all of these can exist no matter your age. To different degrees, certainly, but still there. By the age of 11 or 12 I already had the inner child, regretful and fearful; I was being given too much “responsibility” by my parents, turning me into the effective “adult” who had to control how I reacted or how I treated them, while they could do whatever they want and throw tantrums with no repercussions; and I was already starting to disconnect from my peers because they were starting their normal teenage years, and I was at the same time too childish and too mature to join in.

With this in mind, especially while we’re all facing a global pandemic, a new temporary not-quite-normal, and many of us are either stuck with traumatic people or separated from our anchors - please keep these in mind when looking for self-care. Some nights your inner child might need a bit more care. Whatever brings him or her joy - a video game, coloring, your favorite childhood movie - indulge that child. Make him/her feel loved and safe.

Some nights your adult might need some care. Take the time to do whatever brings peace to the inner adult - be it cooking a hot meal, cleaning the bathroom, or lighting a candle and reading a book.

And some days your inner teen might be at the forefront. Be safe, of course, but let it do something stupid, or silly. Let it get all of those teenage rebellions, or weird fads you never got to try, satisfied. Find your blackest clothes and do a goth makeup/nail look. Start a Tiktok and record yourself doing stupid videos. If you’re older, do something you would’ve done during your teenage years. Listen to guilty pleasure music from your 90s teen years. Tease your hair into a fun 80s hairstyle. Wear bell bottoms. Spend the entire night listening to all the old records your parents used to bitch about. Whatever brings you comfort, even if it’s not traditional “self care” - it’s worth it.

Stay safe, take care of yourself, and tell yourself you love them.

#C-PTSD #cptsd #fawn response

[darknightsandfairylights]

An open letter to Bitchzilla, courtesy of NF lyrics:

BZ: You had me scared for a second. I thought we were digging my grave. *thunk* Me: We did. What, you don’t like being afraid? Here’s a dose of your own medicine! What, you don’t like how it tastes? My therapist told me, “don’t bury my issues” but I’mma be honest, man, I’m feeling GREAT.

#cptsd #C-PTSD #fawn response

[darknightsandfairylights]

“Know Thine Enemy”

Sounds a little dramatic, doesn’t it? I realize some people who go through trauma and CPTSD really do have a name and a face of someone horrible, hateful, wretched, that they can focus their anger on. I know not everyone walked the same path I did, to get to where I am today. But here’s where I am.

My parents accidentally traumatized me. We’ve dug into stories before, and I won’t elaborate too much here, because that’s not the point of this post - but they never tried to be angry, controlling people, they just expected things to be just-so, had their own (still unresolved) traumas to deal with, and expected raising a child to be an easy process (and were easily frustrated when it wasn’t). They love me, truly, they just screwed up. A lot.

My enemy isn’t really my parents, then. It’s hard to stay mad at them, and not pity them. For years I’ve treated myself as the enemy, but that’s unhelpful. Occasionally my brain tries to make the people that care about me into the enemy and push them away (luckily they’re fantastic little octopuses and once they grab onto something they like they DO NOT LET GO so I was well and truly, thankfully, stuck with them).

So this week, I’ve turned my anger inwards. Not towards myself, but towards the tiny little goblin that sits at the back of my brain convincing me that everything I do is wrong, that everyone hates me, I’m not good enough, etc. I’ve heard it referred to as the “trauma voice”, the echo of the people who hurt you in the past. For me, as a fawn-response CPTSD survivor, it’s a combination of things my parents have actually said, and things I’ve expected them to say (and then adjusted for, before they even had a chance to comment).

This week, I dubbed the goblin “Bitchzilla.” Being mad at my parents doesn’t work, and being mad at myself doesn’t help. But let me tell you, when I start having flashbacks, I get REAL MAD at Bitchzilla. “Um, excuse me, who told you that you were allowed to judge the way I look?” or “Go back to bed Bitchzilla, I’m doing art and I have no time for your nonsense.” When a new (or still-unresolved) trauma comes up, I still have to take the time to talk through it, work through it, figure out where it came from (if possible) and how to get past it - but once it’s figured out, the goblin still likes trying its best to use the same negative words and phrases and moods to control me - so once I’ve got a handle on a specific trauma and my brain tries to bring it back, I just tell Bitchzilla to shut up, and it helps.

The biggest problem I had before this week was that every thought is coming from my brain. Stupid sentence, I know, but hear me out. Every thought you have comes from your own brain. The good ones that you actually believe, and the bad ones that come from trauma. It’s kind of hard to separate them out sometimes - “Ignore your brain, but only when it’s being mean” doesn’t help. At least, not for me. Because it’s never black and white, it’s always a shade of grey. My brain is thinking about a person, or a topic, and it hears all the things I think AND all the things that are coming from trauma. Treating the “trauma voice” as a goblin in the brain, Bitchzilla, a parasite, makes it a lot easier (at least for me) to throw all of the bullshit back at that parasite, and start trusting my own brain and my own thoughts again.

Maybe it’ll help you, too.

#cptsd #C-PTSD #fawn response

[darknightsandfairylights]

Quick question, does anyone find themselves avoiding the things that help them deal with trauma / CPTSD because the help hurts too much? I’ve heard it described like CPTSD is a childhood broken arm that healed itself, but it was never set properly so it’s the wrong angle, it’s scarred, yes it’s a functioning arm but it’s never been quite right again. And to heal it you have to re-break it. In the midst of a panic attack, in experiencing the flashbacks and trauma, at least the wound is familiar. Facing it, really trying to handle it and overcome it, feels like raw exposed nerves that I just want to nurse back to numb indifference because they’d be raw and in pain too long trying to get back to “normal” (the world’s view of normal, instead of the trauma survivor’s).

#cptsd #c-ptsd #fawn response

[darknightsandfairylights]

Traumatic memory gets created differently than normal memory.

Please reblog so as many people as possible can see this. People who were not abused don't understand this about traumatic memory and that is often a basis for them not believing you.

There's all sorts of complicated science behind how this works, but I'm not going to get into it right now because I really want to hammer home this very specific point and not get distracted by anything else.

Traumatic memory is different than normal memory.

Traumatic memory is different than normal memory.

Traumatic memory is recorded more similarly to a dream then waking life.

Do not let anyone hold your traumatic memory up to normal memory standards.

Do not let anyone convince you that your traumatic memories are invalid because they are recorded differently than normal memory.

Your traumatic memories are fragmented, out of sequence, and dreamlike. They contain both very vivid parts and totally missing parts. This is all valid. This is how traumatic memory is recorded in the brain.

Having traumatic memories does not mean there's anything wrong with your memory. It's the way the mind and nervous system are programmed to function when in perceived crisis. So, if the majority of your childhood memories are traumatic memories, it's not because something is wrong with your memory, it's because something was very wrong with your childhood.

[darknightsandfairylights]

THIS.