Tag: childhood trauma

Book Review | Complex PTSD by Pete Walker

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Complex PTSD, written by Pete Walker, is a book that is aimed at providing a deeper understanding of trauma and its effects on the psyche. This book goes into detail on the topic of Complex Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, a subtype of PTSD that arises from prolonged exposure to traumatic experiences. In this book review, we will analyze how the author’s use of case studies helps readers understand the complexities of trauma and the strategies that can be used to overcome its lasting effects. Additionally, we will explore how the book emphasizes the potential for healing and provides tools for managing emotional flashbacks.

Part I: Understanding Complex PTSD

The first part of the book provides an overview of complex PTSD and its symptoms. The author discusses how trauma can affect a person’s mental health and emotional wellbeing, leading to anxiety, depression, and a range of physical symptoms. In this section, the author highlights the symptoms of complex PTSD, which are different from those of regular PTSD.

For example, emotional flashbacks are a hallmark symptom of complex PTSD, and they can be triggered by seemingly innocuous events. The author shares a case study of a client who experienced intense feelings of fear and anxiety whenever she saw a man with a beard. This was because her abuser had a beard, and the sight of a bearded man triggered an emotional flashback. By sharing this case study, the author helps readers understand the complexities of emotional flashbacks and how they can be triggered by seemingly minor events.

Part II: The Roots of Complex PTSD

In the second part of the book, the author delves into the roots of complex PTSD and how it develops. The author explains that complex PTSD often arises from prolonged exposure to trauma, particularly in childhood. The author highlights the various forms of childhood trauma that can lead to complex PTSD, such as physical and sexual abuse, neglect, and emotional abuse.

The author shares a case study of a woman who experienced emotional abuse as a child. The woman’s mother was constantly critical of her, telling her she was worthless and would never amount to anything. As a result, the woman developed a deep sense of shame and self-loathing that persisted into adulthood. By sharing this case study, the author helps readers understand how childhood trauma can have lasting effects on a person’s mental health and emotional wellbeing.

Part III: Healing from Complex PTSD

The third part of the book focuses on healing from complex PTSD. The author emphasizes the potential for healing and provides a range of strategies and techniques for overcoming the lasting effects of trauma. 

The author provides an in-depth discussion of emotional flashbacks and how they can be managed. The author emphasizes that emotional flashbacks are not memories of past events, but rather intense emotional states that are triggered by present-day situations that resemble past traumas. The author provides tools for managing emotional flashbacks, such as grounding techniques, self-compassion, and mindfulness.

The author shares a case study of a client who experienced intense feelings of shame and self-blame whenever she made a mistake. These feelings were triggered by past experiences of being punished for making mistakes. The client learned to recognize when she was experiencing an emotional flashback and used grounding techniques to bring herself back to the present moment. In sharing this case study, the author helps readers understand how emotional flashbacks can be managed and overcome.

One of the most important tools for managing emotional flashbacks is the “flashback management toolbox.” This toolbox includes a variety of techniques that can help trauma survivors recognize and manage their emotional flashbacks, including:

  • Grounding techniques: These techniques involve using the five senses to anchor oneself in the present moment. For example, a person might focus on the sensation of their feet on the ground, the sound of their breathing, or the feeling of a cool breeze on their skin.
  • Self-compassion: When experiencing emotional flashbacks, trauma survivors can be extremely hard on themselves, blaming themselves for their feelings or believing that they are weak. Self-compassion involves treating oneself with kindness and understanding, recognizing that emotional flashbacks are a normal and understandable response to trauma.
  • Mindfulness: Mindfulness techniques involve cultivating awareness of one’s thoughts, feelings, and physical sensations without judgment. By practicing mindfulness, trauma survivors can learn to observe their emotional flashbacks without getting lost in them.
  • Inner child work: Inner child work involves connecting with the wounded child within oneself and providing that child with the love, support, and nurturing that they may have missed out on in childhood. By connecting with the inner child, trauma survivors can begin to heal the wounds of the past and build a stronger sense of self.

I especially recommend reviewing Walker’s 13 Steps for Managing Flashbacks, which have personally been an invaluable resource when it comes to recognizing and managing my own triggers and flashbacks.

In conclusion, Complex PTSD by Pete Walker is a remarkable book that provides a deep understanding of the impact of trauma on individuals, particularly in the form of complex post-traumatic stress disorder. The author’s compassionate and insightful approach to complex PTSD offers practical tools and resources to help people overcome the effects of trauma and live a more fulfilling life.

One of the book’s essential messages is that healing from trauma is possible. By understanding the origins of complex PTSD and using the right tools and support, we can learn to manage their symptoms effectively and reclaim our lives. The author’s emphasis on self-care, self-compassion, and mindfulness in the healing process is particularly powerful, as it highlights the importance of treating oneself with kindness and compassion, which can be challenging for trauma survivors.

Overall, Complex PTSD is a must-read for anyone who has experienced trauma or works with trauma survivors. The book provides hope and practical strategies for individuals struggling with the effects of trauma, emphasizing that healing is possible and within reach. The author’s message of resilience and potential for personal healing is truly inspiring and can serve as a beacon of hope for anyone who has suffered the effects of trauma. 

Reading this book has been one of the most important factors in my own personal healing journey of recovery from Complex PTSD. I recommend it to anyone who faces similar challenges. It is my hope that it will help many others the way it has helped me.

This Train is Leaving the Station

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Journal Date: May 5, 2020

I woke up early this morning to take my little puppy Beso outside before the sun rose.

Coming back inside, I gave him a snack and lay down to rest more on the living room couch while he played with his toys.

Soon, I found myself in the middle of a terrible dream.

In this dream, I was being rejected, shamed and abandoned by everyone in my life. I felt wildly out of control, unable to control my body or my reactions to anything around me. I was sure that I had been drugged, I had a vague memory of taking a pill I had been offered earlier in the dream by my mother.

I tried to tell the others in my dream it wasn’t my fault, I couldn’t control my self, it was this drug I had taken that was making me act intoxicated, that the way they saw me wasn’t reflective of who I really was, but no one believed me, and left me alone with my shame anyway.

Soon I came to realize I was on a train, which continually traveled between two stations, an old station and a more modern one in a new town. Sometimes I would get off the train and explore the land surrounding each station, but inevitably I would find myself back on the train as it continued its ceaseless journey from one point to the other.

On one trip back to the old town station, I saw a hospital emergency room. I wanted to rush off the train and see if they could give me a drug test or something to prove the cause of my condition. But I could never stay off the train long enough, I always came back sooner than I would have wished to commence a new cycle of pain and confusion.

Once back on the train, I re-experienced each abandonment anew. Most times, it was one of my parents which were leaving me after delivering their cold, unequivocal judgements on how I was not worth the trouble to be around. But there were times when even my puppy Beso was taken away from me. It may not seem like much, but each time it happened, I felt my heart implode like a massive black hole in my chest, and I heard myself scream out loud.

This lasted until I was woken up on the couch by my mom. “Are you okay?” she asked. She had heard me scream again and again in my sleep, and was afraid something was wrong.

I finally got up and she brought me water and some aspirin to help with the headache I had woken up with.

“Look at Beso,” she said, pointing to my dog laying under the couch beneath me. “Even though you were making so much noise he never left you. He’s so loyal.”

I avoided thinking about the dream until later in the afternoon. I had fallen asleep again for a nap, and on waking up, the meaning of the earlier dream came to me all at once.

The drug I had been given was my trauma, my childhood experience and conditioning which told me I was and would never be good enough.

Being high (or in this case, low) on this drug had me acting in ways I felt I couldn’t control. I was reactive, reckless, hurting myself and others, watching this bitter pill create the wreckage of my life I knew, feared, and experienced over and over again.

There was still that part of me that wanted to get off at the old train station, to go back further into my past, to find some authority that would look at me and give me a diagnosis that would shift the blame onto anything outside of me. I wanted someone to say to me, “It’s the drugs talking. It’s this tough pill of trauma you’ve been hooked on for so long. We understand it’s not your fault.”

But no doctor could ever give me that script. Even if they did, few would believe me and even less would care.

I could feel all of the shame and fear and sense of “stuckness” rising up within me as I reflected on the dream and what it could mean for me.

Then I remembered, the train always kept moving. The train was always taking me forward, trying to open its doors for me onto new frontiers, but I had such a hard time feeling ready to make roots in this foreign territory, I was obsessed with proving something about who I was and who should be held responsible for all the consequences that came of that that I found myself again and again on that same train “home”.

Now I could see that when those doors opened again, I needed to plant my flag in that new space and declare the future my true home.

The past is a desolate place, a withered landscape, a war-torn country I could never trust as my own. In some ways I think that maybe I never had a home, I felt as if I’d been born at sea, a small ship at sail in dangerous seas. 

I know I can’t go back to where I was, but now I’m prepared to get off this train and build my own house, create my own safe harbor from a pattern I am putting together as I go along. I’m ready to go home, to the future, and leave that train of sadness behind for good.

Injured Instinct

EleanorLeave a comment

Journal Date: Saturday, November 7th, 2020

“I think you can see that a dilemma of profound consequences is set up if the people who are supposed to love and protect us are also the ones that hurt, humiliate and violate us. This sets up a double bind that undermines people’s basic sense of self and trust in their own instincts. Our sense of safety and stability in the world and our interpersonal relationships become undermined by childhood abuse because we carry these early thwarted—that is, deeply conflicted—survival pattern into adulthood.” —Peter Levine

I’ve hated myself ever since then. I’ve been disgusted by myself. And have believed that my mom must have been right. That I’m worthless, and a lost cause, and don’t deserve to be here. 

That I should hide, or even die, because to show my face in polite society is an insult to all those good people I’m trying to fool.

This is what I have believed, and eventually, have gotten oh-so-good at creating as my actual life experience.

Deep down, I was so invested in believing this about myself, that I forced it upon myself, even in circumstances where there were people who wanted to like me.

I’m thinking of all the times when there have been people who have liked me, respected me, admired me, and even wanted to try to love me.

I just couldn’t handle it. 

It was too much for me. I didn’t understand it. Couldn’t trust it.

It gave me the deepest, most terrifying sense of anxiety and dread.

I had to “fix” it immediately. I couldn’t keep up “the lies.” I was terrified of what would happen when they discovered the “truth” about me.

So I was compelled to show them.

[insert horrible betrayal here]

Look at me. “This is who I am.”

Do you love me now?

…

That’s right. 

I DIDN’T THINK SO.

And over time, I got so much better at showing people “who I was” up front.

It took a while, but soon enough there was not even a chance for them to try and love me; I did my best to make it obvious how much I hated myself (and how much they should too) right from the very beginning.

Amazingly enough, some people still tried!

It was always such a shock to me. It was what I said I wanted, but I could never tolerate it for long.

I was obsessed with my compulsion to “tell the truth” about what I was, and to prove how unworthy of love, respect, or even common human decency I was. 

What a crazy, stupid, unnecessarily painful life this has been.

None of this was necessary.

None of this was even really about me, at the end of the day.

Back then, I was just doing my best to be a good girl. So I just kept carrying all the crazy projections my family sent my way, no matter how painful or detached from reality they were.

God, it makes me sad to look back on my life and see the truth of what has been.

How easily it could have been another way.

This pain, this shame—it was never mine to carry.

I don’t want to keep holding onto it anymore.

I’m ready to be free, and just live as my own self.

I don’t need to do this anymore.

I’m ready to be free.