Being a dad with CPTSD feels like starring in your own personal three-ring circus, except, of course, it’s not just a circus. It’s a high-stakes act with no safety net, and the crowd is loud and relentless. And when your daughter is soon to be 16? Well, now the lion’s escaped, chasing the lioness, while […]
Loving in Silence: The Quiet Storm of CPTSD
Living with CPTSD means emotions don’t always look the way people expect them to. On the surface, I might come off as calm, maybe a little distant. Like, I’m trying to remember if I left the stove on. But inside? It’s a full-blown Greek tragedy. The chorus is wailing, the lead actor is mid-monologue, someone […]
Finding Peace: A Journey Through CPTSD and Self-Discovery
Recovery means something different to everyone of us who have dealt with a lifelong diagnosis of living with cPTSD. We have faced pain and uphill struggles that none of us would wish on anybody. One thing I have come to realize is that non-traumatized people have less potential to achieve the deep inner peace that […]
The Exhaustion From healing Is Very Real
I recently wrote about what the impact of leaving survival mode means. How it signifies a shift towards healing and a more balanced and fulfilling life, allowing us to prioritize our mental well-being and work on our end goal of healing from trauma. What I didn’t go into detail about is how tired it makes […]
Learning To Love Myself For Who I Am
For many years, I believed deep down that I was unworthy of love, and that no one could ever truly accept me for who I was. I engaged in unhealthy behaviors to prove this belief to myself. I felt undeserving of love, particularly because of my history of childhood abuse. In my mind, there was […]
Why Self-Validation Matters After Childhood Trauma
Growing up with abuse and never being able to ask for help, the idea of speaking up felt completely foreign. I had nobody to turn to, and deep down, I didn’t think I’d be believed. For 40 years, I carried that secret. Looking back, desperation seemed to be the theme of my formative years. Desperate […]
