Living with CPTSD is the gift that keeps on giving. And by “gift,” I mean that weird mystery box you didn’t order; it showed up uninvited, and now you’re legally required to carry it with you everywhere you go. It’s like an invisible backpack filled with random triggers, unexpected flashbacks, and moments where you’re just chilling, but your nervous system is like, “CODE RED.”
The tricky part? The world doesn’t know you’re lugging that heavy pack around. You’re expected to function. Smile. Hold conversations. Show up without having a moment where you feel you are about to spiral in the bathroom. And sure, sometimes we pull it off. But most of the time, we’re walking disasters with socially acceptable smiles.
Here are some of my magic tricks that have helped me get through life with CPTSD.
1. The “I’m Fine” Smile
I think we all know this classic. The universal CPTSD mask. Where “Everything is fine, and I definitely didn’t just have the urge to run away and shut down so I don’t have to deal with life” smile.
This is the smile that hides a million silent breakdowns. The one you slap on when your brain is in meltdown mode, but society expects you to say, “I’m good, how are you?” You could be mid-resignation from your entire social life, and people would still say, “You seem so put-together!”
Meanwhile, you’ve been staring at the same wall for 10 minutes wondering if breathing is optional.
2. The “I’m Just Gonna Stay Home and Do Absolutely Nothing” Strategy
You know the drill. A social event pops up. Panic sets in. Suddenly, staying home in your sweatpants feels like the only viable option. It’s not flakiness. Or rudeness. Just survival.
Cancelling plans becomes a form of self-preservation. “I’m not feeling good” translates to “My brain is on fire, and I can’t emotionally handle discussing the weather over hors d’oeuvres.”
And that’s okay. You’ve earned the right to embrace the nothingness, stay home, and scroll Instagram memes for the next 72 hours.
3. The Unsolicited Advice Marathon
One of CPTSD’s finest perks? When you meet that one person who thinks they know how to “fix” you.
“Have you tried sleeping more?”
“You should get out and exercise!”
“Cut out gluten; my cousin did, and she’s so calm now.”
Yes, thank you, Susan. I’m sure kale is the key to healing the decades-long trauma narrative screaming inside my head. Because, you know, sometimes we all suffer passive-aggressive sass and repressed trauma rage.
Pro tip: Just nod. Smile. Picture yourself throwing them off a nearby rooftop. Then move on.
4. The “Totally Cool With It” Over-Explainer
Living with CPTSD makes every interaction feel like an audition for “How Human Is He!?.” That’s when the over-explaining kicks in.
“Yeah, I’m great! Just, you know, the usual… I woke up, stood in the shower for 2 hours, avoided a panic spiral, convinced myself picking up milk wasn’t a threat, and now I’m here pretending to be a person. Totally chill.”
If you’ve ever tried to make yourself sound “okay” by talking too much, congrats, you’re doing amazing.
5. The Trigger-Free Zone (a.k.a. Your Apartment)
There is nothing like your safe space. Your fortress of solitude. Where pants are optional and anxiety can take a number and wait its turn.
Sure, the door buzzer sends you into a full-body jolt, and you haven’t answered a text in three days, but who cares? The outside world is chaos. Inside, you’ve got playlists, snacks, and at least some sense of control.
And honestly? That’s enough.
Fake It ‘Til You Make It (Or At Least Until Bedtime)
Living with CPTSD means constantly navigating chaos, internally and externally, while pretending you’ve got it all together. Sometimes we nail it. Sometimes we don’t. But either way, we are surviving whatever it throws at us, and that counts for something.
It’s important to remember that none of us are alone in this weird, messy thing called life. Some of us simply have extra stuff to contend with. We simply have to keep going. Keep laughing, and keep being our brilliant, complicated selves.
After all, we are doing the best we can, and that’s all we can do.