The Good and Bad Days of Living with Complex PTSD

The Good and Bad Days of Living with Complex PTSD.

My name is Elizabeth, and I am a survivor of CSA and trauma. I have come a long way in my healing journey, but I want to share with you that I still have bad days in the middle of the good ones. It is part of the healing process to feel a myriad of complex emotions. Even though it may not feel like you are making any progress, you are!

I've learned that healing after child abuse and trauma takes time, and we need to allow ourselves this time, no matter how long. Our healing time is like asking ourselves, "How long is a piece of string?" Well, who knows how long it is? It depends on us, the survivor. It takes the time it takes to heal. It cannot be rushed and swept under the carpet. A childhood filled with daily trauma is going to have an impact on our lives. I have concluded that my healing journey will never end like a race or a light switch. The brain simply doesn't work that way. Our healing journeys will simply slow down until they cease to exist, and we carry on living without our pasts interfering in our lives with triggers.

Today was not a great day for me…

Today was not a great day for me. During my lunch break, I had a trigger moment at work when my colleagues were talking about television programs from when they were little kids. Everyone in the room shared a story about a favorite show except me.

"What about you, Lizzy? What did you watch as a kid?" someone asked me and the whole room turned to me.

I stared at them and gave a little white lie answer about watching the same show as one of them. The truth is that I never watched TV. I have very few memories of a TV in the living room or anywhere else. I suddenly had an overwhelming sense of fear just above my shoulders - almost like a weight of pain descending on top of me. My bio-father did not have a TV, and his apartment was always in darkness. I was not allowed to turn on the lights, which has affected me for decades. I tuned out my colleagues, and my mind went back to that time. For the rest of my day, I was in a gloomy cloud of self-pity and shame.

I did not have a normal childhood with happy, warm, fuzzy memories like everybody else. It made me feel like a misfit and an outcast, even though I know it is my brain conjuring up words to make sense of my childhood. It's almost like my brain was trying to make up a scenario to explain, why my childhood was the way it was.

Triggers are just that: triggers. They come and wreak chaos on our nervous system.

Triggers are just that: triggers. They come, wreak chaos on our nervous system, and then leave once the damage is done. It's like having our very own emotional tornado that leaves us in a frail and vulnerable state. We need to rebuild and recover, just like we would after a real natural disaster. I recognize how I feel now, and I let those feelings wash over me. I imagine myself as a steady rock in the middle of a waterfall. My emotions are the water rushing over me, and I am the rock standing still and letting those emotions wash all around me. They overwhelm and cover me for a short period, but then the water recedes, and the sun rises again. The sun rising is beautiful to me, and that is when the good days return, and I am back to being okay again.

When I have had a trigger, I always make sure that I take care of myself afterwards. I have a cup of coffee if I'm at work and relish the taste on my tongue as I try not to think about anything at all. My brain has had an emotional workout, and at that moment, all I think about is the taste of the coffee. When I get home to my family, I make sure to connect with them to get my brain grounded in the here and now. I make a nice dinner and sit down with my loved ones as we enjoy being together. Moments like these are vital to me and restore my self-belief and confidence. It doesn't matter that I missed out on watching TV as a kid, and yet, I mourn that time because I missed so much. It's not about the TV. It's more about the fact that my family was not normal, and when I think back, it hurts. I grieve for the child that I was, but I now deal with that by looking into the future. I have my own kids to raise and love. I might spoil them and protect them more than I should, but my kids know how much I love them. I am a good mom, even though my childhood was horrific. I survived and thrived. I sometimes look at my kids across the dinner table, and I catch my breath at how lucky I am to be a mom. I look at their little faces and know I can make a change and an impact in the here and now.

Today might not have been a good day for me, but there is a future ahead with infinite sunrises.

My name is Lizzy and I'm a trauma survivor. I'm now a mom and a teacher because I left my life and started again. 

For more about me: www.elizabethwoodsauthor.com

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